Back in the old town. Again.
Aarhus is a fine old city, lots of interesting buildings, bars, restaurants, parks, zoos, but it does have a traffic problem. But then what city doesn't? I say this as I have to leave the office early enough to beat rush hour and to get a parking spot at the office.
I spring out of bed, have a shower and am dressed, going down to breakfast at seven, where I find several colleagues from Warrington already there, so I join them and we swap news and gossip, and the big news is my former boss and hard taskmaster, Philip, is retiring, and would they be in the office for his last day on Friday?
I have a couple of rolls with home made chocolate spread in them, as there was no fruit or cereal. I would have to find fibre elsewhere during the day, and so thoughts turned to dinner and maybe the Smokehouse and ribs and corn? Sounds like a plan.
We all depart in separate cars, as they are leaving on different planes through the day, and I am here until tomorrow. I turn onto the main road with no problem, but then after turning down by the Art Museum, where the road narrows to one lane; traffic jam. And traffic jam in pouring rain. We inch forward past the road works, then two sets of traffic lights, and suddenly no more traffic.
I cruise up to the main road, then along to Randersvej, and from there past the hospital to the offices where there were hundreds of parking spaces still, so I select one, reverse in and walk to the office building, where my colleagues were already there, working or having breakfast.
Many of them were with the company when I joined in 2010, or I trained them when they joined, all are now my friends as well as colleagues. What would I like for my tenth anniversary present? I have everything I want. But its company policy. OK< a bottle of wine. That'd be one heck of a bottle of wine! What do you mean? Well, we have to spend 500DKK.
Oh I see.
Can the money be put towards an event we can all attend?
Maybe.
So, I set a date when I would go over to receive yet more cards and cut and eat cake.
In Denmark, everything is celebrated with cake. Even Thursdays.
On to work, then meetings, then more work, then an audit workshop in the afternoon. Yes, audit workshop. Auditors talking about audits! We know how to rock!
And we talk for three and a half hours about audits.
It was then time for them to go home. We we all say goodbye, hug, and then they are gone, and there is just Henrik and I left in the office, working away.
I had little to do, but kept busy, as leaving before five would mean just sitting in endless traffic, but after five it was pretty clear.
I leave at ten past five, drive back into the city, alongside the tramtracks then down through the university quarter, past the art museum and into the hotel car park.
I am walking across the lobby when my old mate Shaggy Shags arrives; I have some contraband form Blighty for him: tea bags, Bovril and Marmite, and he has been in exchange for me.
We go up to my room to do the exchange, then back down to the hotel bar to try the silly strong beer I had for dinner the previous evening.
He also liked it, and the small bottle had his head spinning too.
Outside it was raining hard, so we scarper down to the Memphis Smokehouse and take a table in the corner. I had not eaten since breakfast, so ordered a large rack of Memphis Ribs, fries and buttered corn with bacon.
And beer.
We chat until the food comes, and then we make our ribs and fixings vanish. Man, that was good ribs. An American smokehouse in Aarhus, run by ann American who knows his bbq.
Lovely.
Once we had eaten we walk along the canal to the Highlander and I let Shaggy buy me a Christmas La Chouffe, N'Ice Chouffe, and it is pretty damn good beer.
But the evening had slipped through our fingers, he had to be up early to drive to Copenhagen for a concert, and I had to drive to the airport at six, so we walk back into town, then hug each other farewell as he walked to the station, and I went back to the hotel.All done.
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