Up at five when it is still dark, but there is promise of daylight on the eastern horizon. I finish packing, have breakfast, well, a coffee at least, and wait until it is time to leave the house for the station. In what was to come a feature of the week, I spent my last minutes at home trying to fix computer problems.
Once in the car and heading to the station, it is clear it is going to be a glorious day in Kent; a cloudless sky looks down on a landscape unbothered by wind. It is almost daylight on the station as I wait for the train, and so I can stare out of the window as we head up to London, zooming past the traffic on the motorway and crossing the Thames at Dartford. The flood water has receded near Ashford, and the land is looking more land-like. Which is nice.
The DLR is packed too and I pass the time as we go through the now familiar stations by people watching, or at least looking that their shoes, as you can tell a lot about someone by their shoes.
The airport is quiet and I get my boarding pass, check in my bag and am through immigration in then minutes and sitting down for 2nd breakfast a couple of minutes later. I st at a table where I can watch the BBC new rolling away on a large screen TV. It is all about Ukraine, of course, and it is full of the Russians protesting they have done nothing wrong.
The gate opens at half nine, and we are boarding within 5 minutes, taxiing right on time at a quarter to. And with a roar we trundle down the runway, leaping into the air before we reached the line with the terminal building. We bank right and as I hoped we get a grand view of London laid out below us like a map, with the river like a ribbon laid between the muddle of buildings and streets.
As we climb higher and head out over Essex, we take a slightly more inland route and so I fail to see the familiar landmarks down below. But the countryside is flat and apparently in the bloom of spring as the sun shines down from a clear sky. Finally we turn east and we pass the coast just south of Southwold, giving me a view up the coast to my old hometown, Lowestoft, before lunch is served and all below us is the sea.
I finish lunch as we are flying over northern Holland, which really is flat, I am entranced by the patterns of lakes, rivers and canals that mean the land is kept flood free and make it possible to farm it.
And over the sea to Denmark, over two more offshore windfarms being erected, over sanbanks and small islands created by the tides. Denmark is covered by cloud, of course, but it is thin enough to allow some milky sunshine to break through meaning the land is full of vibrant greens and browns at least.
We bounce down and heading up to the terminal in 5 minutes, I am last as I'm in no hurry. I have brought the folks in the car hire place a present, as they are so kind to me, it may be their job, but seeing them is also like seeing old friends too. The give me a Clio for the week, and I am soon zooming through the countryside I was so recently flying over.
I drive to see my friends in Esbjerg, to have a meeting and to catch up. I realise its been so long since I was there, and make a promise to stay the night next time I come over so we can catch up some more over a beer or three.
At four I pack up again as I have to drive to Arhus to the hotel, so I am ready to go the next morning with meetings. Whilst at Esbjerg, however, my computer began playing up, in particular Outlook refuses not just to work by to recognise my password. IT are no help either, although it does work for a while just before I leave.
Once in the car I head along to the E45 at a steady 110, that's kph, with other cars zipping past, but I'm in no hurry, I just want to get there before dark. The motorway is crowded, but I make good time as the sun sets and the sky turns to pink.
Once at the hotel, I check in, I have a nice room, but then they all are pretty much. But I have a wait until half seven before there is a table free for dinner. I pass my time trying to get the speakers to work that I had immobilised on Friday in an attempt to get my communicator headphones to work. The sound of Radcliff and Maconie fill the room, and I lay on my bed with my eyes closed.
I find a friend of mine, Gary, in the restaurant, so I join him instead of my reserved table, which means we chat through the meal so no need of the book I had brought. I give in to my stomach and order the burger, although I don't eat it all.
As there is no football on TV, I get my head down at half nine and settle down to a good night's sleep, uninterrupted by cats, except, as it turned out, in my dreams.
Wednesday.
Up at half six, Danish time. Have a shower and I am down for breakfast by seven. A quick zip round the rig road takes me to the office; I sign in, go to my desk, switch the computer on and I cannot get into Outlook. At all.
I call IT.
They treat me like a child. Have you switched it off and on again? Did you enter the correct password?
The still can't get it to work. The 'repair' Office. They reinstall Outlook. They create a new user profile for me. They change my password. Several times. In the end I have to cope without it, but 5 hours have passed. I get on with what I can do, which is attend meetings. I listen, try not to fall asleep.
When I leave my computer is still not fixed, but I can use webmail, although it does not remember my contacts mails and I have to type them in manually. I get by, other folks around the world have worse problems.
Back at the hotel another old friend, Keith, is in the restaurant, so I sit with him, drink beer, talk football, talk music and generally chew the fat until it is time to head back to our rooms so we can watch the England v Denmark game. Being a friendly, it was not exciting. And as ever, following in on Twitter is much more enjoyable than the game
itself. The game ends at 11, and so I switch the TV off and head to bed, off home in the morning.....
Yours sincerely,
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