Tuesday 19th February 2019

Travel will be a major part of this year. At least until Brexit, and then we’ll see.

But most weeks will see me travelling, somewhere or another. Mostly here to Denmark for the first few months anyway.

So, Tuesday was the usual commute; up at half four, Martin Mill for six, train to London, then to LCY for the flight to Billund, and then drive to Esbjerg which is now my home from home through to July at least.

Anyway, we ave to peel ourselves out of bed, get dressed and do the usual things we have to in the morning, so I can be deposited at Martin Mill before six so I can get my ticket and be ready for the train.

And I am relieved that already there is blueness in the sky, dawn coming quickly, especially at the beginning of another fine day. Blackbirds were already out looking for food, and singing about it too.

And despite it being a school holiday week, there were plenty of folks waiting for the train, friends meeting up, catching up on the news from the weekend.

I slump into a seat once the train arrives, ready to enjoy seeing the countryside slip by, though it will be about 20 minutes before it would be light enough. Dover is in darkness, but the yellow lights from a few kitchens burned bright as people began their days, and the town was laid out around the valley as the train dropped to Buckland Junction for the run to Priory.

More people get on, but it is quieter than normal, I don’t have someone next to me until Ebbsfleet, and by then it is getting light, and the full moon is hanging in the sky away to the west, just floating like a huge balloon, getting paler minute by minute.

As we crossed into Essex, the sun rose in the east, and the scrapers in Canary Wharf catch the first rays of the sun, shining like a wizard’s palace, and me the only one looking who saw it. At least around me, as they all are either asleep or watching something on their phones.

In London I go straight to the airport, check in and drop my case off, get through security and go to have some breakfast. My waitress recognises me from two weeks ago, and asks how I am and where I was going and was it business.

I have salmon and scrambled eggs on toast, along with two coffees, and it costs twenty six quid, which is obscene really, but the company pays, and all because Stratford station is too cold for breakfast, and I hope to meet up with colleagues here. I don’t, so eat in silence then go to find a quiet corner to read and wait for the flight.

It is running half an hour late; more time to read and watch flights coming and going. And people watching. There are more families this week, obviously, and have the joy in their eyes about travelling that we business types have had beaten out of us from hundreds of meetings and webinars. I was flying to Legoland, but driving right by.

Anyway, the plane comes, we get on and arrange ourselves.

And we are away, into the air, banking to the north for that great look along the river and at The City, then over the north east suburbs, over the M25, into Essex, then over the coast at Orford Ness, with the coast stretching up to Lowestoft and the dark clouds covering Norfolk.

I decline breakfast. 2nd breakfast, and read more, finishing the magazine as the plane drops towards Billund. And Denmark is covered in clouds, we pass through torrential rain on final approach and again there is the hairy landing.

I get a car, load my case in the back and drive the 40 minutes to Esbjerg, along the same roads I have driven down for what, six years? I know every turn and bump, but see the changes as shops closed down, and houses built on fields.

I arrive at the office and site. Like I have never been away, and ready to do the dance again for the 3rd project, cut and thrust of meetings and the usual give and take. I also meet my new boss, an old colleague who has taken over, and wanted to say hi. She wanted honesty she said, so I gave her honesty. And truth. And why not?

Anyway, soon it is five, and time to drive to the hotel, just out of the port, down along the branch line to the old tower, then up the hill and along to the hotel where I bag a free space.

I check in, mess around for half an hour, then go walk to a new restaurant to meet up with two colleagues, Brian and Henrik for dinner and a chat. Its good when work becomes pleasure, though I am dragging them from their loved ones for the evening, so they punish me by ordering surf n turf, the surf turns out to be half a lobster!

It is very nice, we talk and laugh, and I reflect on how I have come to be here, nine years after thinking I was unemployable. Yet, here I am.

Henrik gives me a lift back to the hotel, getting me back in time so I can watch the Liverpool v Bayern game on TV, which turned out to be very enjoyable indeed, even if there was no goals. But I did only just manage to stay awake until the end.