Thursday 11th August 2016

The best laid plans and all that.

I was in Newcastle to handover the sales project I had helped to win over to the project team, but was here to support the new quality manager. I had sent him my travel details, telling him to ensure that he was booked into the same hotel as I was. This was so we could have a get together before the meeting with the customer. Anyway, its hard to say why it didn't feel right, but I guessed he was staying in a different hotel. I had texted Peter the day before, and got no answer, but as I was in a teleconference, I received the confirmation call I had been dreading.

I'm waiting in reception he told me.

Which reception, I asked.

The hotel reception.

Which hotel reception?

The Hilton in Gateshead he said. I was in the Premier Inn at the airport. 30km away.

He said he would get a taxi to where I was, only, he had no company credit card, so could I pay the bill?

Turning into a great day already.

It had begun with Jools texting me at half six, which was great as I had documents to review before the meeting, shower to have, breakfast to eat and all that. So, once up and dressed, I go to breakfast to find me looking at a road sign pointing the way north to Jedborough via the A68, my favourite road, so near to two friends of mine, and yet, I could not visit them, I had no time. So I thought about the places I know and love round there, whilst eating some fresh fruit and a crumpet.

Peter arrived, I paid his taxi, then we drove back to the A1, then down past the Angel of the North heading south until the sat nav told us to turn off. Like most modern companies, the customer had a suite of offices in a business park, looking all the world alike all the other buildings in the park. And to complicate matters, they have the strictest parking rules and enforcement, so it took half an hour to check in, move the car, fill in forms and have the safety brief.

But after half an hour, and coffee and introductions, we could get down to the serious stuff of the day.

It went well, and by two or so, we were wrapping up. They had taken us out for lunch, to some kind of canteen serving all the offices, which was OK, doubly so as they picked up the bill. But, as the afternoon wore on, I began to worry about traffic, and thinking of all the places I had to pass through or near, I thought leaving at about three would be perfect. Missing the rush hour around Sunderland, Leeds, and hopefully Doncaster as well, then maybe take a dinner break at Peterborough, and be on the M25 around half seven, just as the rush hour around London would be over. That was the plan.

And that is how it turned out really, and as well as driving the sofa on wheels, I had digital radio, fine weather and for the most part, light traffic. I had just missed a blockage on the A1 that the local traffic news was warning about, cows on the road, which explained why the road was so quiet when I joined. I blast down the road, through County Durham into North Yorkshire, hammering down at 70mph, and the car really did not break sweat. Four came and went, as did five. I passed Ripon, York, Leeds when I turned onto the A1. Past Doncaster, only encountering traffic at Whetherby, which then melted away after being held up for half an hour. Finally going past Nottingham, Lincoln and Newark as "the norther" ended and the south began; countryside flattened out, coal mines disappeared, and the traffic thinned out some.

It was by now half five, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open, but I had planned to step at a diner near to Stamford, I saw the sign some quarter mile shy of it, so slowed down and pulled in at twenty to six; about half way through the journey.

I had burger, fries and a huge Coke, followed by a coffee so to keep me alert. Quarter past six, lots of miles to go.

The radio burbled on as I tore south, zipping past lorry after lorry, by now, I just wanted to get home. Once at Newark, it feels like it should be a hour's run to Cambridge, but the road stretches on and on as we pass through fields of crops being harvested. Past Peterborough until it was time to take the A14 to Cambridge, then down the M11 to join the M20 north east of London. Going this way cuts out a large portion of the M25, but then you get the traffic around Cambridge instead.

But it was gone seven, and what traffic there was, was going in the opposite direction. I made good time, sticking to the speed limit. Past Cambridge, down the motorway and into Essex, and finally onto the M25, driving round to Dartford.

With the sun in the extreme west, and golden light everywhere, it was almost pleasant; over the Thames into Kent, down the M20 with the setting sun behind me, shining bright in my rear view mirros almost blinding me, until they all turned blue with tinting, thus my eyes were saved. Clever car.

I was tired, and was now pushing it, and yet the car coped; it had used less than half a tank all the way from Newcastle. The final stretch now, through Ashford as dusk descended, lights came on and I really just wanted to get home now.

Through Dover, and then up Jubilee Way; I switch the car onto "sports" mode; floor the accelerator, and it roars up the steep ramp leading through the gap in the cliffs.

It was ten to nine when I pulled up; Jools was sitting outside with the cats, waiting for the meteor shower to start. I have a cuppa and join her as darkness falls. Bats are attacted to the insects attracted by the candles she had lit, it was like a small air show. I have a whisky, then another as we wait for the next shooting star.

I was home, and my head was spinning