I say this as my trip to head office this and next week will be filled with meetings. In truth all have a purpose and are important in their way, but or core functions are carrying on regardless. So, we catch up when we can.
Some 15 months ago our department consisted of my boss and me. And then we got someone else. He then took charge. We then got two then three QC inspectors. Then another one. Now there are over ten of us. And still we’re snowed under. At this rate we’ll have to book Wembley stadium for our department meetings in a year!
So, anyway, the day passed broken up with a heavily subsidised meal at lunch. More work chat during lunch and then more meetings in the afternoon. Phew.
During the day, I got a message from my old RAF mate, Shaggy, that he would pick me up at seven from the hotel. All I had to do was get back to the hotel in two hours. It was something of a surprise then to find all of Denmark, apparently, in a traffic jam queued up on the road outside our headquarters. And I had to get through it. Now, Denmark is not the most densely populated country, and so the thought of traffic jams there seems odd. But talking to the folks in the office it seems the two planners give little thought to infrastructure when allowing new businesses to set up, and as they like them to be in the same area; result is traffic jams.
So I inched back to the hotel, in a heavy rainstorm.
At seven Shaggy turned up, and we headed into downtown Aarhus. It’s a nice town, but getting around can be hard. And worse in the dark and rain. But he had a sat nav, and we found the street where the Thai place was. And right outside was a parking place, so we were set, with enough time for a quick beer before hand. Now, as nice as this quite clearly was, the thought of me driving down into the centre of town for a meal or a beer when I’m on my own in the hotel is just silly. Although the food in the hotel is just about passable, I really cannot be arsed to head out in the car to find somewhere else, as the centre is some 4Km away, I was told by my boss that the area isn’t safe at night; hence the barbed wire fence and sliding steel gates around the hotel car park.
Anyway, we have a nice beer then head to the Thai place for a splendid meal: I have something like crispy duck, which was wonderful, quite the best I have ever had, and all for a pittance (for Denmark). Well worth heading out for one night, anyway. I have orange juice instead of beer, and so further evidence that I am treating gout seriously. My enjoyment of the meal and evening was not compromised….
Thursday morning I wake up, shower, pack, get dressed, check out and head for breakfast. And I bump into Mr Wonderful himself, Mr J. Well, as Jools says, some people suck the life out of a room, and some people just light it up. So it’s the latter with Mr J. We eat together, swap news, and I tease him I have been offered another job just to wind him up. Come and work on…. And he goes on to list three UK based projects he is attached to. But I say my future is in Holland with my 43 WTG baby….
So, I drive into work in the dark and in a torrential downpour. It’s not nice as I struggle to see the correct route through the hosuing estates so to dodge the major jams on the main road north. I do find it, and so am at work by half seven.
More meetings.
Another heavily subsidised lunch.
Time to head to the airport at half one.
Back into the driving rain and onto the Danish road system. I had given myself plenty of time to get to the airport, so I could drive safely, and almost enjoy the drive to Billund.
After dropping the car off, I check in, go through security, and take up a place at the gastrobar, where I order a large Christmas beer. Perfect.
Looking outside the rain poured down still, and the wind was raging too. I doubted whether our little plane might take off, but according to the departure board there were no delays.
So, the flight was called and we went to the gate. It all seems so very normal to me now. Commuting to Denmark most weeks. But I still am thrilled to be climbing on a plane and heading home to see Jools and them cats. I love looking out of the window seeing western Europe pass below us. Although yesterday Europe was hidden mostly by clouds.
However, once we headed towards the Essex coast the clouds cleared, and down below I could see the regular lights of an offshore windfarm, and a little later we passed over Shoebreyness and then Southend before heading south to fly over Grain and along the Thames swooping over the Dartford crossing and getting lower and lower as we approached Greenwich and the airport.
And we were down. All in one piece and just wanting to get off, through immigration and onto a train back home. For once there was little queues at immigration, and as I walked to the DLR station a train to Stratford was announced. I made it up the stairs and onto the train. At which point I checked my watch to see if I would make the Dover train at twenty past seven: I had twenty five minutes. In other words, I would have about 5 minutes to spare! Not only that the train was almost empty for once, so I got a seat, and so could rest my aching back.
At Stratford I walked to the Southeastern station, went down onto the platform with four minutes to spare, and when the train arrived there were plenty of empty seats for all of us who were waiting. I slumped into a seat, texted Jools to let her know I had made it onto the train so she would be waiting for me at Dover.
And then the darkness surround the train as we headed through east London in a tunnel towards Dagenham, over the Essex marshes, under the Thames and into Kent. I dozed as Kent slipped by. Through Ashford, past the Channel Tunnel and Folkestone, along the coast and into Dover.
And there, high above the town, was the castle, the sign that I was home once again…..
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