Wednesday 9th March 2022

Seems like I missed a day out. Here it is.

Wednesday.

Up with the larks, have a shower, get dressed and down ready for breakfast when the place opened at half six.

Fruit and another bacon butty and some coffee, before going to the car and driving out into the fog. Yes, a real pea-souper had descended over night, and I could see just 50m ahead. But I knew the way, and being early, few pesky cyclists to avoid.

I make it onto the main road out of the city north, across the outer ring road, then second left, but instead of taking the first turning to our old offshore offices, second left to the new/old offices.

I use my swipe card to get in, climb the stairs to the first floor, but reception had failed to give me a code for the door, so I had to stand and wait for someone to let me in.

Today was my colleague, Henrik’s delayed 60th birthday celebration, so we had the afternoon in a conference room where five of us would be locked in the room with a cake made for 30.

The morning passes quietly, and at midday our manager rounds us up for lunch, and had booked our own table for the meal, but no champagne. We talked until after one, then repaired to the conference room, where a trolley with tea, coffee and cake for 30 was waiting.

Eddy makes a speech, the cake is cut and we take a slice and talk and talk. There’s not really enough of us, but its OK, and beats that thing called working.

I had arranged to meet a friend, another former colleague, at the hotel, so at quarter past four, I leave for the hotel, freshen up then wait in the lobby sipping a Coke hoping that Flemming remembered.

The good news is that he did, and he arrived at about quarter to five, and our old boss, Charlotte half an hour later.

We talk and talk, drink a beer, eat peanuts and talk more.

Charlotte announced she was hungry, and what was the plan. I said there was a tapas place a five minute walk away, so we set off for the main shopping area, down the cobbled street lined with bars and fast food joints. Its as though COVID had never happened.

They had a table in the window, we take it, and order three small plates each, and a beer, and continue talking. It was all rather wonderful.

Tapas is never bad, as long as you don’t order liver, and this was excellent, served with fine olive oil and lots of fresh bread.

Just before eight, I get a call from Shaggy, he had made it this time and was waiting in the hotel lobby. I pay the bill and walk back to the hotel, we part at the intersection outside the hotel; Flemming went to the station, Charlotte to her bar, and me to meet Shaggy.

He was drinking a Grimbergen, so I join him, and we talk for a couple of hours, until he has to drove back home.

That was a good afternoon and evening, and most of it counted as work. Apparently.

Up to my room, pooped again, and hopped into bed.