Tuesday 4th March 2025

After eight days its time to go home.

But because of the cancellation of the BA direct flights, I now have to use KLM, but it comes with a bonus of being able to choose a later flight.

My flight wasn't until ten past two, meaning I had to be at the airport at about midday, and a 90 minute drive to get there meant leaving at half ten.

All of which added up to a lay in, lazy packing and breakfast.

On the second bed in the room was my case, my clothes and the bag of swag I was presented with on Monday. I had to get it all in the case.

It took 15 minutes, and sitting on the lid, but I got the catches closed and so could get dressed and go down for breakfast.

Quiet at eight, with most guests having gone to work, so I seat well and slowly, have a second coffee before going upstairs to lollygag and finish packing my small bag for a half nine wander down to reception to pay the bill.

The bill was paid and the receipt e mailed, so done in 30 seconds. I go to the basement, load the car and am ready for the road.

I wake the horses and we lurch out.

Through the docks and condos, then onto the main road out and onto the motorway spur.

The reason for leaving early was the roadworks on the motorway, I had seen stationary traffic a week back, so took no chances.

In the end there were no delays, so I had to park up and while away half an hour listening to a podcast before driving the last 35km to the airport.

I reluctantly hand over the keys and walk back to the terminal, but could not check in for 20 minutes, so people watch.

Third in the queue to drop my bags off, through security in 5 minutes, and up into the departure hall with the duty free and lego shops to look round.

Instead I went to the bar for a stiffner, and watched a couple of planes taking off as I supped.

Half one and the flight was called, so we go to the gate where there is a crowd of folks trying to be first on. I was very last, and so inched along the airbridge at the back as the plane filled up.

The flight was full, as the previous one had been cancelled, so all squeezed in for the 55 minute flight to naughty Amsterdam.

And again, they managed to hand our drinks and snack and collect the trash in that time.

And as ever, the taxiing took almost as long as the flight, to a pan near the terminal, but one that required a ten minute bus trip to the entrance, and waiting for a second bus for those of us at the back of the plane.

For a change my gate for the flight to London was just ten minutes away, so I had an hour to try and find Jools a new camera.

Long story.

Anyway, I went to two "Electronic" shops, only to find neither really bother with cameras much any more, or at least what we would consider cameras, but did a line in Vlogging cameras to influencers.

Instead I went to the Heikkinen bar for a large beer and some crisps, which was a two minute dash to the gate.

I chatted to an old Irish guy who didn't talk, but whispered, making conversation difficult, but turned out he's been punched at some festival in Belfast, had his nose broken and had a dozen stitches.

I went to the gate to find the flight not full, but due to balancing the aircraft, we had to be squashed up in the middle of the plane.

Not sure about that. Was never an issue on Sun Air on those flights to Billund where if not full we could sit anywhere, and the plane was tiddly.

All on, and it was a 35 minute leap to London, and yet the crew dished out drinks and snacks, and collected the trash before we began final approach.

The sun was setting, and the light golden as we dropped down over Essex and the river, and with one final skim over the river, we landed, and thus ended my last ever business trip.

We had to wait to get off, then wait again for our bags, but all good as by the time I has squeezed onto a DLR train and got to Stratford, I only had a 20 minute wait for a direct train to Dover.

On the train I got a seat, suddenly weary after the 8 days away. People looked at phones, no one talked, and outside, Kent slipped by unseen shrouded in darkness.

Jools was waiting for me, to take me home, I loaded the case in the back and poured myself in the front seat.

Back home, after my first cuppa for nine days, I defrosted some ragu and cooked pasta, warmed up some bread Jools had go, and twenty minutes later, with a glass of three of XV, we ate together.