Tuesday 13th December 2016

And so to work.

And so to the tunnel. And Belgium. And Belgian beer.

I have the car, a Ford Focus ST Line sporty thing, which is wonderful to drive, as it is so responsive/ So, after getting up, having breakfast, I pack, get ready to leave. Just before loading the car, I get a call from my boss, questioning me on stuff, so my head in a tizz, I forget loads of things. I have nothing to read nor any money to sped. Such is the way.

But before I realise I am on my way to the tunnel, driving in thick hill fog, down into town and up Western Heights the other side, all in order to avoid the traffic along Townwall Street as a ferry had just arrived, and clogged the roads.

Driving to Folkestone was scary; thick mist, I slow down, and people are overtaking me at 70, 80 mph or faster. I arrive later, but in one piece. After checking in, I call in at the lounge to find a train is about to depart, and as I have to make a meeting at one, I go back to the car to board the train, not picking up lunch nor a copy of the FT.

I had more time than I thought, I join the line boarding the train, then once on board wait at least ten minutes until all cars were on.

The journey is as it always is' uneventful. The train glides out so smoothly, you don't know the train is moving until it goes round a curve. We enter the tunnel, the train accelerates, and we head down to go under the sea. I even make a couple of calls from the train, as there is wifi on the trains now, so undertake my first business meeting from below the seabed. At least I am impressed by this, and tell anyone I speak to that I am under the sea, and this meas that we are living in the future.

We arrive, and without fanfare the internal doors open, and one by one we file off, up the ramp, round the bed and onto the motorway, taking the route north. Traffic is heavy, and the weather misty, but I have to make the meeting, so press on.

It is no real pleasure this time, driving past long lines of trucks and having impatient cars tailgaiting as we all try to get on. Into Belgium, the traffic isn't so bad, and the weather lifts. And it means I will be in the office in time for lunch, which is nice.

And so to work.

Mails. Meetings. Mails. hone calls. Mails. All afternoon and into the evening. Until six when my brain gives up and I can't do any more so go to the hotel to check in, then meet Manu at seven so we can find somewhere to have dinner.

Somewhere is an Italian place near to the hotel. We decide we deserve a starter and a bottle of wine. Nice when we can do that.

Dinner is good, and as well as being full, we are both tired. I let Manu buy me a beer at the hotel, but I feel so full I can't finish it. So back up to my room to relax and follow the football via Twitter. And City win! and keep a clean sheet! Which is very nice. So at ten to eleven, I call it a night, and try to sleep.