Monday 5th September 2016

On the night of the 23/24th December last year, East Kent was hit by a storm; nothing unusual in that. Other than it took away about 2m vertical height of the beach. This exposed the foundations of the sea wall, and so undermined it and so closed the railway that ran along the top of it. We walked along the beach on the 27th, and huge cracks could be seen in the concrete of the wall. We were warned about the danger it collapsing, and indeed later that week the beach was closed to the public and has not been open since.

In the intervening eight months, the wall was assessed, options discussed, and in the end a viaduct with 130 pilings was driven through the old sea wall into the bed rock, then a viaduct built on top.

In the end the orange army cracked on and the line was due to reopen on Monday morning, some three months early. It was just like old times, being able to board the train at Martin Mill for the ride into Dover. But to add to the concern, a lorry drove into a bridge on Combe Valley Road closing the line for a time, and no news on whether it would reopen in time for Monday.

The alarm went off at quarter to five, and it was dark. So the year moves on. I am up and about, so is Jools, so we split the tasks; making coffee, breakfast, feeding the cats and so on. We did so well that we were all done by twenty to six, with more than ten minutes to kill before going down the hill to the station.

There are a few other cars waiting, all sitting in them waiting to see if the train arrives; that included the woman manning the ticket office. Jools and I go onto the platform to check the running board, and it ways the train was running. I buy my ticket from the machine, then wait. The rain that had been unexpectedly falling since before dawn was now letting up, meaning the decision to leave my jacket behind was a good one.

The train comes into view, so Jools makes her escape, and once the train had pulled in, I get a seat on the left hand side so I could see the new viaduct as went over it a few minutes on. Amazing that it had been nine months nearly since I caught this train, and the thrill as we left Guston tunnel and Dover laid out below is always good. The line meanders down the valley to Buckland, losing height all the time, until we join the Canterbury line and almost at sea level.

After leaving Dover and going through the Harbour Tunnel, round the bend into what was Dover Town Yard, the train accelerates, and soon we are passing by temporary offices, plant equipment, and at what felt like 70mph, we were over the viaduct and into Shakespeare Tunnel and gone. I had rattled a few shots off, but not being fully light they came out blurry, but are a record of things returning to normal.

On to Folkestone, Ashford, Ebbsfleet and under the Thames to Essex. All the familiar places, and at Stratford in just under an hour. Magic.

I have breakfast in the cafe on the station, they still remember my usual order, ad then sitting at the table overlooking the London-bound tracks, I switch on my phone to check on the weekend mails. No major issues, so I can enjoy breakfast before walking to the DLR station. Another train had broken down, and there was a delay of a few minutes; the train was packed once it did arrive, but I stood, and I would be sitting plenty as the day went on.

I check in, go through security then find a place to sit to call my boss and have a catch up, just in time to get the call for the flight.

I am in my usual seat of 8A, I settle in, but with drizzle still falling, there would be little to see once in the air. Anyway we take off from the west, climbing over the river and into the clouds before we reach Essex. Bye bye Engerlands.

Once over the sea, it clears and all the way to Denmark its a stunning clear day. As we drop onto final approach, we fly over the harbour at Esbjerg and I am aboe to rattle of a couple of shots with the new camera. The turbines look so small from up there.

I am given a Ford C-Max; big enough for seven, and there's just me and my overnight bag. But anyway, I don't complain. Its a splendid day, the sun is shining, twenty five degrees. So I open all the windows and put the hammer down. I reach the port in under an hour, drive to the compound and the turbines are indeed bigger than they looked from the plane!

There is work to be done, meet fols, get updates and the three hours go by quick, but I have achieved a lot.

he hotel is a five minute drive away. and unlike in years gone by, the car park is nearly empty now, so no worries about having a long walk back. I check in, grab a Coke and some peanuts, then go to my room to do some work, listen to the radio. I know I should have gone out for a walk, but I get bogged down, and in the end can't be bothered to walk to the square to Dronning Louise. So I stay and eat in the hotel, and after munching through a starter, my colleage Manu walks in, so I have someone to talk to and so Nigel Molesworth is forgotten about as we chat and drink beer.

The day is done, as so am I. The room is warm, and no matter what I do I can't make it cooler. Oh well.