Thursday 5th September 2019

Thursday. And time to go home.

And my flu had broken. But broken me at the same time.

I worked out I had gotten something like nine or so hours sleep, which was pretty good. But I now felt like I have been run over by a steamroller.

No time to waste, I have to get up, pack and check out. So, I struggle out of bed and begin my tasks. I am all done by five to six, going down in the lift to the lobby to settle the bill.

Have a safe trip.

I hope so.

I put my case in the back of the car, take off my coat, but I find it feels like November, so put the seat heater on when I get in.

I twas a clear morning, but the sun not yet up, but lightness was showing on the horizon. It would be a good drive.

Out onto the main street then turn west and head out of the city, onto the motorway and to the airport, heading in the opposite direction to rush hour traffic that was already building to stationary jams on the other carriageway.

I put my foot down, but there was no decent music to listen to, as the car had no DAB, so it was either news of an oldies station, and Huey Lewis just didn't cut it. So I drove in silence as the day got brighter and the sun rose.

Good morning, Denmark.

Summer is over in Denmark. The airport was pretty quiet, so I was able to check my case in, then make my way through security. The usual packed budget flights were half empty, and the usual debris of scattered Carlsberg glasses were missing.

I meet a colleague and we swap stories and news, before he boards his flight to Dusseldorf.

The flight to London was packed, but I had my usual seat, so slumped into it and realised I was hungry and thirsty. So was waiting for breakfast to be served once we were in the air.

I accept the roll, yoghurt and coffee. And more coffee. And the sugar rush from the jam really made me perk up. Perk up to close my eyes and snooze a little.

I open my eyes to find us flying dwon the Essex coast and then turn to follow the Thames, getting lower all the time.

Sadly, no approach from the west, just the run along the river, me pretending to drop a bouncing bomb onto the Dartford Bridge, then down and down onto the runway.

Home at last. Well, kinda.

And then the waiting.

Waiting as two of the gates are out of use, and we had to wait for ours to be cleared by the previous flight, then wait for the ground crew to be ready. Then once parked, we couldn't get off as the plane next door had started its engines and we would have been blown away. So we sit on the plane. Waiting and waiting.

We were let off, walk down the terminal to immigration, grab my case and walk to the station. But there was no rush as I had missed the early flight.

So, at Stratford I get a coffee from an Italian deli, as well as buy a linseed covered round loaf.

As you do.

I could have gone shopping, but I really want for nothing, so i drink my coffee then go onto the platform to wait for the train home.

I played with the idea of catching the train round the coast which would have taken two hours, but decide I was so tired, I just needed to get home.

Quick.

School holidays are over here too now, so the train is quiet and when I get to Dover, four taxis waiting. So, I take the first one, and I am spoken to by the driver about events. No, he is fair enough, and we have a laugh as he takes me home, dropping me off at the end of our street.

I was actually home.

The cats could not be bothered, but I was. I make a brew and put the radio on.

After lunch I log onto work, catch up with what has come in, and so am all ready to log off at four.

I make a batch of tomato sauce, so to make a ragu with the wild garlic sausages we had the in the freezer. And soon there was a pan of bubbling Italian loveliness.

Jools was doing yogo, so not back to half seven, so I find stuff to do until it was time to put the pasta on at seven.

She arrives back home, just as the pasta was done, I pour some onto the plate, then the ragu. Presentation is everything.

She pours wine, we toast, and talk and eat.

The radio plays, and it begins to get dark. Before eight. And is cold. Cold enough to go round closing all the windows, and think about putting the heating on.

And at nine, with the day gone, we go to bed. More rock and roll.