Thursday 30th March 2017

Thursday. And day to go home. Only looking at my Outlook calendar, there are meetings through until after one. I will be late leaving for home it seems.

I have a shower, dress and then pack. I had a crap night's sleep; awake at four, my brain deciding it was time time to wake up. So my mind went into cartwheels and nosespins about nothing in particular. I even got up to put the radio on, listened to two editions of Mark Steel's in Town. A quarter to six, I I began to drop off, in time to get up, of course.

I have breakfast, meet up with Jimmy again. Good to have someone to talk to, even if its work we chat about. He is enthused as things have gone well for him, I smile.

I drive to work, and once again through almost deserted streets, round the two big roundabouts to the office, and then get down to work, before the meetings start. THere are things like real work I could be doing, but, meetings, you know, have to happen.

Matt cooks lunch, and its so warm outside that we can sit in the smoker's area to eat. There are no tabbers about, so we eat our grilled bratties and friks al fresco and think, despite of the chaos on the computer, how luck we are to live like this. I can go at one, so go round saying goodbye to my friends, that there is another work grenade to deal with as I switch my computer off means I am in bad mood as I drive away from site.

Outside it is 21 degrees and getting warmer. It is a spring day, hazy sunshine falls through the light mist as I drive beside the canal on the way out of town. Soon the road criss-crosses over the canal a few time, via small bridges, with the window down I can hear birds singing. Life is good. It really is.

Traffic on the motorway is not too bad, so I can power down it at the speed limit, hammering past slow moving lines of trucks, across the border into France and through Dunkirk. On either side I can see towns and villages, each with the spire of a church church being the highest building in the town. I wish I could just detour off to go and look. Maybe I will do one trip. But those trips are running out. There are just 5 weeks to go before our vacation in Scotland, maybe one or two trips when I come home, and then that's it.

I began this project in September 2015, and traveled across Europe until the end of that year, then more serious preparation as manufacturing began. And then, in September 2016, the first trip to Oostende; a long and hot summer's day, Rune and I sat in a bar on the promenade sipping ice cold beers thinking how lucky we were.

The project has continued through that autumn, into winter, and now spring is here, it is nearing the end. 19 months for me in all. THe boy did OK, methinks.

Traffic is heavy around Calais, I have to slow to about 90 kmh, and it is not pleasant, but I am nearly at the tunnel, just a few miles to go. As if to prove it, the DAB radio wakes up and Radcliffe and Maconie blasts out.

I check in, and all is going well until I get to customs: do you have any tobacco? I am asked. Well, I had got some for the inlaws, and had pushed he limits. So I said yes, and was told to go over to the inspection area. A lady comes out, annoyed that she had not been told I was coming, but nice enough to me. She asked how much I had, and got confused and declared ten time the amount I had. She looked shocked, then I corrected myself. So, please empty the boot. So I do.

She checks the tobacco, and all is OK. I am asked why I was in Belgium, how long I had been away. And that was it. Allowed to go.

Phew.

So I load the car back up and drive to the lounge, but I just want to get home and not bother about a meal. So I go to the waiting area and wait. I take a shot for shot fo the day, and wait some more. Ten minutes later we're allowed onto the train, and just have to wait some more until loading is complete, the train secured and we can go.

I have a book to read, so time flies, I look up as I finish the book as we exit the tunnel in Folkestone. Back in Blighty.

Off the train, onto the road and onto the off ramp to Folkestone, then onto the motorway before turning off down the Old Folkestone Road into town, past the castle, turning down Reach Road along the cliffs and home.

I have to unload the car, feed the cats and only then can I make a brew, taking my tea and the biscuits to the patio to soak up the sunshine while i read the latest Rail magazine.

I survey the garden, noting all the changes in the four days I have been away, Many plants have grown more, but sadly the Imperialis are starting to fade already. How quickly their time passes.

Jools has got out a bag of chili for dinner; just needs warming through and rice cooked. I open a beer as I tell myself I deserve it. I mean it this time.

Jools comes home as the rice is done, so I can dish up. We eat, talk and toast each other, and the fact the weekend is just a day away.