It never feels like its time to go to work when its still dark, no matter how much sleep you’ve had. Although I determined to lay in, I was awake at six in the morning, down for breakfast at half past, and in the office by seven. Much to my surprise, the spare wheel stayed on, and still felt like I had done the job properly.
I called the Danish version of the AA to see if they would come out to fix the car. In a word: no. I just have to live with a car with hundreds of horses under the bonnet and not being able to go over 80km/h. Hurrumph.
Work passed slowly, but the regular insertions of an unwanted meeting here and there meant the clock kept ticking. At five I decided I had had enough and tried to head home. It seems that by then the rush hour has passed, and it is a gentle run to the ring road then round to the hotel.
I booked dinner for six, something I have not needed to do before, but is necessary now due to the large number of handball players in the hotel. Anyway, I had an hour, and snoozed some, then at quarter to six, checked in online and selected my seat for the flight home. Although intending to have the pasta for a main, I heard my stomach demanding burger. OK, I had not eaten anything since fruit since breakfast, so what the hell.
Back in my room I switched the TV, and found Top Gear on. They had turned cars into locomotives; don’t ask, and now were trying to pull several caravans. Jezzer was going faster and faster in his jag, and was it only I who could see that a red signal was going to appear sooner or later? I don’t know, I have long since grown bored with this automotive Last of the Summer Wine and switched it over so I could watch Denmark play the Czech Republic in the handball.
With Denmark playing, of course, the arena was full and very noisy. It was a great game, which Denmark won by 5 goals, if that is what they are called. So I went to bed happy that I had seen them win.
Friday.
I had another bad night’s sleep; the cold that has been threatening all week seemed to be closer. I was awake at three, four and by five it seems I was awake for good. At just before six I threw open the curtains to reveal three inches of snow on the ground, on the cars and snow still falling.
Bugger.
I said.
I packed, went to check out and then put my bags in the car. So at the same time I could clear all the snow away. If it was anything like Germany then all snow had to be cleared off. In fact most of it felt like slush, so it was clear that it might be melting soon. However, it was clear that the morning commute was going to be ‘interesting’.
I had breakfast and watched the national news at the same time. The news seemed to be mainly pictures of policemen looking at motorways covered with 2cm of snow, and said motorways taped off so closed. You know, we Brits like to think that it is only us that cannot cope with a few flakes of snow. When in fact I have seen the same scenes in France, Belgium and Germany, so maybe we’re not so bad after all.
Once out on the road, there were tracks made of frozen slush, but I got to work without incident, and seemed to be one of the first people in. I parked up, and went to work in the communal office, but not before grabbing a strong coffee.
The day passed well enough being filled with meetings. I got the task for the project done, the first of my official communications to the customer. Nothing grand, but this is still serious stuff. I now have a credit card with which I can purchase meals from the canteen, so at lunch I was able to join the others for a fine meal for 25DKK.
And then it was time to head to the airport. Everyone was telling me to allow an extra hour for the trip due to the tales this morning on the radio of jack-knifed trucks and cars.
Driving in what amounted to be a blizzard, and that I was restricted to just 80kmh due to the spare wheel, I was by some margin the slowest vehicle on the roads, and it was hairy at times as lorries and trucks inched past me, as I cruised down the motorway towards the airport. I was glad to turn off, but then I was left with the Danish version of boy racers tailgating me in the vain hope of making me go faster.
Thing is, driving so slow is so dull, and me being so tired, I was wandering all over the road, but managed to catch myself before I drove into a field or something.
I arrived at the airport, walked to the terminal building and then had to fill in an accident report form for the flat tyre. I could then check in, drop my bag and then go through security to the departure lounge and have a drink at the gastrobar. Pav was there and so we wished each other a happy new year and swapped news.
On the plane, I sat next to a guy I have met a few times; he works for Lego and he told me his news. Well, I said it must be a big year for Lego, what with The Simpsons sets coming out soon. He told me that a test set was sent to one of their factories in Mexico, but the package was broken into somewhere en route, and the figures taken out, and within an hour on sale on e bay. Also, of course there is the Lego Movie coming out, and he was able to watch it this week and reports it is very good too.
Anyway, by the time of take-off, the snow was falling hard and I was anticipating a rough trip. But, once we got above the clouds, it was smooth, and I soon nodded off. When I awoke, I could see the twinkling lights of Lowestoft in the distance as we made our way down the North Sea. We edged closer to the coast, Felixstowe and Harwich were clear as a bell, and we almost flew right over Clacton. I could make out the pier and the flashing lights of the amusement arcades. Away to the south, the town lights got denser and denser, until the lights of London filled the horizon. It looked for all the world like diamonds sprinkled on a black velvet bag. Quite magical.
Down and down we went, over the south Essex coast, over the Isle of Grain and into Sussex. We must have been in a hold, but we turn 180 degrees, and fly back over Grain before heading along the Thames. I was sitting on the other side of the aircraft, so I got a different view as we headed on final approach, but during the turn, I saw, rising almost yellow above Southend and the expanse of mud flats, was the full moon, shining so brightly.
Son, the moon was behind us, as we swept lower, sitting on this side of the aircraft meant not seeing the ground from the side until we were almost touching down, giving the impression that we were going to ditch in the old dock. But we landed safe and sound.
Oce out of the plane, we had a short wait at immigration. I looked at my watch, just enough time to get to Stratford if the DLR was waiting..... It almost was, and I thought I stood a chance. I had to be at Stratford by seven fifteen really, to give me time to get down to the platform.
As it turned out, I missed the dover train by 20 seconds. Or it had left 20 seconds before I even got into the station. Drat. So, I shrugged, no point in getting angry. I go to the coffee shop for an Americano, and check the news. Not much has happened; the world is both a wonderful and cruel place.
I caught the train to Margate, getting off at Ashford. I even got a seat for once, which is nice, but there is little to see out of the windows, just my reflection looking back at me, with the lights of South Essex speeding past.
At Ashford, the moon cannot be seen any more, and it feels cool, but not as cold as Denmark. I listen to a banker boasting to his friends how he had spent $500 on a round of drinks in Vegas. It sounded crass and vulgar. Which it was.
And onto the Dover train after a ten minute wait. Rain ran down the outside of the windows, getting ever harder. By the time the train limped into Priory, it was like a monsoon. I ran outside to where Jools was waiting, and threw my bags in the back of the car. Driving home, the wipers could barely cope and the roads were turning to rivers. Welcome home, Ian.
But we got home safe, after driving at 30mph, and there was just enough time to put the kettle on before it was time for bed. Another week done.....
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