Sunday 12th January 2020

Dateline: Meadowhall, Sheffield.

Sunday morning, quarter to seven.

I wake up, partially refreshed, and eager to start my journey home. So I get up, get dressed and pack, checking round the room for any left behind items, then down for breakfast.

I had barely eaten in 24 hours, certainly not a meal, as such, just a burger, a sausage roll and some cheddar bites, so, surprising I wasn't more hungry. But then food entered my mouth, fruit at first, and my stomach lept for joy.

I followed fruit with sausages, bacon and hash browns. And coffee. I mean I could have had more, but that would do. I hoped to be home in four hours, in time for lunch.

I load the car, find my way out of the car park, then back to the motorway junction, point the car south and press down on the accelerator. Off I went, into the light of the imminent dawn.

I cruised at 70 on a near deserted motorway. Through Sheffield, Nottingham. The sun rose, and I found myself driving into the light of the sun, its glare reflecting off the damp road making my eyes hurt. But not even that was going to slow me down.

The sat nav told me to stay on the M1 to London, but I knew better. I turn onto the A14 heading towards Cambridge, as this would cut a huge swathe of the M25 out once I was near London. The sat nav did not agree. It kept telling me to turn round or get back to the motorway. I carry on cruising into the new day.

There is a new junction where the A14 goes over the A1. Confusing for a while as it was the first time I had travelled on the new link road, doubly so for the sat nav as it told me we were doing seventy in a field. Anything is possible I suppose.

I had Radcliffe and Maconie on the wireless, so the trip flew by, at least until their show ended at ten, but by then I was south of Cambridge, back on familiar roads. Traffic was a little heavier, but not so bad, and driving was a real pleasure as the Golf ate up the miles.

And then round London, over the Thames and into Kent, where the sat nav wanted me to go down the A2, and I went down the M20. It kept wanting me to turn off, but I kept on going, until I reached Folkestone at which point it accepted that this was the way I was going and that my half hour trip to home was better than its 57 minutes via Faversham.

Back into Dover to drop the car off at the port, I call Jools to meet me there, meaning I dd not have to drop the car off later or on Monday.

And back home for a well deserved brew, then lunch with another brew. No beer or wine! I think in all honesty I had drunk enough. Then again, as Jools had a rack of lamb for dinner, best put a bottle of pink fizz in the fridge.

We chat all afternoon, catching up on the week, or 6 days, we were apart. Then once we had agreed that normality had been achieved, she went upstairs to do some beading, and I went to the sofa to watch more football.

The South Wales Derby, then the bottom of the table six-pointer between Bournemouth and Watford, which Watford easily won. Any result would have been bad for City, a draw the least worse option, so this is not good, but we know it was always going to be a fight.

I start preparing dinner as I dodn't think the Villa v Citeh game would be up to much. I was half right, as Citeh were 4-0 up at half time and ran out easy 6-1 winners. By then the lamb was cooked, the veg steamed and a cheese and paprika sauce was whisked up for the veg instead of gravy. Jools opened the wine and here we are again.

The case is emptied, I go for a shower and looking at the clock I see it is eight already, and the weekend is gone, yet I had been home only a few hours.