Friday 17th October 2014

Tuesday.

The past couple of times I have travelled to Denmark, I have had to catch the evening flight, due to the flights being fully booked, I suspect. So, this means having to do half a day’s work before finding a way of travelling to Dover then catching the train to London and so on.

So, I have a bit of a lay in, but with the weather hammering it down outside, there is little point in thinking of going for a walk or anything. SO, there is nothing else to do other than to switch the work laptop on and see what is afoot. Not much afoot as it turns out, all is quiet. So I do a bit of electronic filing, tidying up and the such.

I finish this at midday. I go to pack, double check that I have everything, then cook scrambled egg for lunch, and wait until it is time to leave. A sort of travel limbo.

Jools has been attending interviews the past couple of weeks, and had another Tuesday afternoon, which meant she was coming home to change and so could drop me off at the station en route to the interview. As yet, she has not had any luck in getting a full time job, but has been getting a large number of interviews. Anyway, she drops me off at Dover Priory at half two, and then heads to Sandwich. I buy my tickets and get a good window seat on the left side of the train. OK, I’m set.

This really is such a routine trip these days, I have done it so often, I should still be gobsmacked that part of my job consists of commuting to Denmark because I am considered so essential I am required to attend meetings and the like. A real change from the spotty Herbert that used to put the giblets back up the bums of chickens 29 years ago. Still doesn’t sound that long ago, and yet here I am.

Here I am on a train, thundering through the Kentish landscape in the pouring rain on a high speed train taking me to that London. I listen to the conversation of my fellow passengers. It is oddly satisfying as a couple quiz their daughter about her homework regarding how energy is generated. Should I say I help put up wind turbines? Maybe they would find out I did not know that much….

I get off at Stratford, board the DLR getting my usual seat. Maybe I should mix it up and sit on the other side of the train one time. Steady on! At the airport I am told I can only check my bag in two hours before departure, meaning I have 40 minutes to kill. I have a coffee and a slice of cake. As you do. And people watch. Those of us are regulars at the airport know just where to go, and those unfamiliar are staring at the unhelpful signs hanging from the ceiling.

Ten to five rolls round, and I am able to check my case in. I take the escalator to security and then I am selected to whave the whole body scan thing. Not because I am looking suspicious or anything. Oh no. So, I stand on the indicated spot, and turn round 360 degrees whilst one supposes the machine did its thing, and maybe on a computer drive somewhere is the record of this event. Don’t go looking for it. It’ll have your eyes out.

I am in the departure lounge with an hour and 50 minutes to kill, so I head to the restaurant, which is as overpriced as Rhubarb is, but the food at least looks like it was cooked by a human rather than just heated up in a microwave. I have a ‘game burger’ as I’m game for anything, apparently, and a glass of wine. It is OK, I mean it not going to cause a ripple in the field of culinary exploration, but it did the job. £45. No joke. I did laugh. And because I can pay with the company credit card, they carry on charging these stupid prices.

I wait for the flight to be called, and wander down to find it full. Rammed in fact. We wait until the bus is ready to take us to our outlaying pan. We walk out to the bus in the rain, and again to the plane, queuing in the driving rain, it is grim. But we all get on and are soon trundling down the taxiway to the end of the runway before we thunder down the runway and into the grey skies. I say grey, I am guessing as it was raining, and was now fully dark.

The lights of London vanish below us, and so we shake our way through the clouds, turning north then east before heading out over Essex and Suffolk. The clouds clear at one point to reveal the lights of East Anglia laid out below, with Lowestoft clearly closest, the lights of which nearly join up with those of Great Yarmouth. I look firther west to look at the lights of Norwich, hoping to see the lights of Carrow Road as an U21 game was taking place. Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.

I carry on reading my magazine, as the clouds close in below us. We only see the lights of Denmark until we are skimming on the final approach to Billund, and down we go, bouncing on the runway. Rain is hammering down. Welcome to Denmark.

I go to the car hire place, and this time I get some tiny Citroen plastic car. It really is all I need, but it is noisy and the gearbox is vague to say the least. But, it’ll do.

Off I go, heading into the wet Danish night. Rain is falling so hard that it seems like I am driving down rivers. On the E45 I head up at 90kmh, which seems to be the safest speed, but others are hurtling by at double the speed I am. But I make good time, turning off and driving up the outer ring road to the hotel.

The bar and restaurant had just closed, so I take a bottle of Coke up to my room to settle in before I turn in. I have to be up again in six hours as stupid me has arranged a meeting for eight in the morning, so I have to be in half an hour before then. OK, here goes.

Wednesday

I wake up at six, after a dreadful night’s sleep. I get cramp all night long and am always waking up. But, no time to dwell on that now, there’s a meeting to chair. C’mon, get up, get showered, get dressed, Ian!

It is still hammering down outside, and on the ten minute drive to the office I see two major accidents at junctions, the second only just having happened with the police and fire brigade in attendance.

I am in the office by twenty past seven, and ready to go. OK, take a deep breath, as seven straight hours of meetings ahead.

As this week is the ‘potato holiday’ here in Denmark, schools are off, so many parents are also on holiday. This means the roads are quiet, which in turn means that there is no heavy traffic outside, so I bid by boss goodbye and drive back to the hotel to chill out. Its been a long day.

I have an early dinner at half five: I have the salmon fishcakes followed by the traditional burger and fries. Just what I needed.

Back upstairs I call Jools; her interview went well but has not heard anything. Her sister has had her procedure and the growth taken out. She has been discharged and is at home, in a little pain, but all is looking well. What with Nan having recovered from her mini stroke, so all seems well with the world.

With that good news ringing in my ears, I head to bed at eight, shattered.

Good night.