Wednesday 1st February 2017

I failed to set my alarm which explained why I did not wake until nearly half seven. Should I go straight into work or have breakfast first? Well, being my own manager, I told myself to have breakfast. I think this comes from my old Air Force days when not having breakfast was a chargeable offence. Of course, I would have to charge myself, so instead I ordered myself to breakfast, and I obeyed.

And to my surprise, it was half full where before Christmas there would have just been myself and the old lady in the corner. I take a seat by the window, get a bowl of fruit and yoghurt and a coffee and sit to watch the world go by on the street down below.

THe drive to work was busier, but down to the fact I was an hour late. Anyway, I arrive safely, which is always good. A couple of weeks ago, a couple of techs from the project collided with a tram, I hope I won't make that mistake!

You know the pattern by now: mails, phone calls, meetings, lunch, mails, calls, meetings.

Outside it was a bright day, but windy, too windy to go offshore, so the offices were full. And I have four minions in the office. I say in the office, somehow they get the quality office and desks, whilst I have to hot desk with the HSE teams; not sure how that works, but hey.

For a change, lunch is stir fry and salad and noodles, instead of the cured meats, red sausage and cheese. But it works, we all sit round, people from several nations. We chat, laugh and make fun of each other, whilst eating. This is what makes the job good, any job good; people. And I feel so lucky to be doing this, even if I am away from home.

We finish for the day at half four; and it is still light, meaning the drive back to the hotel would be easier and less dangerous, as it is possible to see errant pedestrians and cyclists as they approach crossings without stopping.

The hotel has been refurbished, and has some new artwork hung on the walls, which can be bought in the shop next door. They have a series of great clocks that have what looks like a wordsearch instead of a face, and the numbers hidden in the grid illuminate to tell the time. They look great, and I really want the English one. So I go to the shop and have a look round, and find the clocks are €1100 each. Words fail me. Anyway, they have some plastic figures by Ottmar Horl, one a bright red meercat. I buy that, thinking it will look great on the kitchen windowsill catching the early morning sunlight.

At half six, I walk to Den Artiest to meet up with the guys, the heavens had opened, and rain fell in torrents, meaning I had to wear by bright yellow work coat, as its the only waterproof one I had. We go inside and the eight of us crowd round a table and as usual have bbq'd meat and frites and beer. Simple food, but well cooked and welcome. There is more laughing, joking, but with added drinking.

Afterwards, with the rain having eased off, we walk back up the street of bars, and the minions saying they wanted to go to a bar. I could have gone, but decide against it, and go to the hotel instead. A winse choice as it turned out.