Friday 30th September 2016

I no longer sleep at the Zleep, the hotel beside the terminal at Billund. This because its not a good hotel, rooms are more like cabins, and the sound of aircraft keeps me awake.

I know who'd have thought it at an airport!

There is also the fact the terminal is the only place to eat at, and the kitchen closes at six, so arrive late you'll go hungry. So, staying an extra night in either Ahrus or Esbjerg means better sleep, better food, but a long drive to Billund.

At least from Esbjerg, that drive is under an hour, and along straight roads on which it easy to overtake on, if you get stuck behind a truck or bus.

So, the alarm goes off at quarter past five, giving me time to get dressed, wash and then check out. I suppose if I asked I would have been allowed to sneak into the breakfast room for a bite to eat, but I was still full from the BBQ the night before. I pay, then go outside where there is a nip in the air. I drive out of the car park, through the town centre and out onto the main road out. Traffic is light, and I drive in silence as I couldn't stand to hear any Europop or rock which seems to be all the radio picks up.

It is still dark, but with dawn spreading over from the east, its an easy drive, although overtaking on the long straights as I try to judge the distance to the oncoming lights. I get passed anyway, and by the time when I arrive at the airport, it is nearly daylight.

After dropping my bag off, I see there is a massive queue through security, but I know in quarter of an hour there will be none as those flying on the Danish budget airlines will be through and at the bar getting a Carlsberg or three. I walk to the cafe and get a cheese roll and a large coffee, and I manage to pour half a jug of cream into the coffee as the lid was stuck closed, then wasn't. I am covered in coffee creamer, but being early in the morning, it was not seen by many people.

I am the only one passing through security, and there are four people standing around waiting for the next customer, which is me. I pass through without incident, and upstairs, the Danes are making their way to board the carter flight, leaving behind empty beer glasses and scattered children's toys.

I check mails, speak to my boss, and generally wait for the flight to be called. It is, and so I walk down, have my passport checked and scanned, which happens every time I leave from here. So no open borders here either.

The flight is half full, I have a row to myself, but I sit on the other side of the plane, so I would get a different view, and I hoped that if we approached from the west there would be great views as we banked over The Shard. Sadly not this time, as there is a keen westerly blowing.

Breakfasts on flights such as this are being phased out, so I enjoy the roll and coffee as we fly over the Dutch coast. We have left the heavy rain and storms that caused much lurching of the plane as we took off, and in all directions, light fluffy clouds stretched to the horizon.

We edged closer to England, I saw the coast of East Anglia stretching away into the haze, I could see the arm of Orford Ness. We get nearer the coast, I see the mouth of the Orwell with both Felixstowe and Harwich on either side; we turn wouth and skirt the coast, flying over windfarms before crossing over Southend, Canvey Island and then along the river.

Down we go, swooping over the Dartford Crossing, over Ford's factory at Dagenham, the ground getting ever closer. We cross the river one more time, then with strong sheer winds, we touch down, and am back on solid ground. Back in Blighty.

I try not to look at my watch when I get back, otherwise I would stress about making a potential early train back home. So, I amble off the plane, go through immigration where my passport is scanned again. No open borders here either.

My case is waiting, so I take it and walk through the arrival hall and onto the DLR where a train to Stratford was due in less than two minutes. Still not looked at my watch.

As we leave Stratford for Stratford International, I look at my watch and I see if things go well I might make the earlier train. Oh damn you, hope!

As the train pulls in, I look at my watch, and I think I have less than a minute to catch the train home. But up on the concourse, the clock says it was only 09:41. And a bit.

I get through the gates and take the escalator down onto the platforms, and I see the train approaching. Swearing, I pick up the case and run down the steps, making it onto the platform as the train slows to a stop.

Made it.

I get on the train and walk up a few carriages until I find a seat that makes my approval, I put the case in the reach opposite and take my seat as the train accelerates out into the tunnel.

Essex and Kent were still sunny, I shade my eyes as once we left the tunnel, I am looking into the low sun shining brightly.

I order a taxi to meet me at Dover, so once that is done I can really relax and enjoy the view as Kent slides by outside, with me checking off the familiar landmarks.

A familar face in the taxi waves at me as I leave the station, I get some money out of the cash machine, then load the car with my case and he takes me up Jubilee Way to home. Driving over the rolling countryside, I get the same warm feeling inside as I think, we live here.

Clearly, the cats are not impressed with my return, as the house is empty and in the hour I am back, I see neither hide nor hair of them. Molly does come in, meows and allows me to tickle her belly. It is only later I discover the wren she had caught for me and left on the doorstep outside.

No time to relax, I have my travel expenses to do, and then log my working hours. This takes a couple of hours, and I am done just as Jools returns. The weekend has arrived.

Only, first, we have to go to the Eastern Docks to collect the car I need for next week's work in Belgium. A ferry had just docked and was disgorging it's cargo, so we made slow progress, but if I didn't get the car before six, I wouldn't get a car.

I have reams of paperwork to complete, that filled out, I am given the keys to a large Skoda estate, and with the port traffic quiet, I can drive home with no worries, back along the Deal road and up station road to home.

Now it's the weekend!

We have insalata caprese for dinner, of course, then we just sit on the sofa, stunned and tired. We both have had a hard week. Yes, really even me, and we are bushed. But we have tomorrow off, so we can stay up until after The Don has been on. Then, at half nine, with both of us trying to keep our eyes open, we go up to bed.

Phew, rock and roll.