Tuesday 8th December 2015

Monday

I was awake before 5, the humidity, in December, was just crazy. But it does mean that I made coffee, fed the cats and had breakfast on the table when Jools came down. And by six fifteen, we were fed and watered, as were the cats, and out of the door heading down to the station in Dover, dodging the queuing trucks on the main roads.

I get my ticket, then sit on a bench to start my phone and look through the weekend’s mails. I made some calls and was up to date. By the time to train arrived and we were pulling out of the Harbour Tunnel, there was a hint of light on the eastern horizon, but it still felt like the middle of the night. As usual, the train filled up and once out of Ashford, it was standing room only. The woman in the seat next to me unpacked a drink, sandwich, a book, I pod and draped her scarf and coat about her. Which meant when I got off it was a logistic operation for her to allow me out. I wouldn’t mind, but it’s a 30 minute trip, how bored can anyone get in half an hour?

At Stratford, I try to buy some more cards, but Smiths don’t sell them, at least not on the station concourse, neither do they in the airport. Which means half my colleagues will not get a card this year.

The DLR is full of the usual mix of people from all over the globe, and with someone holding a conversation via a loudspeaker on his phone to his child, so the whole carriage heard. Heard but not understood as it was in some east-European language.

Few queues at the airport, so I check my case in, go through security, then do some more work once I found somewhere to sit. It is always fin to travel with people who have not made this trip before, so were expecting a British Airway’s plane to have 80 seats or something, so the 30 on the little Dornier is a surprise for them.

I take my seat and we make ready to leave, hurtling down the runway and into the cloudy sky before clouds take the fine sight of Blighty away. I do get a glimpse of Colchester through the clouds for a moment, then even Essex is lost from view. But breakfast is being served. I put my watch forward an hour then tuck into a fresh roll with a cup of fresh coffee.

And it is not raining in Denmark, in fact the clouds clear as we approach the coast, and I get a clear view of Esbjerg including our pre-assembly site and the new huge V164 turbines we are installing nearby. They dwarf the old V80s nearby, making them look like toys.

Once landed, I get my case back, the keys to my Clio, and I am off, down familiar roads to Esbjerg for a meeting. The sun is out, there is no rain, and it is a real pleasure to be driving along with the countryside rolling by on both sides. As I approach the motorway, I see the tips of the new turbines over the trees, and even from this distance, 10km, they look huge. Closer up, on the main road into town, they tower over everything, looking like some kind of statue, the three blades in both not moving.

At the office I find my meeting is cancelled, so I call a friend who should have been here, only to find she is at the office near the new turbines. Do I want to come over? Of course.

So a ten minute drive over to Made, and about 400 metres from the turbines is the office. Shelly is waiting for me, and inside are my old friends Rune and Henrik. We chat and as we do, the blades on one of the massive turbines outside begin to turn for the first time.

I drive to the hotel, answer some more mails, then walk into town to wander to Bones for ribs with my friends, we have been scattered doing other jobs recently, but we will be all working together soon enough, and it is good to meet over good food and drink.

We retire to the Dronning Louise, and try a few of the Christmas beers, chat some more before it is time to walk back to the hotel, along deserted shopping streets and hence to bed.

Phew.