Monday 20th June 2022

On the road again.

Despite being told all my time this year would be spent on the process project, so it came as a surprise to be asked to go to Holland to conduct an audit.

This would mean actual travel, and as it was Holland I felt that I could just about justify driving rather than flying and then driving. It helps living a 15 minute drive from the Tunner, or a five minute drive to the port, of course.

But I have got rather attached and used to working from home, where I do my thing and let my mind wander as it wants, sometimes cokking, sometimes walking, sometimes butterfly chasing in the garden and beyond.

But driving meant no airports, so no delays, and the possibility of duty free to be brought back.

I liked that idea.

This meant packing, and then Jools dropping me in town as she went to work, and me wandering around taking shots.

As usual.

But, I sat on a bench and watched the ferries come and go for half an hour rather than look for things to snap, in fact I just had the compact with me, but the warm sunshine felt good, and a dose of people watching.

The only cloud on the horizon was my credit card; would it be unblocked, and if it hadn't been cleared, what could I do?

So, come eight I walked over Townwall Street to the Enterprise lot, where they were expecting me.

Which is good.

Is the car OK to take out of the country?

No. And the process for that takes three days.

But, I'll make some calls.

And he did.

And got permission.

But the credit card thing would only be resolved once the computer generated the rental agreement.

So, I was shown round the car, told how it started, and once happy and I had signed, was the credit card required.

It went through.

Yay.

I drove back home, where I had breakfast and booked travel across the Channel, the messing around at the car hire place meant I was already behind schedule, so I booked the slightly more expensive flexy ticket, but that meant I could drive onto the next train once at the termimal. That booked and paid for, I did some final packing and loaded the car before driving out and towards Folkestone.

I drove along the A20, taking the back entrance into the terminal, drove to the kiosk and told I had not completed a part that had not been on the e-mail confirmation, so had to go into the terminal building to clear that up, and to buy a UK sticker for the car. I bought a magnetic one, so not to ruin the paint finish if it had to be taken off, only to find that all the bodywork at the back of the car was not metal, or not of anything that a magnet would stick too.

So at the Flexi lounge place, I had to buy a second, sticky one, and would have to hope it peeled off when I got back and left the paint on the car.

I loaded up with supplied for the journey, another bonus for going flexi, had a coffee, by which time it was time to board the next train.

I joined the queue at the barrier, then in 5 minutes, when that lifted, we drove round to the slope leading to the platform to begin boarding. First time I have done this in three years!

I drove on, up to the upper leavel, then along through the train until told to stop by a guy, apply the parking brake and turn the engine off. And once the train was loaded, the doors closed and announcements nearly over, the train began to move, accelerating towards the tunnel and under the cliff and the sea bed.

It never ceases to amaze me that I drove a car onto a train, wich then goes under the sea and all the time I can use my mobile phone. If this isn't the future we were promised, I don't know what is.

We arrived in France to cloudy weather, and the clock having moved on an hour. I had a four hour drive through northern France, Belgium and Holland. I could not program the car sat nav, but managed my phone, so I set off, heading north to Dunkirk and the Belgian border.

I have some hybrid thing to drive, its OK, but sluggish, the petrol engine has little power, but crusies quietly once at the right speed. I know most of the route, the first part to Ostende is what I did when I worked on Nobelwid, then to Brugge and Gent, which is the way I used to drive to and fro when I was posted to Germany.

Next city was Antwerp, with its recreation of the 7th circle of hell, the Ring.

The Ring is a multi lane, multi junction ring road that starts from the Kennedy Tunnel and is always jammed packed with traffic at any hour of the day. Three on a Monday afternoon would be no different. And no way round it, really, just had to inch along until after half an hour, reached the junction and left the Ring, accelerating as I drove through Wommelgem.

Yes, you read that right.

Further on, each town came with its own mini Ring traffic jam, giving me time to admire the wild flowers growing in the central reservations.

I passed into Holland, and I was now less than an hour away from the hotel.

Yay.

I reached the hotel, on the edge of an idustrial estate beside a lazy river, which is overshadowed by a power station that burns rubbish for its energy. The hotel is hidden behind a McDonalds, and from my hotel window thare is a KFC too.

But the hotel is fine, modern, clean and with lots of cold beer on tap. Most of the other guests turned out to be workers away from home too. Not that I am a worker, as such, but away for work.

I have a good dinner, curry soup followed by burger and fries, and with half a litre of silly strong Belgian beer on tap.

Yay.

Somehow, it was nine in the evening, and the much proised review of the agenda for the morning didn't happen. Again. I listened to some radio and went to bed.

Phew.