Wednesday 21st January 2015

Monday.

Back to work?

So Soon?

But then I did not get back from Hamburg until Saturday lunchtime, and I got thinking that maybe I might claw back some time. More of that tomorrow.....

Jools had the car, so I stayed at home, fired up the laptop at eight and spent three hours firing off mails, updating documents, and feeling like I'm really on top of things. I have meetings, all is good, very good in fact. So I have lunch.



More meetings after lunch.

More work.



And then I have to make my way to the doctor's to collect some drugs. The surgery opens at half three, so I set off at three, thinking I should make the most of the time and go for a bit of a stomp. Only there has been some rain. Quite a bit of rain, and the ground is muddy like I have never seen it. Getting along the path at the end of the street was fine, but then after passing by the pig's copse, I turned down the lane to the dip, and it was ankle deep. I slithered down, and of course at the bottom it was even worse, with mud and water spilling over onto the 'dry' path that runs round the bushes.



I stagger up the hill the other side, puffing and blowing bubbles, I really am out of practice. Still, spring is coming. I decide to skip the walk over the fields, and instead walk back into the village along the cycle path, then up by the pond, past the school to the surgery. It is getting dark as I was into the village, but much easier going now I am on firmer ground.



I collect the drugs then turn for home, back past the pond, The Red Lion, down Station Road to home.

Back in time to feed the cats, and prepare dinner, which is our old favourite, chorizo hash again, but it has vegetables in it, not just spicy sausage and potatoes. It is just ready as Jools walk in, a stressful journey for her, as all the roads are very busy with the backlogs from the trouble the Tunnel has been suffering over the weekend: a fire, water damage and then electrical supply problems.

We settle down at nine for the new series of Winterwatch; perfect, whilst outside the fox comes to feed, hardly casting us a glance.

Tuesday.

One thing I forgot to say was how cold it has been. Although, to be fair, its nothing like the minus 14 it is in the north of Scotland, its been cold enough. And so, for the first time in nearly two years, we have had snow flurries. Nothing to worry about, but snow nonetheless. I mention this, as Tuesday morning, as I was going into the office in Ramsgate, Jools had to take either the bus or train to work. And since the re-organisation of trains by Southeastern, the only train that will get her to work in time leaves Martin Mill just after 6, way too early. So, the other option is the bus, so I take her into Dover.

As I drive back out of the town, up the hill to Whitfield, snow begins to fall more steadily. I think little of it, I go into Tesco, get a few essentials, and when I come out of the shop, something close to a blizzard is falling, and settling even on roads that have been gritted. I drive home, aware of how slippery it is, but make it back with no drama, driving at 30 along the winding road past Wallets Court. At eight, the most amazing sunrise happened, as the clear area of sky allowed the rays of the rising sun shine through the snow driving in from the west. Needless to say, I took a shot. Or two.



Not only do I have the car to drive to the office, I also have an appointment with a physio. You see on my trip to Germany at the end of last year, not only did I hurt my back on that trip, I did something to my arm as well. Right arm too. As my back was causing me so much gip, I concentrated on that, but after I fixed my back, it became clear that my arm was not getting better. I got poor night's sleep, could not lift heavy objects, or even things like the kettle had to be lifted using my left hand.

To cut a long story short, I had tennis elbow. After a brief spell last week when it was getting better, I did it again on my trip to Germany last week, and so there was no other choice than to get professional help. There is a clinic between here and Martin Mill, so at eight I drove down the hill, and the physio then pummelled my fore-arm for an hour. Oh my word, it hurt, but sometimes that is what is required. So, lets hope that fixes it.

After than, I drove to the office, across fields that had a dusting of snow still. It was half ten before I reached the office, and another quarter hour before I was able to sit down to work after catching up with friends.

I battled with the evil that is the Citrix gateway, trying to clear my travel expenses, but Citrix won, meaning it would be at least three days before I could clear them. Oh well. And just as I reaslised that was the case, the techs came in from work, meaning I lost my desk, so I had little choice other than to pack my stuff up and head for home.

Once again the fields were white from snow and frost, but the roads were clear enough, so the drive was undramatic. At six I went to collect Jools from the bus station, and so ended another working day. By the time we sat down to Scotch Eggs for dinner, it was seven, and the evening seemed already mostly spent. Where does the time go?

Tuesday 20th January

Sunday.

Sunday was one of those days when it wasn't quite cold enough for snow, not quite wet enough to make the rain interesting, not windy enough to make it worthwhile to go down to the beach, or any sun. It was a day for watching MOTD, eating bacon butties, and cooking bread. Chilli seeded bread. Lovely.

After lunch, the BBC had promised the rain would stop, it almost had so we went into Deal for a walk along the promenade, a chance to get some fresh air into our lungs and for me to take some photos. Its what I do.



We parked up by the pier, wrapped up warm, and wandered along the prom, past the pier, the beach, the fishing boats, the castle, more beach, more fishing boats, until we came to the lifeboat station, which meant we were now in Walmer. So, where does Deal end and Walmer starts? A hard one; the castle is clearly Deal, but in the half mile towards the lifeboat station there must be where the boundary is.



Having reached our target on the lifeboat station, we turned round into the wind and light drizzle, and made our way back towards the car. We were getting cold down to our bones, but it had been worth getting out, stretching our legs. I now, however, fancied a pint. Of beer. So, I had an idea, go to Finglesham where there should be a fine pub.



The area behind Deal and Walmer is home to many small villages and hamlets, and there is a network of small lanes criss-crossing the downs, and finding on lane that took us to where I thought Finglesham was harder than I thought. We consulted the map, put ourselves right and headed more towards Sandwich. And there were the signs, and there was the pub: open, lights shining golden in the fading light. Inside I have a pint of ruby bitter and Jools has half a cider. The Crown is a fine place, the food smells excellent. We will return with empty stomachs after pay day.



Back home, it is now dark, feeding time for the cats, and time for a snooze on the sofa whilst another game plays out on the radio.

The day winds down, we put on a radio show, have hand-made sausage rolls for dinner. And it is time for bed. Where did the weekend go? Well I lost 33% of it travelling.

Monday 19th January 2015

Saturday.

As we drove back along the M25, we struggled to see whilst driving into the rising sun. Or at least Jools did, I just closed my eyes, but the early start for her meant that she was feeling sleepy, so we decided to stop off at Maidstone services for a coffee and change drivers. Or me take over possession of the keys. We go to Costa and see they have giant Jaffa Cakes for sale. Hmm, we were not really hungry, but giant Jaffa Cakes, made with Belgian chocolate and looking so nice. We broke and ordered two with our huge coffees and so found an empty seat where we could enjoy the cake and coffee whilst some gentle people watching was carried out.

When we came out of the services, there was a young French couple trying to hitch to Ashford and then on to Hamstreet out on the Marsh. I said we could not do it, but had second thoughts as we had all day, and a drive over the marshes would be pleasant. So we called them over, cleared the back seat and consulted the Kent A-Z. Turns out they were actors, travelling down from London to put on a show at the Primary School. So, as we drove, we swapped stories, and they seemed interested in wind turbines. How polite.

So down the motorway to Ashford, then off across the marshes towards Brenzett, turning off to Hamstreet, and when we arrived at the school, a teacher was already striding over to welcome the actors. Horah, good deed for the day done.

We drove home back along the road that winds its way through picturesque villages with wonderful churches: Ruckinge, Bilsington, Bonnington and onto Lympne. Then it was a quick blast up the motorway to Folkestone, up Shakespeare Cliff and down into Dover, along Townwall Street, up Jubilee Way and home. Phew. I had been up since two forty five, UK time, now it was just after midday, and I was shattered. I still had some mails to send, update the inspection plan. And that was it.

Jools left me to the radio and the sofa as she went out to meet a friend for lunch, I made do with cheese and crackers and a cup of coffee. I had the football on the radio, but the sofa soon called. So I answered it, and snoozed away. Jools had had an almost long day as me, so when she returned home, she took to bed for a snooze too, whilst I tried to keep track of Norwich on the radio. We were 3-0 up at half time, and cruising, but a lack on concentration let Cardiff back in it, and we hung on to win 3-2, but best the new manager sees the best and worst to find out what the real situation is.

Needless to say, once it got dark, our eyes got heavier and heavier, and it was no surprise when we gave in to the call of the bed at half eight, and so the long day was over.

Nan is still in the old home, and will not be moved. She was assessed last week, and the medical opinion is she is too frail to be moved, even if they thought that it might help. The council did have some ideas how to improve things, cutting down on her meds for one, and that is now having effect as she is sleeping better. The are trying to find out what has been causing her hallucinations. She has been more lucid, and even in fairly good spirits as the week went on.

Sunday 18th January 2015

Saturday.

I had set the alarm for quarter past four, which, thanks to the time difference, was three fifteen in UK, where I would be if all went well by lunchtime.

If not sooner.

However, after my failure to set the alarm the night before and only waking up by luck in time for work, I slept fitfully, walking up at quarter TO four, and laid in bed listening to the drunks outside making their way either home or to the next 24 hour bar. When the alarm went off, I switched the light on, clothes and paperwork were all over the place.

I get up, have a shower, pack, and by quarter to I am ready to leave. Once last look around the room reveals no items left behind, so I walk to the lift, go down, hand the key into reception and walk to the car. A heavy dew had fallen, but at least not frozen. I switched the sat nav on, 44 minutes it said. Lets go!

A quick tour of the city, doubly so when the main bridge over the river was found to be closed, but taking the next turning got me back on track, then via a short detour from the main road onto the autobahn, and zoom. And at least it was dry, which was just as well as most of the road markings had been erased, making it very difficult when overtaking. But 32 miles later, I turn off, the road sign agreed that was where the airport turning was. But after that, I saw no more signs of the airport for quite some while.

Maybe it was because we have never updated the sat nav, or maybe it got bored, but it took me through industrial areas, over half built level crossings, down narrow residential streets, and past brutalist shopping centres. I was talking to the sat nav all through this: are you sure, this don't look right, and so on. When we make a turn onto a four lane road, and there was the familiar aircraft sign, and only three miles to go. So with 90 minutes to spare, I arrive at the car hire drop of point: mietwagon garage, and drop the keys off in the night safe, and a quick walk to the terminal, I find the desk, there are a dozen desks manned, so I drop off my case, am through security and have over half an hour to kill.

I have been up two hours and not yet had a coffee. ! So, I find a place and let the company treat me with a cheese sandwich, and a huge cup of coffee. Feeling better, I see I have 45 minutes to go before take off, so I had better walk to the gate.

Once again the pane is less than half full, so once aboard, I take a seat in another empty row, which I argue with the steward not to use my allocated seat. He lets me stay. Anyway, I close my eyes as the safety brief is carried out, the engines start and we taxi off into the darkness, it still being dark at half seven.

I snooze as we take off and climb over Hamburg, the lights of which showing clear down below.

I open my eyes as we are descending over the North Sea. Stretching away to the right I see the Suffolk coast from Felixstowe below all the way up to the bright lighs and beyond into Norfolk where the familiar shape of Yarmouth could be made out, even in the gloom I could also make the lights of Norwich. But we turn south-west, and the view passes.



It is dawn now, or at least getting part-light, as we fly over Chelmsford, and further down to where the orange lights of the M25 cut through the subdued tones of the Essex countryside. I get my camera out of may bag, hoping that it might be light enough to capture the scenes passing through my window. We circle over north east London, and the whole vista of the city, along the Thames is laid out. I sanp away, hoping against hope they will come out.



Finally, we come out of another turn, swooping down and along the river, over the Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, down, down until the lights of the airport show, and we are down, back in Blighty. And we are half an hour early. But, we then have to taxi round the airport for 20 minutes, finally finding our gate. And we are home. Or nearly.

Heathrow is a huge airport, always has been, or at least it is since I have been using it, and despite the rebuilding, we walk miles and miles, using travelators, escalators, endless corridors until we arrive at immigration. At least with the electronic passports, there is no waiting now, I scan my passport, and I am through, my suitcase is going round the carousel, I collect that, walk through customs, and waiting on the other side was Jools. She had come to meet me, so we can spend more time together.

We walk to the car, drive out of the garage, and the barrier lets us out without paying. We are so lucky. As we drive out onto the motorway, the sun rises, which means we are driving into the sun, making it difficult for Jools is driving.

Saturday 17th January 2015

For the first time in ages, I did not write whilst on my travels, so now that I am back home, I will have to remember all the stuff I did, which was mainly travel, work, sleep. But there was a little time free for photography and beer and food.

Thursday.

It is hard to know what to do with the three hours I had before it was time to leave the house. But, after packing, having a shower, and all the other stuff needed to be done, nine o'clock came round, I called a taxi company to take me to Dover Priory, only for him to arrive half an hour early, so I could have almost caught the earlier train, not that I would have got to Hamburg any earlier of course.

I take a seat on the station, switch on the work phone and check mails. Not as bad as it could have been, but I bounce a few mails back, and touch base with my manager, and all is well. The train arrives, all full at the front, but loads of seats at the back. I lean back, look out of the window as we travel along the coast to Folkestone and beyond, the sea on the left. Would be nice to stay home for more than a couple of days.....



As I was flying out of Heathrow, I get a different trip today, travelling to the end of the line at St Pancras, then having the choice of either a 15 quid taxi ride to Paddington, or take the Tube. I thought, as I had so much time, I would take the tube. In the end it was just half a dozen stops, so no worries, even with my two cases. We pass through Great Portland Street, and I realise its Baker Street next, and a place I had been wanting to snap for ages.



So, with three hours before take off, I spare 5 minutes, get off to take some shots, but as I have only a compact with me, the shots are not so good, but good enough for me to realise how good they could be with the DSLRs... I get on the next train, two more stops to Paddington, then instead of a mad dash across the station, I amble over, taking shots from the footbridge of the trains below. I was hungry, what to have for lunch? My stomach said it wanted a Cornish Pasty, well, thing is most stations have at least one pasty stall now. Indeed, I spy one at the back of the station, and four quid buys me a large beef one, big enough for my appetite. I take me, my cases and the pasty to the train to Heathrow, settle down in a window seat and munch, munch away. Yum.



Off we speed, on what has to be the most expensive train ride on BR, £34 for a return ticket, there are cheaper options which take longer, much longer. Not treating people well is it?

At Heathrow, I am prepared for the worst, travelling from Terminal 2, which from memory was a horrible place, but to my spurprise it seems to have been rebuilt, is all glass and steel, and for the traveller is a delight: checking in takes a couple of minutes, as does security, and then I have two hours to kill before the flight.

I find a pub, so buy a pint and settle down to check on Flickr as my account climbs towards the ten million views. I get to see the moment, take a screen shot and post it back to Flickr before my flight is called. I saunter down to find chaos, as the computer system had failed, so no seats were allocated, and the rest of the passengers were trying to get the seats they wanted. Only to find out the computer had already allocated us our seats, so we had to take what we were given.



And yet, the flight was only half full, so once all passengers were on board, I leave my seat to an empty row, take a window seat and close my eyes as preparations were made for take off. I normally fly on a turboprop, which means sitting so close to the propellers, and the noise is quite loud, so to me on a modern jet, even as we accelerate down the runway, there is little noise, only the shaking of the wings gives away the thrust being used.

Flight time is just an hour, I am given a sandwich, a coffee, which is all very nice. I am flying with German Wings, I am guessing some kind of low cost airline, but the plane is fairly new, the staff friendly. What more can you want?

It is dark and raining when we arrive in Hamburg, and it being just before six means that I will have to drive to Lubeck in the rush hour. In the rain. Won't be pleasant.

As you would expect, the arrival is efficient, through immigration, baggage reclaim and customs in a few minutes. My car reservation is good, so I am out to the garage in a few more minutes. The sat nav picks up a signal once I am on the road, so off we go. Now, I don't know much about the road network in Hamburg, but I have to drive 8 miles through the outskirts of the city, through thick, but patient traffic. I pass through shopping areas, bus stations, U Bahn stations before, suddenly, the traffic clears and I have arrived at the autobahn.

If driving through the city in heavy rain and traffic was bad, the autobahn is ten times worse, as high powered BMWs and Mercs and Audis hammer by: I take my time, concentrating hard as I make my way towards the hotel. As before, the sat nav thinks the best way to the hotel is through narrow residential streets, which always causes me to doubt if I have entered the correct address. But suddenly, I recognise the area, and the Holiday Inn was right around the corner, it had empty parking spaces, so park up, get my luggage out to check in.

I get a warm welcome, I even remember some of the staff. So, I go to my room, freshen up then go to the restaurant for dinner and a beer: deer goulash, which might be better described as venison, as the idea of Bambi being butchered for spicy stew is not nice, even if it is the truth....

Friday.

And so to work.

Oh deep joy.

At least I know the way, and what is required, just hope that the unknown factor, the customer is happy.

So, after breakfast I drive the 8 miles to the factory, I even have the change for the toll in the tunnel under the river. I am met at the door to the factory, so lets get it done.

I had expected the day to last until well into the evening, but it goes so well we wrap up just after lunch, and so I have two hours of daylight to use! A quick dash back to the hotel to dump my work gear and pick up my camera, and off I go in the glory of my safety workwear, looking for all the world like Mr Health and Safety as I wander off towards the old town.

At least the hotel is near one of the main gates into the old town, across the river and onto the main square. Obviously, it is less crowded than it was in July, but still a lovely place, jammed full of churches and old buildings. Last time I visited two of the larger churches, and I thought I saw another one on the other side of the island. So, it was that church I was making for.

That and the marzipan salon!

A couple of friends on Flickr said I had to try the marzipan cake, and as I found the place the last time I was there, even as it closed for the day, the hardest decision was to whether have the cake before or after I find the church.

In the end I go to find the church first, and it is just 5 minutes beyond the marzipan salon. St Petri is under restoration, or so it seems, or maybe its now just a venue for arts, but the body of the church was closed, all was red floor tiles and whitewashed walls. However, you could get to the tower, and after paying €3, I find there is a lift to the top. I have the place to myself, and all around the city is bathed in late afternoon sunshine, giving everything a warm glow. I take shots, lots of shots. Until the batteries fail.



So, down I go, back to the streets, to find a shop selling batteries. And there was a slice of cake with my name on it.



Café Niederegger is an institution, making marzipan, and becoming a national and international name. Being winter, it is almost empty, so I ask what is the best thing to have: a slice of cake is presented to me, so I have a coffee too, and take that along with me in my grubby workwear to a table in the corner of the plush room to feast on sugar.

Only, it wasn't that sugary, which was good for my not very sweet tooth, the cake is filled with fresh whipped cream, and is very nice. And for five euros, not bad value either.

Darkness was now falling, so as I had a stupid early start in the morning, I walk back to the hotel so to have an early dinner and relax. I find a record shop on the way back, and end up with two more twelve inches of vinyl, better leave now before I spend more money I think.

I have burger and fries for dinner, along with more dark beer. But the burger is hand-made, and is great.

Thursday 15th January 2015

Wednesday.

Another day during which the wind blew, so another day working from home for me, and a day where the cats knew where I was, so their every whim could be meowed for.

Jools left the house and into the maelstrom at just gone seven, leaving just me, the cats and the works computer alone for the day. I switched the computer on, looked at my mails, and already the day was shit and only going to get worse. A lot worse. I won't go into details, but a mail received at ten past one, meant the whole day would now be given over the clearing the crap up. I fired off mails, more mails, and yet more mails. Then waited. Got answers, sent replies, had meetings. And at half four, I got clarification and the panic was over, but so was the day.

Outside, the rain had cleared, the sun had come out, I had hoped to get out to catch some sun at the end of the day, work had other ideas, and then just before sunset, clouds swept over covering the sun, meaning those hoped-for sunset shots would have to wait another day.

The cats were watching my every move, and I broke at half four, and fed them, although by this time the regular handfulls of crunchies meant that Mr Handsome, Mulder, was out strutting his stuff somewhere. The ladies ate, as outside the sun set and darkness fell.



As soon as Jools came home, she had to field a call with social services regarding Nan. It is a mess, with it looking like her current home playing tug-o-war with her. We shall see. Jools had cooked a bread and butter pudding, which was fine, we ate that whilst watching Michael Caine in The Ipcress File. Caine was playing himself, and was very good at it. Cinetography was very 'modern' and jarring this far distant, but seeing London in the 60s, all grimy, still with steam-hauled trains and empty parking spaces was a real delight.

I round off the evening by watching 1p5wich on TV, playing Southampton in the Cup. They were awful, thankfully, and so I only had to watch 20 minutes, with every minute feeling like an hour the game was so poor. Still, got to laugh.

Wednesday 14th January 2015

Tuesday.

A day in which as time went on, I lost more and more control.

And added to that, I picked up a bug which opened the gates at both ends, which resulted in me spending the afternoon groaning in bed, rather than slaving over the hot keyboard of my work computer. At least I had the cats to keep me company. Two of them settled down on the bed to keep an eye on me, and to make sure when I might feed them. At it turned out, they got fed at half four, just as the phone started going crazy.

Nan has never been happy at the care home, and what with the official investigations going on, and the local health authority carrying out their own checks on Nan, they have recommended that Nan is moved, only to find out there a place has opened up at another home. Tony visited it yesterday, and is much better than where Nan is now, so we reserved the place, only for Nan's current home to start throwing up all sorts of obstacles in the way, not least was 28 days written notice. Each 28 days costs three grand remember, and for that she is not being looked after and slumping further into depression.

So, work is now going on to try to smooth things out with her current place, whilst making sure she does no loose her place at the new home. Fingers crossed on all this, that Nan will go somewhere where she will be cared for, happy and get something like value for money.

THe evening was spent with Jools gong to visit Dad, and me listening to the radio, entertaining cat and drinking whisky. With my stomach the way it was, probably not the wisest course of action. Then the football went into extra time. And penalties. Late night then.......