Friday 8th May 2015

Tuesday.

And back to the coalface. If I lived in a coalmine, way below the surface. I don’t, and as I have done all my travel expenses now, can work from home. Which means, watching Jools get ready for work, making a second coffee, having breakfast, get dressed and then getting the work computer out and start the working day.

Outside, the rain was coming down sideways, always an impressive sight. Glad I was inside, but then I had to go out later. And what an adventure that would be!

After a meeting, I called a taxi to run me into town for my dental appointment. I was there in time, but they were behind. Midday came and went, as did quarter past. Finally I goes in, and so the torture begins. Don’t think we need anesthetic on this one, do you? He asked. I agreed, but was tense, very tense for the next half an hour as he fixed my filling, gave me a good clean. I may not have a million dollar smile, but its ok. And they’re all mine. Mostly.

The plan was to walk back home, along the cliffs. I have done it in an hour and a quarter, when I was fitter, so I thought two hours should do it. After calling in for a stiffner at the White Horse, I walked along Townwall Street to Athol Terrace, in front of me the path rose up stteply to make it to the cliff tops. But what is this, the path is closed!

Closed for six months, and no alternative route! Bah and double bah! I think what to do. Oddly enough there are no roads with footpaths home, and this is the only safe way to walk home from Dover. The only other alternative, is up Castle Hill, along Reach Road, which means dodging traffic, and risking life and limb. But now that the rain had stopped, and despite it blowing a gale, it was a fine day, and the cliffs would be great.

So, I double back along Athol and East Cliff, past the pub and up the long slog and climb of Castle Street. It is a struggle for sure: past the castle entrance, to the top of Connaught Hill and up and round to the Start of Reach Road. But, thankfully, the verges have been recently cleared, and there was just enough space to walk along most of it, without walking in the road. Across Jubilee Way, and up again to the hairpin bend where I could pick up the path again, as long as I can just not get knocked over.

And I make it, traffic was light, and for the most part drivers gave me lots of clearance, but some did not, and I could feel the air being moved by their wing mirrors. Twats the lot of them.

I look down the footpath, past Jubilee Way, some 400 yards from where the path was blocked, it had taken about an hour. Maybe less, but it felt like an hour. But now I was on the cliffs, with the wind in my hair, with views over to France and the ferries trying to get into port through heavy seas and waves crashing over their bows.

I walk up the Cliff Road, and then cut across Langdon Hole to pick up the path as it heads north, climbing higher and higher. The gales was at its peak now, battering me as I tried to walk along. Below and out in the channel, the sea was all white horses, and very impressive.

It was already nearly three, how had it taken this long. I tried to look for some orchids at Fan Bay, but the wind was too strong to see anything with any detail. I pressed on, at least I was getting near the lighthouse now, which marks the end of the cliff part of my walk, just have to get from there home.

I pass a few folks out walking, but I am happy, with the sight of the sea, the sound of the wind and the dramatic landscape to entertain me.

At the lighthouse, I take the path to the road, then cutting across the fields to the church, and finally down Station Road to home. It was five to four, it had taken the whole afternoon.

I open the back door, and three cats are waiting to be fed, not thinking I should have a brew first, now it was all meow, meow, meow. I make a brew, feed them, then set about packing for the trip on Wednesday. Where does the time go he asks…..

I prepare dinner, breaded aubergine, and the pasta salad made on Sunday. I am just finished the egg and breadcrumbing when Jools comes home. She makes more brews. I cook the aubergine. We sit down for dinner, and all is well, apart from the fact I am off travelling again on the morrow.

Even the football fails to engage: just the Champion’s League, but it is all bread and circuses, but Juve beat Real 2-1, which is good enough, even if I don’t see the final 20 minutes as I was asleep already. Phew, rock and roll.

Wednesday

I was awake at dawn, if not before. As somehow, in England, at the beginning of May, I have been bitten to buggery by a mozzie. Maybe two. The itching on my legs are driving me to distraction, and needless to say, sleep is hard to come by. Also, it was hard to sleep as Mulder tried to make a cat nest with a curtain still attached to the curtain rail. But credit where its due, in that he kept on trying, and was purring for England as he went about his work.

I laid in bed, listening to the wind still blowing outside. Better than it blowing inside, I guess.

I get up, as does Jools, we have a coffee and soon the minutes slip by and it is time to drop me at the station. Time spent at home with Jools goes so quick!

The ticket office is closed, so I go to wait on the platform with the other commuters. Above us, crows are arguing about who owns a nest, it seems to be settled, but the crow who won carries on squawking. The train arrives on time, and I get a window seat, the ticket collector vanishes from the carriage and I don’t see him for the rest of the trip. By the time we leave Folkestone West, it is pretty much standing room only, and I am trying to snooze, but as ever the passing countryside is too interesting.

At Stratford I have to buy my tickets, and right away hand over the out part to get through the barrier. A DLR train has just left, so I have like 6 whole minutes to wait! I must be running a little later than usual, as the train fills with families on the school run, so get off at West Ham, or Canning Town, but are replaced, many get off at the airport, but leave through a different entrance.

I get my ticket, check my case in, go through security, and am in the departure lounge with half an hour before the gate opens. I grab a sandwich and a coffee from a shop, and sit to watch the world go buy as I munch and sip. But it does seem that the airport have bought the most uncomfortable chairs in the world, maybe they don’t want us to stay long?

The flight is late, ten minutes or so, so the ten of us on it make our way to the gate, are checked in. Again. The lead out to the plane, we can spread out and relax, that is until we take off. As the wind is still blowing quite hard, it would be an interesting take off and climb to the cruising altitude, taking off wasn’t so bad, but you could feel the plane twitching in the gusts. We bank to the north, and soon are just under the cloud cover.

As we go in, the plane lurches, it leaves my stomach some 10m above. The next one is even bigger, there is a loud bang, but we carry on climbing. And once we have broken through above the cloud, it is calm and there are no bumps. Although the ground is mostly lost from view. Except when we cross the Suffolk coast, Orford Ness is laid out like a map below. My camera is in the hold. No shots for you.

I have lunch, two coffees, an orange juice. We pass over northern Holland, and up to Denmark. Denmark is stunning, soft fluffy clouds all over the place, mottling the land below. But under some, sharp showers fall. We would get wet!

We bounce down, and taxi to the terminal. Just the nine others manage to bump and barge each other as they all try to be the first one off. Why? I am last off, I get my bag, and walk up to the terminal, go through immigration, and my bag is already waiting for collection. I am given a brand new Mitsubishi off road thing for the week. It had 9km on the clock, and was fin to drive, if a bit underpowered to be a true off roader, but was pleasant enough.

I drive up to head office, and once inside, I find there is almost no one I know hard at work. Or lounging around. In fact the who project team is missing, so I take the manager’s desk and begin work. I see some of my old team, they all seem fine, and in fact its all rather pleasant. I have a coule of meetings, and as once more just my old boss and I are the last ones working, I give up and drive to the hotel.

Thanks to the over use of the loyalty scheme, I am now presented with a small box of mixed nuts as I check in. Is it satire I wonders.

I have a couple of hours to kill before my ex-colleague, Anni is to call for me and drive me to her flat for a get together and a few drinks. So, I listen to the radio, snooze.

She is on time, as am I, which is good. They live in a top floor flat next to the Tivoli Gardens, it is very nice. As is the beer. Beer is almost always nice. But sharing drinks with friends is good. Bo tries to convince me freeform jazz is good. I am not won over, He then tried to turn me onto Steely Dan: again, I am not convinced. Little Feat were good and might be worth another listen.

Time flies and it time to go, they call me a taxi, but name is Ian I said! Oh, the old ones are always the best. Soon, a guy who seems to speak little English or Danish is taking me, at high speed, along the empty streets of Arhus to the hotel. It is midnight, and I realise as I get into my room, I left my phone at their place.

Bugger.