Saturday 9th May 2015

Thursday.

Election day in UK

No Election in Denmark.

For some reason I am awake at just gone five, and it is daylight already outside. I try to get back to sleep, but it would not come, so, I get up, have a shower and pack. This is a flying visit to DK, I am at Billund in the evening, and flying home in the morning, which means checking out.

As ever, it is painless to check out, have a bite for breakfast, and even they are covering the British election. As this trip was a little last minute, I did not have time to arrange a postal vote, so I am not taking part. Silly me.

A quick drive to the office in the heavy morning rush hour traffic. Although it is not as bad as it sometimes is, maybe that is because it is daylight, and traffic seems easier than when its dark. Once in, I find a desk, fire off some mails and prepare for my meeting with my new boss.

I won't go into details, just as well I suppose, but a couple of weeks ago, it was announced a major reorganisation in the department, with my old boss stepping aside, and someone I had not heard of before, coming in. Coming in with new ideas. And I had a two hour meeting. to get through. Now, do I tow a company line, or tell the truth? Well, I will keep my council on that one.

Afterwards, at midday, I have to drive down to Esbjerg to meet the guys there, what with my friend Steffen having resigned, it is all change again. So, I need to know that all is well with who is left, and with the new guy who has come in. That leaves me with a 90 minute drive, and I also have a meeting when I arrive. It is at least sunny and driving is a pleasure, with the bright sunlight making the drive a joy, if not the heavy truck traffic. Down to Velje, then along the motorway to Esbjerg. I realise I have minutes to get to the office before the meeting is to begin.

I pull up outside, grab my bag, sign in, and I have seconds to spare. By the time the computer starts and I open up Lync, I am late, but only by a couple of minutes. That completed, I have more mails to send, people to see. It is four by then, and everyone is leaving the site. So, why not me too?

One final drive to Billund, once again in the bright afternoon sunshine. Traffic was light, and driving in the new car is fine, it was quite high, so I have good views over the farmland. At one point I pass a buzzard landing, and he is over a prey, all feather ruffling in the breeze. An amazing sight, lasts less than a second as I carry and drive past. Another hotel to check into, dump my bags, and then drop the car off, a walk to the terminal to drop the keys off, then go for what is my first meal in two days. As usual, a large beer and cheeseburger and fries. I was more than ready for it. And it tasted wonderful, even if its not the best burger in the world.

A 5 minute walk to the hotel, power the computer up once more to write more mails and listen to the radio. Outside there is a stunning sunset over the airport, all golden colours, and the noise of arriving and departing flights. I try flicking through the channels trying to find something worth watching, but there is nothing. So, when the radio show ends, i brush my teeth and go to bed.

Friday.

I wake up when the alarm sounds, its quarter to six. Switching on the computer to check the news it seems that the Conservatives are winning the election, I groan and switch it off. I don't have much to do, have a shower, get dressed and go out to the lobby for breakfast: some cereal, a roll with cheese and two coffees. It is a short walk back to the terminal, from the self service machine, I get my boarding card and go to the BA desk. The airport is about deserted, I have never seen it so empty. There are about 5 members of staff milling around the check in desks. No wait at security, and in 5 minutes I am in the lounge, powering up the computer once again. The results are getting even better for the Tories, I groan again. Pity to poor, the sick, the disabled and the old who will suffer like never befre for the next 5 years. The only highlight really is the collapse of the UKIP vote, or more accurately, their votes not turning into MPs.

When the flight is called at eight, I am surprised to find it full, all 28 of us on board. It is a glorious morning, there is barely a cloud in the sky, but once we have taken off, and climbing as we head south, thick cloud passes underneath, and the ground is obscured until we get to Essex. I have another breakfast, just another roll, but in a comedy moment, I manage to spill a cup of coffee over myself. Just my luck!

Outside, the clouds clear, and there is the Essex coast, its profile is now so familiar to me. We circle round south London, turning at Crystal Palace and Battersea again. And once again, my phone is in the hold, so I have no shots. We are a little further north than usual, we fly over Buckingham Palace, and have a really fine view of the palace.

Down over The Barbican and The City, and we are down, it is an hour earlier, and if I am lucky, I might catch the quarter to ten train from Stratford. Somehow I am the first off the flight into the terminal, along to the immigration, and through. My case comes round, I grab it, dash to the station, I get a train just as it is about to pull out, 15 minutes. Would I make it?

In a word, no. We arrive at Stratford at quarter to, just the time when the train was due, y the time I get up from the platform and across to the International station, it is 09:47, and I have missed the train by two minutes. That gives me time to have a coffee: gingerbread latte with an extra shot, which is just great. I check with the ticket office to see if I catch a train to Ashford and get a connecting train to Dover, I would only be in Dover 10 minutes earlier than if I wait. I wait.

Whilst on the platform, finally the result from Thanet South comes in, and the leader of UKIP fails to get elected. A small mercy. It is now clear the Tories have a majority, and they can get whatever legislation they want to through. And there is little we can do about it: greed and vested interest has won through, and the poor, the sick, the elderly and disabled will have to look after themselves. The law will be changed to limit legal challenges, and the costs will spiral, meaning the law and legal redress will be the privilege of the rich. As will healthcare. Newspapers, and even the BBC did not investigate the policies, or more importantly, the Tories record, and therefore, their lies, and incompetence went unchallenged.

The train comes, I get a window seat and watch as we pull out of the station and into the tunnel. Essex flies by, roads are clogged with traffic, but we are going in the opposite direction. And in a train.

At Dover there is a line of taxis waiting, so I take one and he whisks me up Jubilee Way to St Maggies and home.

And so I am home, and it is Friday. I steer clear of the news, make some lunch, then do some work on the computer, before finishing for the weekend. The radio burbles away to itself. I do some work in the garden, deadhead some daffs again, cut the runners off the raspberries. I am accompanied by various cats, all hoping I would feed them.

At four, Jools calls, should she get fish and chips on the way home? Yes, I think she should. Outside it has begun to rain, but I have got the washing in already. I butter some bread, boil the kettle all ready for Jools' arrival with dinner. When she does arrive, there is nothing quite like the expectation and smells of fish and chips in newspaper. And it is great, and in quick fashion I make it all vanish from my plate.

We have a quiet evening in, is there any other kind? Monty Don, in a garden. Then bed. Thanks you and good night,