Thursday 26th January 2017

I mention my allergy attacks to allow me to tack them, to maybe see some kind of pattern. I'm sure it gets boring, but in trying to find a pattern, maybe the trigger, I will be able to beat it once and for all.

As it was, as soon as I went to bed on Wednesday night, I felt my airways getting blocked, not as bad as some times, but enough to restrict my breathing, and mean that sleep would not come. And then my brain, which up to that point had said how tired it was, woke up, and went into overdrive. Midnight came and went, as did one. I took drigs, all the ones I had, but it made no difference. I suppose I did drop off for a while, maybe after one, or half past. But I was awake at quarter to five, quarter to four UK time.

My brain was awake, so best get up and ready for the journey back. I decide not to have a shower, as it was likely it was having a shower that caused the attack in the first place. I pack, get dressed and go down to check out. Its too early for breakfast, but as I have the key to the lounge now, I knew I could eat there.

Into the Beamer, loading the cases in the back, and out onto the quiet streets, making my way past the port and out to the start of the motorway.

I felt tired, my eyes itched, so I took it easy, but the car was eager to go faster, so i might have sped a little. But up the main road to Billund then to the airport, I made it in one piece and not felt unable to drive at all. Which was nice.

At the BA desk, there was a couple; now I hate to jump to conclusions, but a man in his late 60s with an oriental lady some 25 years his junior, maybe they met at work, and no via mail order. I don't know. I do know that they had so much luggage, and were arguing with the excess baggage they were being charged, and that when they got to London, they would have to collect their bags for the connecting flights. Ten minutes later they're still at it, finally checking in each chase, weighing at least 20kg each.

I finally get to check my bags in, but by that time there was a massive queue at security, so I go to the cafe and buy breakfast. Or the company does anyway, so I can sit and eat a roll whilst those on the way to the sun file through.

Any by the time I'm done, there is no queue, and I can put my stuff on the belt for the scanner, go through then go up to the lounge for more coffee. I can check mails, and generally while away the hour before going to board the plane.

Out on the pan it is cold, and the flight is pretty full, I have chosen a seat on the other side of the aircraft from usual so I can snap The Shard as we turn onto final approach, if we land from the west anayway. Tell me this is normal for people to do this?

As soon as I am in my seat, I close my eyes and sleep fitfully once we take off, clearing above the mist in the first few seconds of the flight, emerging into glorious early morning sunshine. I close my eyes, and am soon asleep, missing breakfast and coffee.

I wake to find us circling somewhere east of London. Down below there is a complete covering of low cloud or mist, right from horizon to horizon. NO chance of snaps then it seemed.

We go round and round, dropping lower and lower, and then begin to circle round south London, and still the ground was lost to sight. We turn, I guess at Crystal Palace and again at Battersea, the ngines change in tone, flaps are adjusted, and still no sign of the ground.

Landing gear is lowered, engine not increases higher and higher in tone. I hope the pilot is not about to fly us into Canary Wharf. And then I see the tops of the office buildings melt into view, we cross the river, fly over the Millennium Dome, back over the river and down onto the ground again.

A long walk down the terminal building to go through immigration, collect my case then walk through the main concourse to the DLR station, where a train for Stratford had just arrived, and I manage to squeeze on just as the doors closed. I wouldn't make the quarter to ten train, and would therefore have a 50 minute wait for the next one, but it felt good to me moving nearer home.

At Stratford, I go to the cafe for coffee and a bun. Cherry and coconut muffin. Coconut not my favourite food, but nice enough. But its cold in the concourse, and I felt it would be warmer down on the platform below, standing up. So I go down, hoping to see a passing Eurostar. But its quiet, nothing to see, just the train before mine, which was going along the Medway Valley line to Ramsgate.

My train arrives, and so sink into a seat at a table, finish reading WSC as we power through the tunnel towards Dagenham. Out into the murky light alongside the Thames, past the car plant, the abandoned and partly demolished industry, and the new small business units which count as industry these days. Under the river and into Kent.

The taxi is waiting for me, so I load my case itno the back, and I am taken home past the castle to the Deal road.

I am home, but have a stinking headache. I make a cuppa, have a sandwich, then take to the sofa, until it being so cold in the house, I go to bed. I put the heating on, but it takes 6 hours for the house to warm up.

We have huge bowls of soup for dinner once Jools comes home. It warms the cockles of our hearts.

There is TOTP from 1983, all Belle Stars and Men at Work, at least they seemed to be having a good time. I was 16 when this was first broadcast.