Monday 18th November 2024

So, back on the road again.

Or back on the rails again. At least at first.

Up at four, so early the cats didn't want feeding, a coffee, a final check of my passport, then load the car and leave.

A steady rain was falling, which would be the case most of the week, if the BBC were to be believed.

Down into town, Jools dropped me off at the station.. So early the ticket office wasn't even open either. I got my my ticket from the machine, then went onto the platform, making sure I kept hold of my bag this time.

At half past five, the train slid in from Ashford, and we were allowed on, so I put my case in the rack, and chose a seat on the left hand side. Then came 23 minutes wait until it was due to leave.

The train ploughed on through the inky blackness, stopping at overbright stations to allow the bleary-eyed to board.

Five stops on, it was my turn to get off, back into the chilly pre-dawn, and taking the escalator to the concourse, then to the DLR station, where a train had just arrived.

The DLR filled up with those, like me, traveling to the airport, but also of those heading to The City and many, many builders heading for yet more condos being built along the north bank of The Thames.

Checking at the airport takes a couple of minutes, then five more to get through security, and then have a slap up breakfast in the new restaurant, pricy, but the company was paying.

So, I dined on a variation of a fry up, with "bubble", or lightly fried mash balls as it actually was.

I looked at the duty free shop, but could find nothing really "typically" British friends living in Denmark.

A half an hour spent people watching, then walk down to gate 8, and a twenty minute further wait while our plane taxied, parked and disgorged two whole passengers.

There were about twenty of us, waiting to get on and spread ourselves round the 29 seats of the plane.

Then came the pre-flight brief, doors closed and we rev the engines and set off.

We took off to the east, so no views along the River to the City and beyond. Instead we rise above the river and the industrial wastelands of east London, where gentrification has yet to reach. But the brand new Barking Riverside branch showed well, though for the time being, the station stands in splendid isolation.

Over east London, heading north and east, over the nightmare that is the M25/A12 junction, the urban sprawl meeting nature in her golden colours. And as a hazy cloud almost hid the east Suffolk coast, my eyes dropped and I snoozed for half an hour our so.

I woke up with the tiny plane jumping around as we dropped through clouds, and the Danish countryside showed down below.

The usual steep, low turns, and we drop down and then onto the ground and land safely.

The planes rushes to the terminal, we wait to get off, then up the stairs for the long walk to immigration then to baggage reclaim.

Why are you here.

How long are you staying.

Where are you staying tonight?

Happy with my answers, I was allowed into Denmark, grab my case and walk out to the car hire place.

I wizz to the motorway some 35km away, only to find the motorway, the mid-Jutland motorvej, a huge set of roadworks, as they are now triple-laneing the part they failed to do a decade ago.

I have a meeting to be at, so nudge the speed up so that I am overtaking, slowly, other traffic.

There is no roadworks in the section of triple lane road, but starts again as Arhus Sud junction, all the way up to Nord.

I race up Randersvej, turn off and find a space to park in the office car park, race inside, meet the team just in time to set up the meeting room, get out my notebook and the audit to start.

I am neither the auditor or auditee, so I listen, make notes and try to stay awake. Not made any easier with there being sponge cake to graze.

The audit finishes, we clear up, return the refreshments to the canteen, attend the closing meeting, clean up the meeting rooms, and so it is nearly six by the time I leave for the run into town.

I know the way, but driving on the wrong side of the road, where cyclists could veer into the road and have priority at most junctions mean I was glad to get to the hotel beside the musikhaus, park and go to check in.

My old RAF chum, Shaggy, was coming to visit, and arrived as I was checking in, we go up to my room to exchange contraband: Bovril and Marmite for him, and Danish Christmas beer for me.

We then walk into town, under the newly installed lights, to the canal to find a place for dinner.

We end up in a grill, and have more Christmas beer and Korean fried chicken sandwich, which was mighty fine.

I pay, then we go to a traditional bar for one last Christmas beer, more chatting and our plans for the future, and then gird myself for the walk back up the hill to the hotel.

I get back at half ten, have a shower and relax, before getting my head down as there is even more audits to look forward to the next three days.