Wednesday 1st March 2017

I awoke at just before four, local time. Not sure why, a mix of indigestion caused by the steak and beer, the room too warm and maybe the start of an allergy attack. The allergy attack left me congested for an hour, and so unable to sleep, before fading away allowing me to doze maybe for an hour.

When I woke up, no allergies, but I felt like I had less than the required amount of sleep. In the bathroom I look at my reflection and see my bloodshot eyes squinting back at me. Urgh. I open the curtains and see dawn away in the east, and the skyline of the town, some of which are still lit up. I take a shot just to get the shot of the day out of the way quick.

I get dressed and go down for breakfast. At least fruit, yoghurt, stickbread with apricot jam and two cups of darn fine coffee meant I felt human again. The drive to the office was quiet again, arriving in the office before my minions allowing me to have the pick of desks.

And work.

It is a typical day, problems to solve, meetings to attend, mails to write. The usual. And in the middle the lunch club, gathered around the table, laden with bread, cooked meats and pickles. THe Danes among us ensure that there is a steady supply from the Motherland of the right sauces, bread and even butter, as nothing tastes the same in Belgium. I try to tell them that Belgium is quite good at some stuff and especially beer. This makes my Danish colleagues bristle that someone could beat them at anything. I do agree that Belgians have no idea what to do with bacon; cutting it into small chunks and not cooking it long enough are the worst crimes.

We finish at four, or I do. I have a plan to go back to the hotel for a two hour combat kip after a shower. But it seems the winter is when landlords revamp their properties, and in the room next door, they are drilling holes in the wall by the sounds of it, and opposite there is a family with at least one screaming children.

I lay in bed and listen to the radio for an hour or so, before I have to get dressed to meet with friends at a Tex Mex place the other side of the road.

I get a call asking where I was, but I am dressed and down crossing the roads and in the place in time to order my first drink. There is seven of us, and we have a good time, but I am not the life and soul of the party, just wanting to eat and go back to bed. We share two massive platters of Mexican food and I follow it with a large burrito. Its good, but as always, eyes bigger than my belly. I leave half of it, but am full.

We bid each other farewell, as some are heading home in the morning, and I walk back over the road to the hotel to find the Citeh v Huddersfield game on TV. To show how tired I was, I watch the first 25 minutes of it and then switch it off, clean my teeth and go to bed.

Phew, rock and roll.