Friday 9th February 2018

As you may remember, I left the last post climbing onto bed at the Hotel Propellen in Billund. This is to make sure I had a short and fog-free trip to the airport in the morning of something less than 5 minutes. THis also meant I had an extra hour in bed, meaning I could set the alarm for a little after six. Heck, probably half past or quarter to seven would have been OK.

I get dressed and go to the breakfast bar, through two restaurant rooms and past the oriental guy doing the vacuuming. I have a fresh roll with bacon. A breakfast of champions, along with a bowl of bran flakes and coffee. Always coffee. Back to the room to pack, I had paid the bill the evening before, so all I had to do was drop the keys off on the way to the car.

I scrape the windscreen, but the heater on full and drive past the entrance to Legoland, past the half dozen empty car parks to the airport entrance, dropping the car off at the parking lot.

I walk quickly to the terminal, drop the car keys off, check in quickly as there was no line, go to security where there also was no line. I was congratulating myself at how clever I had been, not realising I had left my passport in one of the trays at security. I realised about 30 seconds later, and after trying to walk down the up escalator, I go to the top, rattle down the steps and find it and my boarding card still there.

But I am reunited with them, go up through the duty free shop; could I be tempted by a glass or run, I was asked. At seven in the morning? I think not, thanks. But don't let me stop you.

As I have no key to the lounge, I find a table underneath it and use the free wifi I still have the password to.

And so the hour passes, and I can then walk to the gate where we wait some more. Outside the sun rises as does a think mist. It looks stunning, but I think I was the only one to notice.

We can board, and like most times I am the last to go through to the gate, walking down the steps to the pan, pausing to take a shot of the plane with the rising sun behind. I take my seat in 7A, yes, that's right, and so have a limited view because of the engine hanging from the wing.

Anyway, once in the air, there is mist covering the ground, so nothing much to see, so I read my book, declining breakfast and passing the 100 minute flight in the world of rock stars and stories of their life changing day.

The pilot tells us it is raining in London. And we find Blighty shrouded in cloud, we drop down through layers of dark cloud, rain lashes the plans, and there is no sign of the ground. We emerge from the clouds over Grays and the Dartford bridge, getting lower. Side winds makes the plane sway, but the pilot does well, and we touch down. It is nine in the morning.

But we have to wait ten minutes for the ground crew to get the large hand luggage out, and as we were parked at gate ten, a walk along the whole length of the terminal to immigration. Even with my bag waiting, I guessed I wasn't going to make the quarter to ten train, doubly so as I had to wait 6 minutes for a train to Stratford.

In the end the train arrives at 09:44, and had I had run up the escalator and over the main road, through the station, down the escalator, I might just have made it. As it was, when I got to the station I heard the bleep bleep as the doors on the train opened on the platform below, I could have tried, but had I not made it, I would have been stuck on the platform for an hour. So I amble to the cafe and have second breakfast, read some more and generally chill out.

I pop into the shopping centre, buy what I think is a nice loaf of seeded bread, but when the seller takes it out, it is only about four inch square for four quid! Still, looked nice, so I thought, why not?

Time to go down to the platform, in time to see a Eurostar hammer through at 150mph, and impressive sight as it climbs out of the tunnel and takes the middle road of the down lines. I take a shot, because I could. My train pulls in, I pull the case on board, stow in in a rack and take my seat. Too tired to read, I allow the scenery to slide through my field of vision once we are out of the tunnel. Rain falls gently, but I am happy, nearly home.

The taxi is waiting for me, ready to whisk me home. The driver knows me now, and asks about my week and weather. Its a nice moment.

Molly is waiting for me, looking fuller figured and happy. So once inside I give her another packet of food, unpack and make a brew.

Jool comes home at three, takes Scully tot eh vet for her jabs, but Mulder did a vanishing act, so he will have to go next week. Of course, he turns up a few minutes after Jools had left. Meow he says.

I go to do a session on the cross trainer. Its not easy, I would have been happy to laze on the sofa, but I did an half hour, puffing away to Fleetwood Mac. But I'd rather jack, of course.

Jools comes home, whilst she does phys, I feed the cats then prepare chorizo hash.

We round the evening off watching Only Connect, and somehow the evening had gone. But tomorrow it am the weekend.

We have lots to celebrate, not less the fact we have refinanced the house and might be mortgage free in a maximum of eight years. Now that would be something.