Monday 12th September 2016

THe alarm goes off at half five. It is just getting light outside. The air, still warm from the prvious day, lays heavy like a blanket. People and cats have had a poor night's sleep, and now it is MOndya, and some of us have to go to work, while others have to travel. I have to go to Husum in northern Germany; this involves an early afternoon flight from London into Hamburg, but do I go early when Jools goes to work, mess around in London for a couple of hours, or stay at home, get a taxi into Dover and all that.

In the end, I decide to go up to London on the 07:06 train from Martin Mill, Jools can drop me off then drive to work, and I get to sit on a train looking out the window as we go to London: Dover laid out as we leave Guston Tunnel, the new viaduct, mist of the Medway and all the other stuff.

We are well organised, but yet I feel my time at home rushing to an end, I check Twitter for travel updates, have breakfast, then tidy up. And we're off.

The train is on time, and a few of us hardy travelers are waiting in the warm morning sunshine, most heading to offices in London to stare at computer screens or other such things. There is mist as we make our way up Martin Mill Bank to Guston, then into the darkness of the tunnel, emerging with the town on the left hand side of the line. THe train then meanders dwon through Buckland, losing height all the time until we are at sea level.

The train fills up, I look out the window, whilst others either read the free paper of stare into their phones. Some even sit in groups with friends, and do the old fashioned thing of talking to each other. I stay on all the way into London, still a novelty for me, as normally I get off at Stratford. I am last off the train, as I'm in no hurry.

I walk over first to Kings Cross to see if I can spy one of the new Azuma units at the buffers; but there are just the usual HSTs and 91s. I take shots anyway, because I can.

Back to St Pancras and down onto the Thameslink platforms to see if I could see one of the new 700 units: no luck there either. I take a very crowded train to Farringdon, and wait there half an hour, but just the usual mix of familiar traction comes through. And I attract the attention of the dispatcher, who eyes me with suspicion

I end up at St Pauls, and wander through the backstreets, ending up at St. Peter on Cornhill in the hope of getting inside, but it is locked. In amazement I see a young man swan past me with a key, open the door, go in without looking back. I was too dumbfounded to ask if I could go in.

I find a nice place for breakfast, it is already feeling like 30 degrees out there, and getting in somewhere with air conditioning was a real joy. I have salmon and scrambled eggs and a coffee, and pass half an hour.

By eleven, I am hot and bothered, and getting no photography done, I decide to go to the airport to relax there, check work mails and cool down some.

I walk to Bank station, then along endless passageways nearly to Monument to the DLR platforms. I direct train to the airport leaves within 5 minutes, taking me through the old East End and then out to modern Docklands. It really is a joy to be on a train weaving through the building and streets in the bright sunshine.

I get my boarding pass, and as I am traveling light, I have no bag to check, but have to put toiletries in a small bag. The woman on security seemed delighted to tell me that my deodorant was too large to be carried through by a whole 20ml. Bitch.

I check mails, make calls. The usual.

The flight is called, and the 30 or so of us make our way to the gate, show our boarding passes and passports again, then allowed to board. We take off into a blue sky, passing over the old Olympic Park and Stratford International before climbing into the haze of the autumn day leaving the land below just a hint.

But where am I going you may ask: well, I am off to Hamburg, then by car to almost the Danish boarder to meet up with my minions who will be going quality work on the project. I have been at the airport before, so know where the car rental office is, so after leaving the pane I rush through the baggage hall and down the passageway to the office. There is no queue.

I find I have seven reservations for that afternoon; did I want them to cancel six of them? Yes, I think so. I am offered three different cars, but choose the Audi A4 of course.

After programming the sat nav, I take the ring road to the motorway, where they seem to be rebuilding half of it, and so with only two lanes in each direction, it is clogged with traffic, and the air thick with dust and noise from the work. Anyway, I have all the windows open anyway, as it is so hot, and I am recovering from my worse allergy attack in about seven months, so need fresh air.

I turn off the motorway, and onto another one heading north. This is much quieter, and once out of the city there is no speed limits, and so cars rush by me at stupid speeds. I cruise along at 110 kmh, no really I do. I have the windows still open, and so the noise would be so loud going any faster. The man at the rental office said the drive up to Husum would be dull and nothing to see. But as ever, there was; rilling farmland, a massive canal and other Germanic stuff, all neat and in their place.

Once the motorway runs out, wind turbines spring up so thickly its like a forest; most are ours, or our parent company's anyway. The sky begins to darken and has a red tint to it. At least it is a little cooler. The final stretch is over marshland, like a Germanic Norfolk, don't ask, but is nice enough.

The town is small and neat, I follow the instructions to the hotel, but I pass the minions just near to it, and they tell me they are off for dinner. They will wait for me, their leader. Which is nice, but then they know I have to pay for dinner.

We walk down through the market square and down onto the harbour, which is lines with merchant hosues, each now with either a bar or restaurant inside. We choose one with a table on the cobbled streets, order beers and meat-based meals.

I had grillteller and frites, which was very nice and filling. Lots of meat anyway. The others have pizza, and we all have another beer.

The day fades, and I have to check in the hotel. I found out it has no air conditioning, so the corridors and passageways are like ovens, and I am sweating heavily by the time I get to my room. Phew.

Here i am, working, beside the seaside again.