And so begins another week. This time I have a late start with the travelling, as my flight isn’t until three fifteen, but it does mean I can’t get Jools to drop me off, or walk down the hill. No, this calls for something far worse; the father-in-law. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like him, but like anyone who has been driven by him, it is something to be avoided unless necessary. And I am in need, so the call was made and a time arranged. It is just down the hill, how bad could it be?
I do some work, have breakfast, pet the cats and pack. All ready for eleven so I would be ready if Tony came early. Which was just as well as he was early. I loaded the car, and we set off, having to cross two junctions, and in fact it was pretty painless as the Deal road as quiet. I unloaded my case, waved him goodbye and walked onto the station.
Thus learning an important lesson, don’t let your lift go before you check the arrivals board, as when I did there were no trains listed for 90 minutes, meaning I might miss my flight. In fact I would not, but it would be cutting it fine. Whatever. I did know why there were no trains, though. A person had been struck by a train in Herne Bay, I saw the tweets from the rail company, but failed to realise that the train I wanted to catch would be coming that way, and with the lines blocked. Well, you get the picture.
There was a call point on the station, the guy on the other end seemed very unfazed by the fact I needed to know if a train was coming, and if there would be announcements on the station. He admitted there would be none, but a train was due about midday. I decided to tweet the help desk, which confirmed this, and it seemed to be the speed of the reply showed more customer focus.
Anyway, some twenty minutes late, the train arrived, but the announcement once on board was that after Ashford it was running fast, non stop, to London. Those of us going to Stratford, as another train would be arriving ‘soon’ to take us. Sigh.
With no other choice we got off, and joined the others on the platform waiting. Indeed the train arrived withon a few minutes, we all got on board, and I got a seat, so settled down to watch the countryside fly by, by sitting ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE TRAIN! How odd that felt, but maybe I should do that more often.
20 minutes later we arrived in Stratford, the walk to the DLR, having missed a train by seconds, I waited ten minutes, the next one arrived and we headed out.
Travelling in the middle of the day means the airport was quiet, I checked in, dropped my case went through security. And instead of having a meal, I made do with a roll and paper cup of coffee, which still cost over eight quid!
The flight was called, and was under half full. In the 45 minute flight they managed to serve drinks twice and pick up the trash, good going I think.
My, or our, destination was Amsterdam. And as usual at a hub, the taxi to the parking slot seemed to last longer than the flight; we went over two motorways, a canal and a railway, and all over the airport we could see other aircraft making similar taxi trips.
I have no onward flight to catch, and I have all evening to sort the rest of the my trip to the hotel out, so I wait until most of the others have gotten off. What seemed like a three mile walk took me to immigration, and another similar walk brought me to baggage reclaim and my small case was going round and round.
In the concourse, it was another mile to the car hire place. I filled the form and was told the car was a short walk away. Up a ramp, along four travelators, along a corridor, down a lift, to the office. I show all my documents again, and I am given the keys to the car. The guy even brought the car to me. Another Polo.
I programmed the sat nav, and drove out of the garage, waiting for the signal to be made, I took the motorway, hoping the direction was right. It was, but took a turning before the one the nat nav was indicating, and had to drive round the airport again to get back.
Ten miles down the motorway, and five more miles to Ijmuiden, through the town centre, to the marina and the Holiday Inn. Yay.
I parked up, went in, filled in more paper work, showed my passport yet again, and was given my room key. In the room I looked at my watch, it was seven, and I was hungry and tired.
I ate alone in the restaurant, I could not resist the beer and burger combination. It was good.
Back in my room, I lay on the bed, flipped through the TV channels to see if there was something on. There wasn’t. I called home and gave in for the night, and went to bed. Shattered again.
Tuesday.
I awoke at dawn with the weak light of a misty morning shining through the gap in the curtains. I am at the Holiday Inn again, some three years since I was last here. Outside the window, there is not a breath of wind to move the waters of the marina. I listen to the workers outside, ready for another hard day road resurfacing, which is happening to the road outside the hotel. By half six work in is full flow and rest impossible.
I meet Rune at breakfast, he knows the way to the office, so after eating I let him drive me, so I can learn the way. Once there I find an office with my name, or at least my role on it. But I have to share with Rune, and our new assistant when he arrives from Manchester just before lunch. The day is spent discussing roles, and responsibilities, and then introduction to poor Dave who does not know what he is letting himself in for.
We have filled roles for lunch, and plenty of strong coffee, and so we continue after lunch, as from this office in a week the next stage of the project will go live. As for me, I have been at full throttle for months now, and people all seem to be telling to take things easy now. We shall see.
At five, we decide that is it for the day, and drive the two whole minutes to the hotel, make sure Dave has a room, and then go to our rooms. Me to write endless e mails and letter. And listen to the radio. Time seemed to pass. Outside it was foggy. Sounds were muffled, but still a helicopter was circling overhead; what were the chance for some sleep at some point?
Wednesday.
Another grey morning, and the noise I thought was the shower dripping was rain falling onto the balcony outside. Welcome to spring in Holland!
We meet up again at seven, drive to the office and go through it all again. At ten I have a meeting, and that takes the rest of the day. Tasks pile up as the meeting progresses. Sigh.
Chris takes us all for lunch at a local swanky fish restaurant. It is very posh, and we are in our working clothes, but they seem to ignore that. I can state that the garlic baked shrimp was stunning, and just needed a glass of red wine, but being halfway through the day, I made do with a diet coke.
Back to work, back to the meeting. Time passes, afternoon passes into evening.
We drive back to the hotel, and arrange to meet up at seven for dinner in the hotel. I have steak and local stupidly strong beer, the others have burgers. It works well. It has been quite a day, and for the next few months this will be my world.
Welcome to it.
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