Wednesday 25th January 2017

I suppose work is mundane most of the time. Even in the RAF, most of the time it was mostly mundane. Count fuses, issues ammunition, clear the firebreaks, deliver the missiles. Sounds exciting, most of the time we sat around drinking tea, or play cricket or bodgeball somewhere where the SNCOs couldn't find us. Or so we thought. When I am in Esbjerg, I do pretty much the same thing I do when I am at home or in Oostende; read and snswer mails, review documentation and file things away on sharepoint. The only difference is the view out of the window.

And that is the truth.

Anyway; Wednesday, last day of the short trip to Denmark, so I set the alarm for half six, have a shower and get dressed. The breakfast room was crowded, but there are two colleagues from another project, so we sit at the same table and chat about turbines. As you do.

I drive to the office, and some wanker has taken my desk. Bastard. So I steal someone else's, which is what happens. I don't have a desk, per se, just I usually nab the desk in the spare office, but not today. And then, the usual stuff (see above).

After the 25th coffee of the morning, I go out with Brian to look at our lovely turbines, all ready to be loaded onto the vessel next week. The blades look great, stored on facks close to the ground. And standing at the tip it looks like thy go on forever. I take a shot. Ot two.

Elsewhere, I can see that we are running out of turbine components, over half are now offshore, amazing to see how far we have come.

I hear that Butchers now do lunches: steak at midday seems a bit over the top, but burgers were mentioned, and as I seem to have caught up with work, why not? I take a colleague with me, driving to the restaurant. Sadly, a large part had just sat down before us, which mean we are waiting ages to order food, then for it to come. I have ceasar salad, which comes in a dish as big as a bathtub. There are rolls, fries and garlic bread. I won't need any of those things.

We are late for the afternoon work, so rush back and he gets working, and I go back to the office to check mails.

Cake! is the cry, there is cake. Cake, you say? I say. I go and they lied. There are 5 cakes. And all lovely and sweet and very bad. So good. Cake on top of huge salad means I should not need to eat until tomorrow at least.

I go back to the hotel at four, put the radio on then sleep for nearly two hours, something I would regret later. But after another shower I think I should go for dinner. I should have walked to Dronning Louise, but it is cold outside, and they do burgers in the hotel. So, I find myself being shown to a table, the waitress is trying to tell me the special for the day, but I want burger. With cheese. With onion rings.

Which I do, and it is bad and yet wonderfully good.

Back in my room I find there is League Cup football to watch, and I am riveted to it so have to see if Southampton can knock Liverpool out. They go and score a winner in the last minute. Anfield went silent, then the fans filed out, all over for another year. And with it being nearly eleven, time for bed, as tomorrow, I will try to get home.