Friday 23rd March 2018

Friday morning, and time to go home. Always a pleasant feeling to wake up with the alarm and think in less than three hours I would be taking off into the wide blue yonder.

I have to pack, try to remember everything. I had finished Jon's orchid book the night before, so with little to read now, but for the first part of the journey I would be driving, if I could find something to listen to on the drive to Billund.

Checking out is painless, well, once the computer system wakes up, and after loading the car the guy on reception opens the gate and I swing out pas the gas station and wait at the lights to take me onto the main road. I had found a "classic" station which was pumping out Abba hits. Could be worse.

It was already getting light, which seems to make the drive less fraught, driving out of the city and onto the motorway before dealing with the new sets of roadworks. I have loads of time, so no need to speed. No need at all.

Despite it being the end of March, there is little sign of spring in Denmark; the grass and land is all earth tones of old growth. I hoped to see a daffodil or something to brighten the way, but saw nothing. The banks that in a few months will be blue, white and purple with wild lupins are now just stunted grass.

At Billund it was oddly quiet; no lines of cars waiting to disgorge passengers. Not one in fact. After dropping the car off at the lot, walking back to the terminal in the frosty air, there was no queue at the BA desk, so I drop my case off quick, a few people were waiting at security, but probably the departure hall would be packed, so I take breakfast at the bistro; just a nutella roll and a coffee. Enough to tide me over as there would be another roll to be had on the plane.

By the time I had eaten, there was no queue at security, I go straight through, and upstairs there are couples and families all excited waiting for their flights to somewhere warmer and much further south. Most are eating their own food, some are quaffing from half litre glasses of beer. Everyone is smiling. I set up my computer underneath the lounge and leach off their high speed wifi as I still have the code. And get some work done.

THe flight is called, so I amble down to the gate, and find it will be full, mainly of Danes using the flight to link up with later flights to the US and beyond. I am just going home.

I am the last on the plane, I mean we all have our seats allocated, so what's the rush? Beats me.

I am in the usual 8A, settle down with the inflight magazine and my camera near to hand in case I see something interesting. But once in the air, I find my eyes getting heavy, and so snooze through most of the flight, my drooping head snapping me back to the waking world, only for the process to start again.

The pilot announces that we have left cruising height, and will be on the ground in 20 minutes, he ran through the conditions, and with the wind in the west, I knew it would be the short approach from the east over Dartford. Oh well.

Even then the cloud was so low, we did not see the ground until we were over Dartford, so I snap the bridge just because I can. The Danes are excited to be over London, and are eagerly looking out of windows both sides to see something they might recognise. Yes, there is Belmarsh Prison guys....

We are down, and looking at my watch, I see I have half an hour to get to Stratford for the earlier train, not enough time as we wait for the baggage handlers to come and unload the aircraft and a bus to take us to the terminal.

I reach Stratford 6 minutes after the train had left, so may as well go for 3rd breakfast in the cafe; sausage roll and a gingerbread latte. I can watch people rushing around, while I take is real easy.

I buy a book from Foyle's, so think i will go onto the platform to read and watch the Eurostars go by. But down on the platform there are dozens of people milling around, with signs saying that due to power supply problems trains were running late.

At quarter past ten, the ten fifteen train out of St Pancras crawls in. It had taken 5 minutes to get from the point we first saw it and come into the station. We squeeze on, and the train inches out. I read my book, so after this timings get a bit misty, but I think about an hour later we reach Ashford, and find a train to Dover waiting, but no drover, as the delays have staff in the wrong places.

So, I go to sit on the train and wait, read some more. A train from Dover pull in at about quarter to one, and a driver gets off, walks to the front of our train, and in a few minutes, we are off.

I am back home at just before two, the cats are quite pleased to see me: food?

I have a brew and then, gird my loins for a session on the cross trainer. I really didn't want to, but get it done. Do half an hour to a David Bowie soundtrack. And then get back to work, sending some important and not so important mails. And then, set the out of office message come half four, and so begins four days off. Yee, and indeed, ha.

Jools is back home too, we have insalata for dinner. I make some three cheese potato bread, all made with stuff found at the bottom of the empty fridge, and for what amounts to leftovers, it was pretty darn good.

There is no league football this weekend, but there is international games, and England were playing Holland in Amsterdam. But sadly, someone replaced the England team, as they played with assurance, passion, accuracy. The fought hard to win the few lost passes back. In short they were best all over the park, only drawback was they scored just the one goal, but that was enough to win in Holland for the first time in 49 years.