Thursday 10th January 2019

I wake up in the same room the hotel gives me, number 22, my clothes and belongings are strewn across the other half of the double bed and the floor of the room. Just like the old days in the singly block in the RAF.

I get up, have a shower, look at the news online and still have twenty minutes before breakfast is served.

When I go down, the gas fitters are working their way through mounds of fried food. I could do the same, but have cereal with yogurt followed by toast, washed down with strong coffee. It works. My table faces the Solent so I can see a ferry approaching the island out of the gloom of an overcast morning. Welcome to the Isle of Wight out of season.

I get my work stuff together, program the sat nav to get me to the main road, then drive up the hill into town, past the school with children already making their way to it. I arrive 45 minutes early, so I wait for the others to come, sitting in the reception hall, sipping coffee and watching others arrive.

Five to nine, the other two attendees pitch up, so we go down to the meeting room, and let battle commence.

Three and a half hours in the morning, followed by a short break for lunch, then the factory tour with inspections. I sit at the end of the 89m blade while the others get suited and booted to go into the blade for some inspection action. I don't have confined space training, so I couldn't go anyway.

Come four, the day is done and this will be my last visit here for the project, so last trip to the island too. We all shake hands and thank each other for good work done.

I drive back to the hotel, I deal with the mails of the day, but then I am bushed so lay on the bed to read whilst the radio plays on the TV; modern world, eh?

It would have been easy to eat in the hotel again, but I needed to go out for a walk, so I dress up in several layers, put a wooly hand on, and set off along the well lit promenade for the centre of town.

Christmas decorations are down already, but the narrow high street is well let and pretty enough, so I take some shots as I look for a place to eat. Thing is, armed with my company credit card, I could eat almost anywhere, and anything; curry, Chinese, burger, steak, fish? All were on offer.

After walking to the end of the pedestrianised area, I double back to a nice curry house, the only one of the three curry houses that actually had customers, so I took this as a good sign it was better than the rest.

I end up having a dish called "delicious chicken" which sounded better than bland chicken. And it was good, it came with rice, and instead of a naan I had a chapati, which turned out to be a flat bread, and was less filling than a naan.

I walk back to the hotel, watching away in the distance as a huge liner, lit up like a Christmas tree, left Southampton and slid westwards out of the Solent. It looked like a floating town. I have no desire to travel on such a thing.

Back at the hotel it seems I have eaten well, so much so I lay back on the bed, reading more of the David Hepworth book with the radio on.

A typical day, then.....