Friday 29th September 2023

Friday, and the end of the week, but I'm not going home. I have five more days here, some more light auditing in the morning, and then more report writing.

My friend, Mark, aka Shaggy, has invited me to stay at his farm-cum-brewery supply shop, so I can check out. Which does mean packing the case, which without the teabags I brought for Rune not in it, and yet not all of my stuff fits. So I have to carry my coat and bottle of beers that Rune gave me.

I check out at twenty past six, load the car and go in for breakfast, deciding that a bacon and sausage roll was what the doctor ordered. It certainly hit the spot, as did the coffee.

I drove to the office, again without incident, meaning I had got through five days driving in the city without hitting anyone.

Which is nice.

I go to the conference room, only to find it not booked, so I go to the office, set up only to find that the whole building is moving desks, or everyone who works in it.

I pack my laptop away, and we try to find room 3.09, our new home to find most of the global quality function there, all trying to get the intraweb and screens working, not helped by the total failure of internet access.

All sorted by eight, I have my audit, wrap that up and go back to writing my report, which by three was pretty much done.

Before leaving, I meet up with my old colleague, Frank, for a chat and catch up. He's gone back to being a PQM, and he is happier there, which is good.

I program Shaggy's place in the sat nav, and head north to Aalborg up the motorway, once I had negotiated the traffic getting out of the city.

I turn off, drive through rolling countryside, two mall villages, and right by the railway lie is his place.

We both like beer and trains, so I joked on how I should have know he' be by the tracks.

We hug, I meet his wife and youngest son, now grown up. I then get given the tour of the old barns, now beer supplies warehouses and shop.

I sample one of his summer ales, which was hoppy indeed.

Would I like to try some of his wine?

I would.

So, back in house to watch his son cutting root vegetables for roasting, Shags puts a pork joint into the bbq, has an automated temperature probe which will tell him when it gets to temperature, which was about an house.

As we stood in the kitchen, looking at the sparrows feeding in their hedge, a brown shap flew by. I looked closer, and sure enough the sparrowhawk flew back and landed in the nearby tree. Shaggy was thrilled as I don't think they'd seen one before, it flew away, flying low over their lawn.

We drink wine.

Food cooks.

It is served, we eat.

Drink more wine.

Then back to the shop to try more Belgian beers and watch music videos on YouTube.

We bail at half ten after the special one I brought, it finishes us. I feel into a deep sleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.