Anyway, back to earlier in the week.
Tuesday.
We had a late start back at the factory, not having to be there until nine, but we find ourselves all ready to go at twenty past eight, so drive the 6km to the factory and prepare for the day ahead. At least this would not last past half two as the auditors have flights to catch, so we put up with the circular nature of the day counting the minutes down. In the end, we finish at half one, and we wave them off at two, and Anni and I head back to the hotel. After just 5 hours sleep, thanks to the beer and mozzies, I take to my pit for a couple of hours before a short walk before dinner, where I find myself on a bridge overlooking a marshalling yard hoping to see some train on train action.
I see a single shunter, bustling back and forth, so I snap that as it passed beneath me, before heading back to the hotel to meet with Anni for pre-dinner drinks. And then dinner. And then back to my room to catch up on work, as I have to clear my in tray by the time we leave for the airport at ten the next morning. This meant working through a warm and sulty evening, and I failed to head out to snap the super moon rising over the bell tower in the centre of town, which we saw on the way back from the restaurant the evening before. I take to my bed at half eight, and soon sleep takes me, and the mozzies get to work having their dinner. And supper.
Wednesday.
I am awake at half five thanks to the early night previously. I put the computer on to listen to some music and wait until seven until it was time for breakfast.
I have the usual things; fruit, yoghurt, a roll filled with cheese. And coffee. Lots of coffee. Anni Joins me and we chat about work and stuff. And back to my room, to finish a re-write of a document so it can be sent off before ten. That done by nine, I pack, take the lift down to the lobby to check out. Anni is waiting so we make an early start for the airport.
Its a quiet drive, although made exciting by the high powered cars hurtling past us on the autobahn at 'oh my goodness that was quick' speeds. Or words similar or ruder.
Finding a place to drop the car off was trickier than it should be as they seemed like to hide the signs, but we find it, and within a couple of seconds we have logged the car in, and we can walk to the departure hall to check in. But we are a tad early. I have three hours before the flight, and Anni has four. And I suspect, correctly, that I will not be able to check in until two hours before the flight is due. Anni, flying with another carrier is able to drop her bags off, I have to stand in line for 35 minutes until twenty past eleven. The assistant sits at the desk looking at the clock, and does not try to log in un til the clock ticked to twenty past. As I was in the front, I get to check in first, request a window seat, and am free to go through security.
Anni is waiting me the other side, so we go for an early lunch of salad and a diet Coke. All exciting stuff. I look for some stuff to buy in the shops, but I bault at the price of the whisky, and the chocolates are the usual tourist stuff, like Toblerones the side of mountains and the such. At just before one the gate opens, and so I big farewell to Anni and take me and my work bag to the flight.
Once again I have a row to myself, and no space to store my bag above my seat, but I see now the narrow overhead lockers are such above these rows due to the fact the wings take up some of the space, and being quite important on planes, I don't mind. No delays this time, we taxi away and roar off down the runway and into the blue sky and home. Home for my holibobs.
Europe is covered in cloud, and I see no land until we reach the Dutch coast and I see the mouth of a large river. I had passed most of the flight sipping a glass of red wine and reading the interesting in flight magazine. No, you read that right. And down we came, flying over the Essex coast, breaking through the cloud cover north of Southend and flying over to Kent then round south London before turning to swoop low over the river, passing over the Houses of Parliament, The Barbican and The City. Again.
Landing at two in the afternoon means no competing with other flights for landing slots, so we run straight into final approach and straight to the runway, bouncing and then being thrown against the seat in front as the pilot selects full reverse thrust. We stop at gate four, the doors open and we are free to go, and no waiting at immigration, just those who were rushing to get off the flight first.
My case is waiting at reclaim, so I walk to the DLR station catch the first train to Canning Town and change for a train to Stratford. I realise I could catch the five to three train, but decide on the one twenty minutes later direct to Dover so Jools could get the full eight hours work in, and no upset the company. So, at Stratford I head to the cafe for a brew and to finish the book I had been dipping in and out of for the last three weeks. So I decide to wait on the platform.
Being just before the start of rush hour, I get a seat on the train, and so I can now really begin to relax as we storm under East London, through south Essex and under the Thames. Jools is waiting at the Station, I load my cases and we drive home, up onto the cliffs and along Reach Road.
I am on holiday!
We have fish and chips for dinner, and as the day fades we discuss the work on the house, as now we have confirmation of a start date for the rendering, the windows have almost all been done, so just the final act to do.
And I'm on holiday. Did I mention that?
I try to watch an episode of Top Gear, but Clarkson really is a dick and I can't bear it, so switch the TV off. I unpack, have a shower so I am all nice and clean for my holiday.
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