Friday 25th November 2016

30 shopping days to Christmas; just so you know.

Drinking on a school day is rarely clever, but doubly so when yo have to be up at five in the morning; and to make matters worse, I was worried I might oversleep so I was awake every hour checking the time.

I am up at five, check the news on the BBC, then pack and try to get all the beers I have been given or bought into the case in such a way they won't break on the flight home.

Downstairs i check out, but it is too early for breakfast by an hour, but anyway, now I have a card to get me into the business lounge at the airport now, so there will be rolls ad coffee there. And beer and wine.....

Needless to say, outside it is dark, and cold. I have to scrape the screen and other windows before I can leave, but there are few others out, so I can nudge out onto the main road without mowing down half a dozen cyclists. Out along the wide boulevard, past rows of three and for story blocks of flats, until the buildings thin, turning out onto the main road which leads directly to the motorway and south.

I wanted to get an early start, as once dawn comes, mist will rise making driving more dangerous. Even now there is mist, but not enough to slow me down, even at 130 once we clear city limits. Above us to the left hangs a sliver of silvery moon and the glowing point that is the planet Venus. It looks cold, so I put on the seat heater in the BMW. Lovely.

Down the motorway, past a few trucks and cars who are also heading south, most traffic is heading north as the rush hour traffic into Arhus is building already.

I turn off the motorway, stuck behind a truck that slows me down to the speed limit, which is probably just as well, really.

I arrive at the airport with mist swirling around, but at the same time I could hear an aircraft engine starting up. I get my stuff out the back of the car, and walk quickly to the terminal in the cold morning air. Away to the east, there is light in the sky.

After dropping the keys off into the office, I check in my case and see that the Danish rush to the sun is finally over, and there is no early morning queue for security. I am putting my laptop back in my bag when I am called from someone the other side of the room. Its my boss, waving at me. I act like I'm pleased to see him, I could invite him into the lounge upstairs, but his ticket already has given him a ticket to get inside.

Also inside the lounge is the project manager from another project I helped out, we shake hands, then can go ahnd help ourselves to coffee and Danish pastries. Proper Danish Pastries, made in Denmark.

The others leave for the Manchester flight, leaving me on me tod. So I celebrate by having another coffee and manage to resist having another pastry. Mainly because I would get breakfast if I was still hungry. Upon reflection I think probably would be.

The flight is called, and I amble down to gate 2, where there are less than ten others waiting. Even after a last minute rush of four young business types, the flight would not be full, even on a plane with less than 30 seats.

I strap myself in, and looking outside, indeed the mist has risen, and hangs just over the ground, and away to the west the moon sets.

Once in the air, I get fine views as mist has settled into the shallow river valleys that crss cross Jutland. I snap the scene as the rays of the rising sun cast long shadows from trees that poke through the mist. Almost makes the early start worthwhile.

Up and up we go, leaving the mist and morning rush hours behind, striking out over the sea and south towards Holland where the mist and fog lay thick there too, stopping at the coasts. Breakfast is served, which I accept along with a couple of cups of coffee. After eating, my eyes begin to drop, snoozing the last half an hour as we speed towards Blighty.

But we are held over the mouth of The Thames, circling round and round over The London Array, one time, two times, three times.

When we are allowed to proceed, at frst I thought we were going to fly over Thanet and then, hopefully down to St maggies, but the plane turns and follows the north Kent coast past Herne Bay and Whitstable before turning inland to fly over the southern suburbs, making for Crystal Palace where we would turn north towards Battersea where we would then turn east to follow the river before skipping over the rooftops of The City.

I snap away and get fine shots, but as we get lower and the towers of the modern City loom, the memory card in the camera decides its full, so I can't take any more shots, so just enjoy the sight of the East End and docklands as we drop to touch down at LCY. It is half nine, and I was going to miss the earlier train, so just enjoy the moment of being back home, get to Stratford, have a coffee and a sausage roll and watch people going about their business of the day, when mine was three quarter done.

After getting to Statford, that is what I do, sitting in my usual seat so I can watch the London-bound trains arrive, disgorge passengers going to start late or maybe some shopping on Black Friday, even if its not really a thing here in UK.

I go down to the platform to wait for the train to arrive, standing in the narrow rays of sunshine that the monstrous development that is blocking out the sky around the station. The train is more than half empty, so I can take my pick of the seats, but soon realise that due to the dirty windows and the low sun in the west that I would see nothing on the trip back. So, trying to block out the sound of the other passengers, as they listened to music loudly or talk on phones.

I had arranged to be picked up by a taxi from Dover, after a wait it turned up and he whisked me up Jubilee Way back home, all the while the sun shone down brightly. Home at last.

After paying the driver, I take myself and the bags to the back door, and surveyed the garden, now that the work was done, and all was peaceful. It was alps the weekend. Did I mention that already?

But before the weekend, I had work to do on the computer, so did that right away, sending grenades to all and sundry, and making plans for meetings next week.

Then I could stop, have a brew and some lunch.

Molly came into the house and meowed loudly, enough to make me believe she was happy I was home. Maybe she is, either way we take to the sofa to sit beside each other as I channel flick to see if there was abything worth watching. There wasn't.

But it was the weekend.

Jools comes home, we talk about the garden and what next then have a coffee.

We have fish and chips for dinner, a huge piece of battered fish for me, still crispy as it was freshly cooked. Nothing quite like it, really. Can you hear the sound of the batter snapping as I cut it with a knife? Lovely.

There is TOTP on TV, then Mastermind and finally cliff walks round Cornwall. And we are done, pooped, so call it a day.