Back to the working week. And here I am all alone at home, with the wind blowing outside and the cats not wanting to go out. In fact the sun is shining, but although June is usually considered summer, it feels like March with that wind. The hedge is blown about, and is falling to pieces, we are thinking how to repair it.
The day pans out as usual, answer mails, attend meetings, answer more mails, attend more meetings. There is a pattern here. Lunchtime comes round, I have ham sandwiches. All exciting stuff I think you’ll agree.
And then to the afternoon. More of the same, really. Only, I am thinking of my travels which start again on Tuesday, heading back to the frozen wastes of Denmark. I doubt summer has reached there either. How right I was.
By the time Jools gets back it is gone six, I cook breaded chicken and lentil dahl, which I wash down with Mocha beer, which is wonderful even if I say so myself. I pack, have a shower then sit down to watch Springwatch. And somehow, the day has passed.
Tuesday.
Storms at this time of year are rare. So, with travelling to Denmark, I have to make sure the trains are running and the planes are flying. Twitter makes this the only place I need to check, and all seems well. Even if the flight will probably be lumpy bumpy. At least I am only away for two days, back on Thursday, and for the most part this trip is a celebration and I will be thanking my team in Esbjerg and the technicians there too. I will have to make a public speech, and every time I think about it, I am reminded of Blackadder.
Jools drops me off at the station, and with the wind howling and rain in the air, it feels like autumn at least. I pay for my ticket, and leaving the other passengers sheltering under the awning, I stand at the end of the platform, letting the wind blow the cobwebs from my brain. It does wake me up.
The train arrives and I get a seat, which is always the case heading out, before all the people pile on in Dover and Folkestone. Indeed, it is just about standing room only by the time we leave Folkestone, and many people standing after Ashford. But before then, as we trundle along the remains of Dover Town Yard, the waves are crashing onto Shakespeare Beach, showering the train with fine spray.
On the train, people are sitting in groups of friends, or otherwise eyes focused on phones or tablets, watching some TV shows or playing games. The glorious countryside glides by, observed only by me.
In London, children are back to school, so the train fills up quickly, as the cross east London, collecting folks and dropping them off a couple of stations later. At the airport, not being a Monday, it is quite empty. However, there are only queues at the first class desk, much to the annoyance of the rich bloke next to me,a s I check in my bags before he does. What can I say, bloke?
I have just half an hour before my flight, so no time for a proper sit down breakfast, so I have a coffee and a baguette. It is no surprise that my flight is delayed, as the flight from Denmark has been flying into the wind, so it would take longer. In the end, we are half an hour late taking off. Which is fine as I have no pressing meetings to attend once I arrive.
We enter cloud as we pass over the Millennium Dome, and do not see the ground until we are skimming over the Danish farmland on final approach. As expected it was lumpy on tack off, and the landing was very bumpy, but we touch down very gently, safe and sound. On leaving the plane, I thanks the pilot, as it was some good flying to touch down in those conditions.
Outside, there are near gale force winds, and the rain is horizontal. This is Denmark in June!
I am given an Audi A3 at the car hire place. Which makes this a good day. I walk through the gale to the car park, find the car, load up, climb in and switch the engine on . VROOM it goes. So I pump the gas pedal a couple of more time for effect.
The drive to Esbjerg, even in the Audi, was not a pleasant one; the rain fell, lorries threw up spray, and it was with some relief when I turned onto the motorway for the final few miles into town. Since I was last here, the trees have grown leaves, and even in the teeth of the storm, it looks springlike, and less brown than last time I was here.
Arrival at the office is like meeting old friends, as that is who works here; old friends. We chat, have coffee and I deal with the mails that have come in during the day.
Outside the weather was still wild, which meant there was no work going on outside at all, and people were heading home early for once. I joined them, driving to the hotel a few hundred yards away, and for a change there were spaces in the car park. I check in and have a room on the 3rd floor. I see they have tried to brighten the place up, but then there are bare wires leading into two of the light fittings, and the 70s radio/clock is still in place on the wall.
The rain still hammered down.
But at six, when it was time for me to walk to the restaurant, it had stopped. Which is good for me as I had no waterproof coat, just a hat. As I neared Butchers, the name of the restaurant, the heavens opened, and so I ran to the door and was dry inside.
Butchers is a meat-based restaurant, which comes as no surprise to anyone. But is very good, and a tad expensive, but I have got the quality team together for a celebration to say thanks for all the hard work they have done. It was rib-eyes all round, which was glorious, but die to the others driving, we had the one beer, and once we had eaten, the others left and I walked back to the hotel.
And that was the day, outside it had stopped raining, but over the docks I could see the lagoon was all white horses. I was so tired, with the news of Sepp Blatter’s resignation coming in, I went to bed. Maybe, not all was wrong with the world after all.
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