Tuesday 26th September 2017

Ian's on the road again.

By the way, I really wanted to like On the Road. I really did. But I found it frustrating the way it jumped about, would love it to have had more details of being on the road. Don't get me started on The Catcher in the Rye....

Hope that didn't offend... Really.

Anyway am up at half five, and it is still very much night time. I get up and get dressed, seems the right thing to do. We both have to be ready to leave the house at quarter to seven so I can make it to the station, so we divvy up tasks, washing up, feeding the cats and last minute checks. And we're ready to leave on time, with me just carrying everything in a rucksack, let's hope I have everything.

I am only going to be away for about 36 hours, but still, you know, away. However, there will be an upside, or two, as you will find out in a while.

Jools drops me off at Martin Mill, leaving me time to buy my ticket and engage the lady in the ticket office in small talk. I was going to buy a return ticket in case there was issues with the hire car when I arrived back in London tomorrow, but instead of the 10p difference, it was £40. So I just have a single and hope for the best.

On the platform it is dawn, there is a light mist in the air, and there are plenty of other passengers waiting, so much so that I struggle to get the seat I want, or at least on the correct (for me) side of the train. And we are off. And by the time we leave Folkestone West, there were people standing. I have not seen trains in this route so busy this early in the journey. And despite many people getting off at Ashford, people are standing all down our carriage, and I close my eyes as we zoom north.

When I do have my eyes open, I see that many trees are already turning from green to gold. It is very pleasant, even if we only get fleeting glimpses of the scenes as we fly through the countryside at something close to 140mph. We don't break stride to stop at Ebbsfleet which explains why this service is so popular I guess.

Again I linger on the train once we arrive at St Pancras, but the platform and exit gates are still busy. Now, I have three hours, so what shall I do? I decide to walk over to King's Cross in the endless quest to see one of the new Hitachi units in service or on test. There are nothing but EMUs, 91s and 43s. I already have enough of those, so don't take a shot. But I do go into the square outside to sit for a while and watch the busy world go by, hurrying to work.

I think that I might go to Baker Street, have a wander round the back streets and take some shots. Which is what I do. Down into the underground station, onto the Metropolitan Line along the oldest stretch of underground railway int he world, getting out at the world famous Baker Street. I was light in my head and dead on my feet. But with the sun breaking through the mist, it was a wonderful morning to be about with a camera.

Although the busy streets can be interesting, I walk towards the trees of Regent's Park, crossing the main road at Clarence Gate, and as soon as I walked through the gate to the park, the noise of the busy city faded away. I had chosen wisely.

Along the wide walkway past the ornamental lake, ducks and geese were snoozing, waiting for people to bring them food. There was no breath of air, so there were perfect reflections in the surface of the water, making for fine snaps, especially as a pair of swans went across the lake, disturbing the perfect reflections.

I pause for coffee and cake at the cafe beside the lake. The two girls who are working there are fed up with work already, but there are worse places to work than in a royal park, when there are next to no customers. I sit outside near a table with four policemen and women sitting round. They are enjoying the day, but have to wear stabvests and the usual tools of their trade. A long way from a bobby with just a truncheon for company.

I walk back to the tube station, and look along Euston Road; it is clogged with traffic, I feel so sad that most of us spend our days stuck in cities or traveling around them. It is half ten, and time to head to Heathrow, so go down and catch a Circle Line train to Paddington, and once there go down the steps from the footbridge to catch an Express train that was just about to leave. Not that I was in a hurry, as I had no luggage to check in, just get a boarding pass and go through security.

There were no Hitachi trains along the Great Western line either, at the new depot just before Southall. But I do catch a glimpse of a steam engine at the West Coast depot; either Oliver Cromwell or Tornado or Flying Scotsman. It was green and smoking for sure, of that I can be sure. Soon we turn off the main line and enter the tunnel to the station, with me gettign off at the very end of the line, the British Airways terminal, 5. Up the lift to the departure hall, get my boarding pass, and through security in 5 minutes, then walk past all the shops until I was attracted by Dixons and had me wondering if they had the new 6D mkII. Turns out they did, and would sir like to try it? He would. And what lens would you like to use? 50mm. Will the f1.2 be OK?

Like he was trying to lure me in. He was and had caught me. It works like a dream, but then drops the bombshell that there is a worldwide stock shortage as demand as been high, and didn't think they had one to sell. Just as well as I was ready to give him my credit card.

I go to the BA lounge as I feel the need for free found and high speed internet. I am not disappointed, and by midday fresh bowls of chilli and rice are being put out so we can help ourselves. A glass of wine? I think so. A bad idea as it turns out, as soon even after the one glass I feel snoozy indeed. At one, I make my way down to the gate and am one of the first allowed on board as I have the silver card. Though not for much longer though. And once on board, I close my eyes as the rest get on and stow their oversized cabin bags.

Oddly enough, as soon as we are in the air and having turned to the east, I close my eyes and sleep. The flight is only 80 minutes, so I must have slept for 40 minutes or so, but woke as we dropped through the clouds, feeling refreshed and excited about visiting a new city. I just had to find my way to the hotel which was "near" the main railway station.

Near.

But first I had to find the U-bahn station and get there, thankfully, there was a sign saying that all trains that depart stop at the hauptbahnhof. Which was good. The platform filled up, but once the train pulled in there was enough room for us all, and I got a seat facing the direction of travel.

We pass through a short tunnel, then into the suburbs, the line being lined with the ever=present graffiti. It is colourful I guess. More fencing is being put up which will soon be covered as soon as its installed.

Through many junctions and intersections until we rattle into the station, in the huge iron and glass trainshed, the way that European stations seem to do so well.

There is a wide overbridge giving views onto the tracks and platforms below. I tell myself I will stay for ten minutes.

Nearly an hour later I pull myself away from the passing trains and try to find the hotel. I walk out to the nearest exit and stumble into an Oktoberfest. That means beer and unhealthy food. And as I was thirsty, so I seek out a stall selling beer and treat myself to half a litre of fizzy German lager, which is OK to be honest.

But I cannot see my hotel, neither make out the street names. The beer does not help. I use the maps feature on the mobile phone, and in the end work out that I need to go back through the station, and if I was correct the hotel would be there.

And it is, and is posh, and here's me with my sweaty t shirt on. I check in and have a room on the top floor with views out over the city rooftops. It is fine, but I soon untidy the room by emptying my stuff all over the spare bed finding my computer lead. Sadly, the hotel has a very slow internet connect, mails take ten minutes to load, and I soon lose interest.

Kathrina, by boss on the project, has arrived and suggests that we meet for dinner. So I go down to the lobby, and after looking round the neighbourhood, we plump on an Italian place overlooking the square. Sadly, I am hungry and something with chips will only do, so I order schnitzel and fries, but a bottle of chianti, so part Italian meal. And it is good, and conversation is good, as she tells me about her home city, and things to see, if we were not working in the morning.

And back in my room, I follow the evenings games via the internet which does slightly speed uop as others go to bed, most surprisingly, there is no coverage of the CL on free to air TV and whatever is available in the room, so have two windows open on the computer so I could follow Norwich as well, and they win. Again. And have now gone 5 games, all of the month thus far, without conceeding a goal. A club record, and a happy return trip for the 428 brave souls who made the trip.