Tuesday 7th January 2020

Jelly’s on the road again, wearing different clothes again.

So it goes, so it goes.

Yes, into the second week of the year and time for the first trip; a monster drive from one end of England to the other. And a drive because I events have resolved themselves into a very interesting six day trip, with three stop overs in different cities.

So, exciting times. But first I had to pick up a hire car, and as my employer has instigated a new system for booking travel, you can never be sure that there will be a car or hotel booking for you. Or that’s how I feel anyway.

Jools dropped me off at the yacht club down on the prom at quarter past seven. It was a fine morning with clouds breaking towards the south and east with the rising sun turning the sky pink. Seagulls were on the wing, singing with joy at the coming day, and I had my camera so to record some scenes as I walked north towards the docks and the car hire office.

Lights of the ferry berths contrasted against the blue sky, so I snap that, as well as the windows of the houses along East Cliff as they reflected the coming dawn.

A very relaxing and tranquil start, but it wouldn’t last.

I walk to the car hire office, they open up, fire up the computer and wait for it to wake up and print my documents. I had a Golf, which would be fine for the long drive ahead. I drive back home to load up and have breakfast.

Last task before leaving was the program the sat nav: Barrow in Furness, six and three quarter hours away.

Eeeek!

I tune the radio to 6 Music, press the OK button on the sat nav and I head out of our street.

Up the M20 to Maidstone, then along the M26 and M25 round the south of London, past Heathrow to the M40 to Oxford. There were many routes to chose from, but I had it in my mind to go this way, as once off the orbital motorway, the roads should be clear for some while. That was the plan.

Traffic was unbelievably light, although it was a Tuesday, it was a working day, which meant I could cruise along to Heathrow, through the heavy traffic there then to the next junction, and turn off.

I was going this way, as the motorway to Oxford is know for being one of the best places to view Red Kites flying. |These are rare in Kent, but an introduction in Oxfordshire has seen them thrive. In total, I see nine circling over the road or just beside.

I am happy with that.

The road turned north towards Birmingham, clouds grew dark and steady rain began to fall. Never pleasant. I turn onto the toll road which misses the city, and with almost no other cars, could cruise very easily at seventy for half an hour, before rejoining the M6 north, in time for the twenty miles of roadworks.

I had been driving three hours and were still only at Stafford, not even halfway. So I press on.

I pass by Crewe, Warrington, Manchester, Preston, Wigan, Burnley, going north all the time, and once north of Preston, traffic thinned out further.

It was three when I turned off the motorway to cross the southern Lakes. Hidden in the low clouds were the tops of the fells, some might have been snow covered, but out of view.

The road twists and turns through Ulverston then up over the hills and down the other side into barrow. I drive past a long row of industrial units and small factories, then a large commercial area with drive through and big box stores before arriving at the hotel. There was no parking spaces.

There was one if you got the car as close to the one behind to the nose of your car didn’t overhang the pedestrian crossing. Which I did.

It was no dark, and raining.

At least the reservation was good, and the hotel being just 5 weeks old was sparkling, and my room, well appointed with a choice of pillows: soft and hard. So I chose both.

I make a brew, put on the radio and hear Steve Lamacq read out an e mail from me and play a record I requested. Which was nice.

I danced around the hotel room.

I get a call from my colleague that he had arrived too, and we should meet in the bar at half six. Which seemed like a good idea.

We do meet, have a drink, then take a table in the restaurant, order dinner while we chat about life, football and audits.

Once we ate, one more drink and we agree to meet the next morning at half seven before driving to the office.

Back in the room I listen to the Manc derby, just in time to hear Citeh drill holes through the United defence.

Oh, how I laughed…..