Thursday 17th November 2016

We are some three weeks into the offshore phase of the project, and thanks to a number of factors, things are going slowly. Which is why late on Wednesday I decided that I would leave for home a day early. I tell the hotel, and then think about three days in a row being at home. Lovely.

So after a shower, I pack and and going down to check out at seven, and after talking about football with the night porter for a few minutes, then up to the breakfast room to find the hotel had sprung a leak. A few leans in fact, as water poured onto the serving tables. Staff ran around trying to make things work enough so us early enable us to get to work. As I left the hotel manager had arrived, and stood at the entrance to the room, hands on hips staring at the water pouting through the ceiling.

I take the car out of the garage and manage to get it down the ramp without having to reverse in fear of of hitting the walls.

And then out onto the empty streets, out past the other hotel I used to stay at, over the two intersections which have no give way signs, as you have to give way to the traffic from the right. This is OK until you get near to the office where there is a 5-way junction. I mean, maybe the Belgians have been born to understand this, but it seems madness to me, and mostly a case of who dares goes first or something like that.

And so another day at the office begins, but unlike normal days I have to squeeze the day into 5 hours. As you do. Or I do when I have to travel back.

And at half twelve I can leave, throw my stuff in the car and set the controls for due south.

Heavy rain had been forecast, but although there was low cloud, and felt like November. Which is is, really. And with the holiday season over, traffic was light indeed, and driving a pleasure, as well as being work too.

Through Belgium, over the border through Dunkirk and to Calais. All in about an hour.

I check in, go for lunch in the lounge, by which time we can board and are the first cars on the train, driving the fll length of it to sit next to the door which will open to let us out. I have a copy of the Financial Times to read, just the headlines and comment pieces, written by people using facts. Just like newspapers used to do.

Anyway, the doors close and after the safety announcement we pull away, and in half an hour we arrive back in Blighty with the familiar sights of Castle Hill out of the window on my right.

A quick blast up the A 20 to Aycliffe and along Townwall Street where there roadworks seem nearly to be done, but again taking so long to do. Up Jubilee Way at warp factor 5, overtaking a Porsche on the left, right at the Duke of Yorks and to home. The car splashes through deep puddles showing that there had been some recent heavy rain, but I had seen none of it, and now at the end of the day, the light was wonderful, all golden on what was left of the trees still with leaves.

Back home and the boys had finished for the day, but they had done some good work, and maybe this time next week it will be finished. Or not.

The cats were pleased to see me, as they thought it dinner time, so I gave in and fed them.

At half five I took the car back to the docks to hand back, and when I came out Jools was waiting, perfect timing. At least we didn't have to go out any more that night.

Darkness had already fallen, so once home I made dinner; pasta cabarnara with extra bacon, freshly fried.

And that was the day; we were both tired, watch The Sky at Night trying to stay awake as we learned about Mars, then listened to Autobahn again before deciding that the day was run and we should go to be. So we did.