Tuesday 13th September 2016

And a day in which I have no planned work until half three in the afternoon. My minions were on a course, I was not, and therefore, I was free, to, well, do whatever I wanted. To a point. I was still at work, and so after a poor night's sleep thanks to the sky high temperatures and humidity, I had a shower, went down for breakfast, then returned to my room to work on the computer until I heard the maid next door at about ten, so I then decided to stretch my legs some and go for a walk.

Outside it was like a furnace. All of north-west Europe has been baking this last week, and another day of sky-high temperatures was predicted. So, I walked to the main square where a few stalls selling fruit were set up, but lost in the size of the square. I walk on to the harbour, looking pretty as a picture at high tide, but not full of boats. I guess there were half a dozen, almost lost in the large dock, but still seems to be a working port.

I walk past the row of restaurants, over the main road to the railway line, stopping long enough to see a train pass through and grab a couple of shots. Then to the warehouses and grain stores, standing tall against the blue sky. They also seem to be in use, but just not today.

It is hot, so hot that I stop several times I as I walk along the road to the beach, or where I think the beach is. I stop just after the grain silo and see a flash of aquamarine blue: a kingfisher rose from the post at the bottom of the bank and flew into the reed beds. Wow, this was the first time I have ever seen one? I satand for half an hour, waiting for him to return, but he doesn't. I know they like to return to the same perch, but not this time.

I walk on, past the wood store and the row of barges used for refueling and then into the open countryside, looking for all the world like the marshes beyond Oulton church where I grew up. But on the left hand side was the canal, or river along which boats came in and out. And one was negotiating the lock, so I sit down to watch.

Time passes, it is half eleven and not getting any cooler. I decide that my life will not be poorer if I do not see the beach, so turn round to walk back into town, and to get a drink. I swear I was going to ask for water of a Coke, but the words bier came out. And the beer was good and ice cold. I order currywurst and fries to go along with the bier, and the world felt better.

I walk down the back streets, snapping some of the historic houses, but I know I need to go back to work in my room.

It was by now one in the afternoon, and the hottest part of the day began. I lay on the bed with the radio on and closed my eyes.

An hour past, maybe 90 minutes. I spring up, write some more mails, and was then ready for when the boys came back so we could have our meeting. The hotel supplied coffee, water and a room, so we sat down and talked things through, expectations and so on.

We finish at about seven, and walk into town to a brew haus that also did food. Beers, burgers, steaks and schaslik, at least not all for me. But we sit in the beer garden, among the locals and other tourists and have a fine time. Unlike the German couple on the next table for whom nothing was quite right, and the husband had a very sour face as he sipped his half pint.

The others were going to make a night of it, but I had to be up with the larks in the morning for the 90 minute drive back to the airport. I bid them farewell and leave them to the beer.