On a cold and wet weekend some 15 years ago, I signed up with AOL and went online. Here is what I said back in February 2011 about the first decade:
It is February 2011; nothing odd about that.
Well, it was a decade ago that I joined the digital revolution, or at least the online version.
A decade ago, after a week of gate guard, I went home with an AOL disc in my hand, powered the mighty computer on and loaded the disc and waited. And waited.
But of course that waiting was nothing compared to the waiting ahead.
Once loaded, all these wonderful icons on the desktop, I double clicked on the AOL one and listened to the soon to familiar sound of the modem dialling.
And wait.
And wait.
And in time, I got the welcome to AOL page.
I looked at the screen expecting the tidal wave on information to swamp me at any moment. I looked and the screen looked back. I saw there was an e mail in box, and I had a mail. Welcome to AOL it said. Thanks.
Now, thanks to an aborted college course 18 months previous, and so was aware of search engines. I saw a box in which to enter a word to search. So, I typed
Pen pals.
Yes, I decided I needed a full inbox and that digital friends was the way to ensure this happened. So, I clicked on a link, waited, waited. The page loaded. I clicked on the link to the ads section. And begin to scroll down.
After a while I selected people to respond to I wrote initial letters. And, I did get many replies, and with some of them I did make real friends. I say friends, because that is what I made. I had not met any of them yet, but it turns out that I would meet some in the future. So, my weekends began to be filled with writing letters to and from people all over the world. I guess some of us learned how each other lived, and how that despite our distances, our lives are pretty similar.
That was 5 years ago, and my pool of online friends, in the sense I talked about above is now just two. Two with whom I write to on a fairly irregular basis. One is in Oregon and the other is in Colorado. We write maybe once every three months each, swap news, views and what we are reading, watching or feeling. In that time I have seen them and their families grow, get older, and for the most part their children have grown into adults, and I am so lucky to have shared that journey, if from a distance.
I am now back on Facebook, but I have a love/hate relationship with it. On the plus side it does keep me in touch with distant friends and former colleagues. On the negative side it does also cast a light into some of their darker sides with what they share and post. Twitter I used to love, and is still wonderful for keeping in touch with news and following tweets during Norwich's matches and the re-run of TOTPs, feels like being in a party of friends or fans. But the hate mob is called put way too often, and seems like almost anything said can offend someone, somewhere. At least here, I can voice my thoughts without offending anyone, as so few read it.
And then there is Flickr: 35,000 shots posted, ongoing projects include: orchids, Kent churches, Kent pubs, City of London churches, trains and so on. I have met some wonderful people through photography, visited some wonderful places, seen some rare and remarkable things in the pursuit of a shot or two. Photography and my interaction with others through that will continue. This year I hope to arrange a few get-togethers involving orchids here in Kent, arranged around the Japan trip which also coincides with the peak orchid season!
Something my friend from Oregon said this week, about losing touch with people online. I had so many friends when I was down on my luck, we would offer each other support and that. But as I pulled myself up by my bootstraps, they dropped off quickly. So, those of you, wherever you are in the world, no matter how we got to know each either. I treasure each and every one of you, and you have enriched my life with either your words, your outlook or maybe your art. I thank you all.
In the next week we will reach blog # 1500, and for that I will list, in no particular order, my top ten films, and maybe my top ten songs as well. We shall see. I have done the films, but comparing a science fiction against a comedy is impossible.
Wednesday, 17 February 2016
Tuesday, 16 February 2016
Tuesday 16th February 2016
Monday
Back in the 80s, when I was a QC inspector at the chicken factory, Sunday evenings were a time of anxiety as I fretted about the upcoming week. Once I left the RAF, that continued as I had a series of temporary jobs, delivering beer or horrible chemicals. Even up to about 18 months ago, I would worry about what Monday would bring when I would open my mail box. It seems that those days are behind me, for now at least. So, I wake Monday morning, all revved up and raring to go, sure there would be no burning issues for me, mainly because I had my phone all weekend and was dealing with the issues there and then. Won't happen often, but hey.
I have breakfast once Jools has left, while outside a steady rain falls, with the BBC putting out a yellow warning for snow and sleet for the evening commute, I told Jools to be careful.
This week is another holiday weekend in Denmark, so things promised to be quiet all week. Which coupled with my first week at home all year, all sounded like music to my ears. Anyway, after the burst of excitement of the new mails, dealing with those, things settled down. I put the radio on, and whiled away the day away, working, stroking the cats and making and drinking coffee and tea. Its a lifestyle choice I guess.
At the end of the day, there was a few breaks in the clouds, so I decided to go for a quick walk to try to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. The wind was in the north, and the next bank of dark clouds were building, but for now, there was sunshine. And mud. Lots of mud.
Horses are taken for walks, is that what you do with horses; walk them? Anyway, many horses feet had churned up the path over the fields, meaning to be able to keep moving, the path is spreading onto the fields either side, where the ground is firmer. The pig's copse is still empty, and as I stood at Fleet House the last of the afternoon sun was eclipsed by more dark clouds. In my pocket I had half a dozen carrots; I walked down the path leading to the dip to feed the two sad looking horses. They ignored me at first, but then saw my carrots!
They came over and were very happy to be fed. Their owner was there, and she said it was OK, but don't feed them too much! So, the final few I took to the sorrowful group of horses and ponies in the next field, then with the carrots all gone, I turned for home.
As I walked inside the back door, the heavens opened and large hailstones hammered down. Just in time.
Monday night is now X Files night, so we wait in anticipation. Or I do at least, as the clock ticks round to nine and Mulder and Scully time.
Back in the 80s, when I was a QC inspector at the chicken factory, Sunday evenings were a time of anxiety as I fretted about the upcoming week. Once I left the RAF, that continued as I had a series of temporary jobs, delivering beer or horrible chemicals. Even up to about 18 months ago, I would worry about what Monday would bring when I would open my mail box. It seems that those days are behind me, for now at least. So, I wake Monday morning, all revved up and raring to go, sure there would be no burning issues for me, mainly because I had my phone all weekend and was dealing with the issues there and then. Won't happen often, but hey.
I have breakfast once Jools has left, while outside a steady rain falls, with the BBC putting out a yellow warning for snow and sleet for the evening commute, I told Jools to be careful.
This week is another holiday weekend in Denmark, so things promised to be quiet all week. Which coupled with my first week at home all year, all sounded like music to my ears. Anyway, after the burst of excitement of the new mails, dealing with those, things settled down. I put the radio on, and whiled away the day away, working, stroking the cats and making and drinking coffee and tea. Its a lifestyle choice I guess.
At the end of the day, there was a few breaks in the clouds, so I decided to go for a quick walk to try to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. The wind was in the north, and the next bank of dark clouds were building, but for now, there was sunshine. And mud. Lots of mud.Horses are taken for walks, is that what you do with horses; walk them? Anyway, many horses feet had churned up the path over the fields, meaning to be able to keep moving, the path is spreading onto the fields either side, where the ground is firmer. The pig's copse is still empty, and as I stood at Fleet House the last of the afternoon sun was eclipsed by more dark clouds. In my pocket I had half a dozen carrots; I walked down the path leading to the dip to feed the two sad looking horses. They ignored me at first, but then saw my carrots!
They came over and were very happy to be fed. Their owner was there, and she said it was OK, but don't feed them too much! So, the final few I took to the sorrowful group of horses and ponies in the next field, then with the carrots all gone, I turned for home.As I walked inside the back door, the heavens opened and large hailstones hammered down. Just in time.
Monday night is now X Files night, so we wait in anticipation. Or I do at least, as the clock ticks round to nine and Mulder and Scully time.
Monday, 15 February 2016
Monday 15th February 2016
Sunday
Valentine's Day
We sleep in until half seven, after the cats learn to play the trumpet to wake us up.
Looking at the weather forecast, it seems we were set for rain until three in the afternoon at least, and heavy rain too. But looking outside, it seemed quite bright with just a light drizzle in the air. However, we decided to wait until after lunch to go out and do something, with Jools going to visit Nan and the old folks in the morning, and me watching football, as someone has to. Apparently.
So, with Molly sat beside me, and keeping one eye on the birds feeding outside, I watch the football whilst eating a fresh bacon butty, it makes the morning pass in a pleasant way.
Jools comes back at just before midday; Nan is not happy, she is really clinically depressed, but there is nothing we can really do for her. She is too frail to move, and she cannot hear much nor see either. It might be easier for us all if her mind had gone too, but that is still sharp as a tack.
The plan had been to go down to Dungeness in the afternoon, but with the football on the radio, and the thought that is was going out for the sake of it really, I decided that we should stay home and do chires. Well, I would do chores once the Arse v Leicester game finished. That ended in a 2-1 win for the Gooners, which was a little harsh on The Foxes. But, as promised, I went outside to help Jools in the garden, pruning and weeding before I lost interest and returned inside to watch the second half of the Italy v England egg-chasing game.
That done there was a short pause before the Cituh v Spurs game on the radio. We ate cheese and crackers towards the end, instead of a meal. Mmmm, cheesey.
We round up the day watching documentaries on black holes and a possible 9th planet orbiting the su. High brow stuff, Jools fell asleep, but it made me think. Think it was time for bed.
Anyway, a week at home, at least, so no packing for me.
Valentine's Day
We sleep in until half seven, after the cats learn to play the trumpet to wake us up.
Looking at the weather forecast, it seems we were set for rain until three in the afternoon at least, and heavy rain too. But looking outside, it seemed quite bright with just a light drizzle in the air. However, we decided to wait until after lunch to go out and do something, with Jools going to visit Nan and the old folks in the morning, and me watching football, as someone has to. Apparently.
So, with Molly sat beside me, and keeping one eye on the birds feeding outside, I watch the football whilst eating a fresh bacon butty, it makes the morning pass in a pleasant way.
Jools comes back at just before midday; Nan is not happy, she is really clinically depressed, but there is nothing we can really do for her. She is too frail to move, and she cannot hear much nor see either. It might be easier for us all if her mind had gone too, but that is still sharp as a tack.
The plan had been to go down to Dungeness in the afternoon, but with the football on the radio, and the thought that is was going out for the sake of it really, I decided that we should stay home and do chires. Well, I would do chores once the Arse v Leicester game finished. That ended in a 2-1 win for the Gooners, which was a little harsh on The Foxes. But, as promised, I went outside to help Jools in the garden, pruning and weeding before I lost interest and returned inside to watch the second half of the Italy v England egg-chasing game.
That done there was a short pause before the Cituh v Spurs game on the radio. We ate cheese and crackers towards the end, instead of a meal. Mmmm, cheesey.
We round up the day watching documentaries on black holes and a possible 9th planet orbiting the su. High brow stuff, Jools fell asleep, but it made me think. Think it was time for bed.
Anyway, a week at home, at least, so no packing for me.
Sunday, 14 February 2016
Sunday 14th February 2016
Today is Valentine's Day. Someone who may or may not have existed. But almost certainly, did not visit a petrol station to buy some limp roses for that significant other. Or others.
But that is today, yesterday was Saturday, and here's what happened.
Saturday
I wish I could say that we did a huge amount of stuff on the first day of the weekend. But the weather had other times, and a look at the BBC weather revealed the best part of 36 straight hours of heavy rain. I know we could have gone out anyway, my friend Sam suggested some mono work, but in the end, we decided to stay in. Sta in and look out of the window with rain drops running down the outside. The wind was set in the north, it was cold, wet and grim. Welcome to February.
Jools went to see Nan first thing, then went into Canterbury to look for a few things. Most of which seemed to be ice cream, but hey. I stayed home to listen to Danny Baker and make bread rolls. As I do. The house had three sleeping cats, upset that they could not go out, and so showed their displeasure by sleeping even longer. Occasionally coming down to the kitchen to meow at their full food bowl, indicating, well, who know.
We ate the rolls for lunch, still warm and filled with cold ginger sausages I cooked the day before, just for this very meal. And they were wonderful.
The afternoon was filled with football. Football on the wireless. Man Utd lost at Sunderland, then Norwich played West Ham, throwing away a 2-0 lead to hang on to a 2-2 draw. Not good enough and falling to 19th, next to bottom in the table. Thanks to Chelski thrashing The Toon 5-1, somehow we end the day in 17th place, and out of the bottom three. On goals scored. The only bright spot on a grim day really.
Nan's niece came to visit from the heart of deepest Surrey. After calling in to see Nan, Mary came to ours to swap news, drink coffee. This is part of Jools' extended family I have heard about, but not met before. All the cats were very unhappy with their house being filled by two people they did not know, so went outside into the rain to show their disapproval.
By six Mary had left, and so Jools and I had a party. Or party food anyway. Seems like a good idea, fill baking sheets with ready made nibbles, and 15 minutes later, sit on the sofa surrounded by tasty food, sipping cider or ale. Lovely.
The day ended up with the latest Nordic Noir series, Trapped, filmed in Iceland, and very Nordic and very noir. Hit the spot really.
But that is today, yesterday was Saturday, and here's what happened.
Saturday
I wish I could say that we did a huge amount of stuff on the first day of the weekend. But the weather had other times, and a look at the BBC weather revealed the best part of 36 straight hours of heavy rain. I know we could have gone out anyway, my friend Sam suggested some mono work, but in the end, we decided to stay in. Sta in and look out of the window with rain drops running down the outside. The wind was set in the north, it was cold, wet and grim. Welcome to February.
Jools went to see Nan first thing, then went into Canterbury to look for a few things. Most of which seemed to be ice cream, but hey. I stayed home to listen to Danny Baker and make bread rolls. As I do. The house had three sleeping cats, upset that they could not go out, and so showed their displeasure by sleeping even longer. Occasionally coming down to the kitchen to meow at their full food bowl, indicating, well, who know.
We ate the rolls for lunch, still warm and filled with cold ginger sausages I cooked the day before, just for this very meal. And they were wonderful.
The afternoon was filled with football. Football on the wireless. Man Utd lost at Sunderland, then Norwich played West Ham, throwing away a 2-0 lead to hang on to a 2-2 draw. Not good enough and falling to 19th, next to bottom in the table. Thanks to Chelski thrashing The Toon 5-1, somehow we end the day in 17th place, and out of the bottom three. On goals scored. The only bright spot on a grim day really.
Nan's niece came to visit from the heart of deepest Surrey. After calling in to see Nan, Mary came to ours to swap news, drink coffee. This is part of Jools' extended family I have heard about, but not met before. All the cats were very unhappy with their house being filled by two people they did not know, so went outside into the rain to show their disapproval.
By six Mary had left, and so Jools and I had a party. Or party food anyway. Seems like a good idea, fill baking sheets with ready made nibbles, and 15 minutes later, sit on the sofa surrounded by tasty food, sipping cider or ale. Lovely.
The day ended up with the latest Nordic Noir series, Trapped, filmed in Iceland, and very Nordic and very noir. Hit the spot really.
Saturday, 13 February 2016
Saturday 13th February 2016
Friday
I have been known to complain about the amount of traveling that I do. Some weeks, by the time the weekend rolls round, I am shattered, and it is that rather than the traveling I don't like. Saying that, this week, four days at home and a day trip to Brussels, even if it meant traveling most of the way to London before picking up my train to Belgium. Even more frustrating is that we live about 5 miles from where the tunnel passes beneath Shakespeare Cliff, so to have to travel up to Ebssfleet just to travel all the way back en route is frustrating, but then to have to do the same thing in reverse is plain silly. But there were services stopping at Ashford that allowed me to see the end of the meeting.
Saying that, the thought of a nice day working from home did fill me joy; less so as I watched my mail inbox fill up during Thursday, which meant that either a later finish on Thursday, or up with the lark on Friday to toss those grenades back over the wall. As ever, the volume of work wasn't quite as bad as feared, and by mid-morning I had caught up, and now it was waiting to see if what I had done was sufficient. I have cheese and beans on toast for a mid-morning brunch, feeling much more human now.
I sat at the table working, Molly slept away on the chair beside me, apparently happy just to be there.
The bright sunrise had given way to low and heavy clouds, and so there seemed little point in going for a walk. I really should have taken the chance, but in fact, my enthusiasm of the morning faded in the afternoon, and with a migraine building, I took to the sofa to close my eyes. I wake up just before four, Denmark seems to have finished for the weekend, as all my colleagues are offline. I fire two last mails off, and I am done too.
I am to cook chorizo hash for dinner, but on her way home Jools is going to Tesco, so I wait to cook as the day fades outside. Once home, Jools puts the shopping away and I get cooking. Soon the house is filled with the smell of cooking paprika. I open a bottle of wine, and soon the meal is ready. We toast each other and congratulate the fact that we both have survived it again.
In the evening, we watch old TOTPs, a compilation of 70s music before our eyes begin to droop. Outside a frost has formed already, better to be tucked up in bed.
I have been known to complain about the amount of traveling that I do. Some weeks, by the time the weekend rolls round, I am shattered, and it is that rather than the traveling I don't like. Saying that, this week, four days at home and a day trip to Brussels, even if it meant traveling most of the way to London before picking up my train to Belgium. Even more frustrating is that we live about 5 miles from where the tunnel passes beneath Shakespeare Cliff, so to have to travel up to Ebssfleet just to travel all the way back en route is frustrating, but then to have to do the same thing in reverse is plain silly. But there were services stopping at Ashford that allowed me to see the end of the meeting.
Saying that, the thought of a nice day working from home did fill me joy; less so as I watched my mail inbox fill up during Thursday, which meant that either a later finish on Thursday, or up with the lark on Friday to toss those grenades back over the wall. As ever, the volume of work wasn't quite as bad as feared, and by mid-morning I had caught up, and now it was waiting to see if what I had done was sufficient. I have cheese and beans on toast for a mid-morning brunch, feeling much more human now. I sat at the table working, Molly slept away on the chair beside me, apparently happy just to be there.
The bright sunrise had given way to low and heavy clouds, and so there seemed little point in going for a walk. I really should have taken the chance, but in fact, my enthusiasm of the morning faded in the afternoon, and with a migraine building, I took to the sofa to close my eyes. I wake up just before four, Denmark seems to have finished for the weekend, as all my colleagues are offline. I fire two last mails off, and I am done too.
I am to cook chorizo hash for dinner, but on her way home Jools is going to Tesco, so I wait to cook as the day fades outside. Once home, Jools puts the shopping away and I get cooking. Soon the house is filled with the smell of cooking paprika. I open a bottle of wine, and soon the meal is ready. We toast each other and congratulate the fact that we both have survived it again.
In the evening, we watch old TOTPs, a compilation of 70s music before our eyes begin to droop. Outside a frost has formed already, better to be tucked up in bed.
Japan Update
All, now not wishing to make you jealous or sound boastful, but I am rather looking forward to our trip in May. Below is a brief list of the travel plans
Day 1 London to Tokyo
Day 2 Private Car from Tokyo Haneda Airport to Hotel
Day 3 8 Hours Private Guide Service in Tokyo
Day 4 Free for wandering and photography
Day 5 Bullet train Ueno to Kyoto
Day 6 Free for wandering and photography
Day 7 Free for wandering and photography
Day 8 Bullet Train from Kyoto to Hiroshima
Day 9 Sightseeing on Miyajima
Day 10 Ferry and Trains from Miyajima to Kurashiki (JRP)
Day 11 Train from Kurashiki to Takayama
Day 12 Sightseeing in Takayama
Day 13 Bullet Train from Takayama to Tokyo
Day 14 Free Day in Tokyo
Day 15 Private car to Airport and flight home.
Day 1
Depart London Heathrow on the British Airways flight BA5 to Tokyo. The flight departs at 11:45 AM and arrives at 7:15 AM the following day.
Day 2
You will be met today at Haneda Airport with a driver waiting for you as you enter into the arrivals lobby holding a sign with your name on. You will transfer by private vehicle to your accommodation in Tokyo, making for a smooth and relaxing start to your trip. Journey time is in the region of 30 minutes (dependent upon traffic). Sit back, relax and enjoy the views of Tokyo's skyscrapers as you approach the city.
Day 3
Today you will take a full day private tour of the city with a local guide, travelling by public transport, as Tokyoites do, in order to help you to get a real feel for the Japan's capital. This will be a fantastic introduction to Tokyo and the chance to get a personal insight not only into the classic sights, but also into some more unusual and unique features of the city. With a guide at your disposal you are free to set the pace of the day to be as busy or relaxed as you choose. The guide can help you discover aspects of Tokyo that you would not find by yourself and can also help you get to grips with the city's excellent transport network. Your guide will come to your hotel at around 9:00 AM (or any time you choose) to meet you and your day will proceed from there. We are keen to help you get the most out of today, so if you have any specific areas of interest please let us know in advance, so we can pass this on to the guide. Your day of guiding will finish at around 5:00 PM with the guide either dropping you back at your hotel or anywhere else in the city you wish to spend the evening.
Day 5
You will be using your Japan Rail Pass to take a JR Yamanote Line train just a few stops to Tokyo Station where you will change to the Shinkansen. The Tokaido Shinkansen line was the first of Japan's famous 'Bullet' Train lines to open and traverses the 343 miles between Tokyo and Osaka. When the 00 series trains with their distinctive bullet-shaped noses first started running in October of 1964 (just in time for the Tokyo Olympics) journey time to Osaka was over 4 hours. Today the same trip can be done in just 2 hours 35 minutes! Your journey time to Kyoto will be between 2h17 and 2h45. Keep a look out of the right hand windows of the train for Mt. Fuji. But don't be disappointed if you can't see her as she is a notoriously shy mountain
Day 8
From Kyoto you will head on down the eastern seaboard west to Hiroshima by Shinkansen using your Japan Rail Pass. This journey of nearly 400km takes around 2 hours, during which time the train passes through several major cities along the coast, including Kobe, famous for its topgrade beef.
Day 9
Today you will have a free day to explore Miyajima Island. You may like to hire bikes to get around. These are available to rent from 8am to 5pm at the JR ferry pier (last checkout is 3pm) costing 1,050 yen for the entire day. The island has excellent cycle paths and the coastal routes are fairly flat. On the northeast coast lies Tsutsumigaura, a 1km long white-sand beach lined with pine trees. The beach is packed with sunbathers, swimmers and windsurfers in July and August, but in the off-season Tsutsumigaura makes a lovely serene place to relax.
Day 10
This morning you will leave Miyajima Island and travel back to the mainland taking the JR ferry to Miyajima-guchi port, a local train to Hiroshima Station and then the Shinkansen to Okayama. From there it's a 17 minute local train ride to Kurashiki. Total journey time is around 2 hours 20 minutes including changes. You can use your Rail Pass on both the ferry and the trains.
Day 11
You will need to take a local train back to Okayama to board the Shinkansen and speed west to Nagoya, where you will change to an express train and work your way up into the Japan Alps, past some beautiful mountain scenery enroute to Takayama. Total journey time around 4 hours 30 minutes; your Info-Pack will have all the details.
Day 12
There are many ways to spend a relaxing free day in Takayama. In the morning head to the lively riverside market to see the stands selling local farm produce, flowers and crafts. Hire bikes and explore Takayama's many temples and shrines which earn the town the nickname 'Little Kyoto'. For lunch you will find that the local cuisine is truly a joy, including Japan's best beef, soba noodles, miso based dishes and roasted rice balls. Sake is the locals' drink of choice and micro breweries abound, so pop in for a tasting! A little out of town you can visit the Hida Folk Village with its traditional farm houses and craft exhibits or walk the temple trail that takes in the gentle hills surrounding the town. Alternatively relax in a coffee shop on the one of the old streets, do a little souvenir shopping and simply soak up the atmosphere of this traditional old town.
Day 13
From Takayama you will take a Ltd Express train south to Nagoya and then head east to Tokyo by Shinkansen bullet train. Journey time is 4 hours and 35 minutes.
Day 14
Today you will have the chance to make an excursion from Tokyo using the included Japan Rail Pass. The charming town of Kamakura lies just 1 hour to the west of Tokyo and can be reached by direct train from Tokyo Station. Kamakura was formally the capital of Japan for a short period in the 12th century and at that time was possibly the world's largest city with a population of over one million. Today however, it is a sleepy coastal town which attracts large numbers of day trippers to spend time exploring the beautiful shrines and temples. The most famous site if the impressive bronze dai-butsu (Big Buddha) which is certainly a must-see for any trip to Kamakura.
An alternative trip is to Nikko, located 2 hours to the North of Tokyo. This can be reached on the Shinkansen and then by local train service. Nikko is not only surrounded by stunning scenery that makes up the national park, but is also home to the World Heritage site of the Tosho-Gu Shrine. Nikko has been a place of pilgrimage for centuries and contains many important Buddhist and Shinto shrines and temples, but the most impressive and most famous is definitely Tosho-Gu with its vivid colours and many ornate carvings. Once you have marvelled at Tosho-Gu there are plenty more temples dotted throughout the surrounding forests that will keep you bewitched for a long time. Even higher up into the mountains from Nikko, it is very much worth visiting the serene Chuzenji-Ko lake and Kegon waterfalls. There are some pleasant walks around here and you may even pass some local monkeys!
Another nearby National Park is the Chichibu-Tama National Park home to the sacred Mt Takao, with its range of hiking trails and mountain-top temple complex, virtually untouched by foreign visitors. After an easy train journey of just under an hour (covered by your rail pass) you will arrive at the base of the mountain, from where numerous clearly-marked hiking trails (or a cable-car!) wind their way up to the summit. Many of the routes offer fine views back towards Tokyo and are dotted with small temples, religious statues and offerings increasing in number as the trails approach Yakuoin, an attractive temple dedicated to the 'kami'or spirits of the mountains. On a clear day, views of Mt. Fuji can also be enjoyed. The hike to the summit of Takao san can done in 2-3 hours and is moderate in difficulty.
If you fancy something a little more quirky, then a trip out to visit the world's second tallest statue at Ushiku in Ibaraki prefecture. Ironically referred to as the 'Bubble Buddha' the Ushiku dai-butsu was completed in 1995. It stands a total of 120 meters (394 feet) tall, including the 10m high base and 10m high lotus platform. An elevator takes visitors up to 85m off the ground, where an observation floor is located. It depicts Amitabha Buddha and is plated with bronze. The journey to get here will take around 90 minutes and this is certainly an amazing site seen by very few visitors to Japan.
Day 15
We will be arranging a taxi to pick up you up from your hotel today to take you in comfort to Tokyo Haneda Airport. Journey time is around 30 minutes, depending on traffic conditions. At the airport you will be dropped right at the door of the departures lobby. Have a safe flight!
Day 1 London to Tokyo
Day 2 Private Car from Tokyo Haneda Airport to Hotel
Day 3 8 Hours Private Guide Service in Tokyo
Day 4 Free for wandering and photography
Day 5 Bullet train Ueno to Kyoto
Day 6 Free for wandering and photography
Day 7 Free for wandering and photography
Day 8 Bullet Train from Kyoto to Hiroshima
Day 9 Sightseeing on Miyajima
Day 10 Ferry and Trains from Miyajima to Kurashiki (JRP)
Day 11 Train from Kurashiki to Takayama
Day 12 Sightseeing in Takayama
Day 13 Bullet Train from Takayama to Tokyo
Day 14 Free Day in Tokyo
Day 15 Private car to Airport and flight home.
Day 1
Depart London Heathrow on the British Airways flight BA5 to Tokyo. The flight departs at 11:45 AM and arrives at 7:15 AM the following day.
Day 2
You will be met today at Haneda Airport with a driver waiting for you as you enter into the arrivals lobby holding a sign with your name on. You will transfer by private vehicle to your accommodation in Tokyo, making for a smooth and relaxing start to your trip. Journey time is in the region of 30 minutes (dependent upon traffic). Sit back, relax and enjoy the views of Tokyo's skyscrapers as you approach the city.
Day 3
Today you will take a full day private tour of the city with a local guide, travelling by public transport, as Tokyoites do, in order to help you to get a real feel for the Japan's capital. This will be a fantastic introduction to Tokyo and the chance to get a personal insight not only into the classic sights, but also into some more unusual and unique features of the city. With a guide at your disposal you are free to set the pace of the day to be as busy or relaxed as you choose. The guide can help you discover aspects of Tokyo that you would not find by yourself and can also help you get to grips with the city's excellent transport network. Your guide will come to your hotel at around 9:00 AM (or any time you choose) to meet you and your day will proceed from there. We are keen to help you get the most out of today, so if you have any specific areas of interest please let us know in advance, so we can pass this on to the guide. Your day of guiding will finish at around 5:00 PM with the guide either dropping you back at your hotel or anywhere else in the city you wish to spend the evening.
Day 5
You will be using your Japan Rail Pass to take a JR Yamanote Line train just a few stops to Tokyo Station where you will change to the Shinkansen. The Tokaido Shinkansen line was the first of Japan's famous 'Bullet' Train lines to open and traverses the 343 miles between Tokyo and Osaka. When the 00 series trains with their distinctive bullet-shaped noses first started running in October of 1964 (just in time for the Tokyo Olympics) journey time to Osaka was over 4 hours. Today the same trip can be done in just 2 hours 35 minutes! Your journey time to Kyoto will be between 2h17 and 2h45. Keep a look out of the right hand windows of the train for Mt. Fuji. But don't be disappointed if you can't see her as she is a notoriously shy mountain
Day 8
From Kyoto you will head on down the eastern seaboard west to Hiroshima by Shinkansen using your Japan Rail Pass. This journey of nearly 400km takes around 2 hours, during which time the train passes through several major cities along the coast, including Kobe, famous for its topgrade beef.
Day 9
Today you will have a free day to explore Miyajima Island. You may like to hire bikes to get around. These are available to rent from 8am to 5pm at the JR ferry pier (last checkout is 3pm) costing 1,050 yen for the entire day. The island has excellent cycle paths and the coastal routes are fairly flat. On the northeast coast lies Tsutsumigaura, a 1km long white-sand beach lined with pine trees. The beach is packed with sunbathers, swimmers and windsurfers in July and August, but in the off-season Tsutsumigaura makes a lovely serene place to relax.
Day 10
This morning you will leave Miyajima Island and travel back to the mainland taking the JR ferry to Miyajima-guchi port, a local train to Hiroshima Station and then the Shinkansen to Okayama. From there it's a 17 minute local train ride to Kurashiki. Total journey time is around 2 hours 20 minutes including changes. You can use your Rail Pass on both the ferry and the trains.
Day 11
You will need to take a local train back to Okayama to board the Shinkansen and speed west to Nagoya, where you will change to an express train and work your way up into the Japan Alps, past some beautiful mountain scenery enroute to Takayama. Total journey time around 4 hours 30 minutes; your Info-Pack will have all the details.
Day 12
There are many ways to spend a relaxing free day in Takayama. In the morning head to the lively riverside market to see the stands selling local farm produce, flowers and crafts. Hire bikes and explore Takayama's many temples and shrines which earn the town the nickname 'Little Kyoto'. For lunch you will find that the local cuisine is truly a joy, including Japan's best beef, soba noodles, miso based dishes and roasted rice balls. Sake is the locals' drink of choice and micro breweries abound, so pop in for a tasting! A little out of town you can visit the Hida Folk Village with its traditional farm houses and craft exhibits or walk the temple trail that takes in the gentle hills surrounding the town. Alternatively relax in a coffee shop on the one of the old streets, do a little souvenir shopping and simply soak up the atmosphere of this traditional old town.
Day 13
From Takayama you will take a Ltd Express train south to Nagoya and then head east to Tokyo by Shinkansen bullet train. Journey time is 4 hours and 35 minutes.
Day 14
Today you will have the chance to make an excursion from Tokyo using the included Japan Rail Pass. The charming town of Kamakura lies just 1 hour to the west of Tokyo and can be reached by direct train from Tokyo Station. Kamakura was formally the capital of Japan for a short period in the 12th century and at that time was possibly the world's largest city with a population of over one million. Today however, it is a sleepy coastal town which attracts large numbers of day trippers to spend time exploring the beautiful shrines and temples. The most famous site if the impressive bronze dai-butsu (Big Buddha) which is certainly a must-see for any trip to Kamakura.
An alternative trip is to Nikko, located 2 hours to the North of Tokyo. This can be reached on the Shinkansen and then by local train service. Nikko is not only surrounded by stunning scenery that makes up the national park, but is also home to the World Heritage site of the Tosho-Gu Shrine. Nikko has been a place of pilgrimage for centuries and contains many important Buddhist and Shinto shrines and temples, but the most impressive and most famous is definitely Tosho-Gu with its vivid colours and many ornate carvings. Once you have marvelled at Tosho-Gu there are plenty more temples dotted throughout the surrounding forests that will keep you bewitched for a long time. Even higher up into the mountains from Nikko, it is very much worth visiting the serene Chuzenji-Ko lake and Kegon waterfalls. There are some pleasant walks around here and you may even pass some local monkeys!
Another nearby National Park is the Chichibu-Tama National Park home to the sacred Mt Takao, with its range of hiking trails and mountain-top temple complex, virtually untouched by foreign visitors. After an easy train journey of just under an hour (covered by your rail pass) you will arrive at the base of the mountain, from where numerous clearly-marked hiking trails (or a cable-car!) wind their way up to the summit. Many of the routes offer fine views back towards Tokyo and are dotted with small temples, religious statues and offerings increasing in number as the trails approach Yakuoin, an attractive temple dedicated to the 'kami'or spirits of the mountains. On a clear day, views of Mt. Fuji can also be enjoyed. The hike to the summit of Takao san can done in 2-3 hours and is moderate in difficulty.
If you fancy something a little more quirky, then a trip out to visit the world's second tallest statue at Ushiku in Ibaraki prefecture. Ironically referred to as the 'Bubble Buddha' the Ushiku dai-butsu was completed in 1995. It stands a total of 120 meters (394 feet) tall, including the 10m high base and 10m high lotus platform. An elevator takes visitors up to 85m off the ground, where an observation floor is located. It depicts Amitabha Buddha and is plated with bronze. The journey to get here will take around 90 minutes and this is certainly an amazing site seen by very few visitors to Japan.
Day 15
We will be arranging a taxi to pick up you up from your hotel today to take you in comfort to Tokyo Haneda Airport. Journey time is around 30 minutes, depending on traffic conditions. At the airport you will be dropped right at the door of the departures lobby. Have a safe flight!
Friday, 12 February 2016
Friday 12th February 2016
Thursday
As you may well have noticed by now, but a working day for me is either: spent at home or traveling to either our office in Arhus or to a supplier, or sometimes to visit the customer. Days working from home are generally quiet, spent with the cats with little human contact other than those I speak to on the phone. Blogs of those days are mostly short, have few photos to illustrate them, and for me any such day is like any other. THe first three days of the week were spent working from home, talking to the cats, drinking coffee. Thursday was a day for traveling.
I have been traveling up and down the High Speed line to London since it was first opened to domestic services in June 2009. All but a few rush hour trains, just one I have traveled on, fail to stop at Ebbsfleet on their way to London. Indeed, rush hour trains that do stop there, are met with crowds of passengers trying to squeeze onto an already full train. Now, the sharp-eyed of you will realise that there is a reason I am saying this, and you would be right. Since the distruption in services from Dover, I have been picking up trains to London from Folkestone, getting off at Stratford as before, then retracing my steps on the way back. Thursday, a real treat for me, I was going to travel by Eurostar to Brussels and back, departing and returning via Ebbsfleet.
Looking at the Southeastern website, I could take the eight o'clock train and arrive at Ebbsfleet with just enough time to check in to for the train and maybe grab a coffee. So straightforward, so easy.
Jools dropped me off at twenty five past seven, I get my ticket and there is time to jump onto a train which meant I would have to change at Ashford to catch one that was going to stop at Ebbsfleet. I stood on the twenty minute run upto Ashford, then got out to wait for the next train towards London, as that would stop at Ebbsfleet. No?
Before my train arrived, a 'classic' serice was due in, had to be divided then the two halves head to Folkestone and Ramsgate: it was running late, and the crowds waiting for this were large, and after it was ten minutes late, passengers for London were also filling the platform up. So, the two halves of the train pull out, and within a minute a Javelin pulls in on the same platofrm for London. The platform was so full, I could not see the full destination board, so jump on, and decide to stand again.
The doors closed, and the train eased out of the station, and the guard came on the tannoy to announce that the service was running 'fast' to Statford; which in trainspeak meant it wasn't going to stop until Stratford. There was 40 minutes or so until my train was going to leave for Brissels, and I was going to miss it. I called Eurostar and explained the situation: they were very sorry, but the next service was at 11:15, some two hours later, so much later I would miss the meeting. Or most of it.
To make matter worse, the signal gave out as the train neared Maidstone. We zoomed past Ebbsfleet at 125mph, I could see the platform I should have been standing on in about half an hour. Under the Thames and into Essex, further away from Ebbsfleet. I got a message on my phone, I could catch the quarter to nine train back to Ebbsfleet and maybe just be able to get through security to make the train. But no promises.
So, we entered the tunnel at Dagenham, rushing towards Stratford, hoping I was going to be in time for the connecting train back, but as we pulled into the station, another train was already leaving on the opposite platform. OH NO!
But, once on the platform, I looked on the information board and I saw that the train that should get me to Ebbsfleet in time was not due for ten minutes. So I had a few minutes calm before the train arrived. But once it did, every second would count.
It arrived a few seconds late, I stood looking at the door as we pulled out and entered the long tunnel back into Essex. We flew through the marshes, over the A13 and the massive jams on the M25 before diving under the river and into Ebbsfleet. I ran off the train, up the platform and climbed the escalator leaving fellow passengers training in my wake with just my sear words to calm them. The desk was still open, and the person checking the tickets recognised me, and said, oh, you made it then. I did.
Oddly enough, once through the queue for the security and French customs was calm, and I had to tell myself not to panic. Once through, people were relaxing in the chair, waiting to be called and allowed onto the platform. I saw my friend Matt, and explained my day to him, he laughed. But being at work, I was careful not to distract him. OK, showime, the train is approaching.
We wait on the platform, by the markings for the carriage were had our seats allocated. And waited.
And waited.
It trundled in five minutes late, then just sat in front of us, the doors not opening. At the other end of the platform there was a gaggle of policemen, seems like they were removing a troublesome passenger, who had done well in the 12 minutes from London had made sch nuisance to be arrested.
We were allowed on, and I found a double seat free, so sat there, and slumped, all the stress leaking out of me leaving me like a partially deflated balloon. The train pulled out, retracing my steps down to Ashford, where we took the fast lines and the station below passed like a toy train set. We were rattling on at full speed, and as the buffet was in the next carriage, I went along for a coffee, only for it to look like a throwback to the old BR days; looking very tired and a harassed lone lady serving, making coffee and warming snacks up. In fact the who Eurostar experience was a bit like that, tired: the seats and decor were also tired, freyed at the edges, and looking very much like the 22 years old these units are.
I get my coffee and sandwich, and return to my seat as we pass by Dollands Moor and the Tunnel depot. Into the blackness of the tunnel we go, traveling much quicker than the car transporters we usually take. Out the other side into bright sunshine, as the weave our way through the maze of lines around Calais to Lille and then up to Brussels. It is always amazing to see how land, just 25 miles from home is so different, small villages, country roads connecting them, larger towns having freight marshaling yards, both feeling and looking continental.
We arrived in Brussels from Lille in about 40 minutes, a quick run and so much easier than driving, that's for sure. Once off, all I had to do now was find my way to Leuven, should be easy. But then the thought occured to me, that maybe there were two stations or more in the town, and I had no idea how to find out. Looking at the destination board, I see I had just missed a direct train, and then next one would not leave until 1. But I thought there might be another, which is why some nine minutes later I am on a rattly old train, worried I might be going in the wrong direction. I tried to ask the gentleman in the seat opposite if I was on the right train. I have no idea he said yes or no to be honest, but he did smile from under his impressive mustache.
Once through Brussels Nord, the train ran non-stop and quick to Leuven, I checked to make sure it was Leuven central. It looked like it was, so I got off, followed the crowds to the exit then looked for something familiar. Across the main road, then following the signs to the centre of the town, where I hoped something would look familiar.
I saw the City Hall in front of me, so if nothing else, from there I knew the way, so I relaxed and began to look at those walking past me. I cut through to the pedestrianised street, then along to alleyway I needed to cut down to the offices. Phew, made it with ten minutes to spare. without the half hour delay on the train, I would have been in plenty of time. I ring the intercom and am let in.
Once the meeting is done, we go to the main square round the cathedral to find a bar that accepts credit cards so we could have a beer and a bite to eat. We find a place and we order Leffe Royales all round along with a sharing basket of friend croquettes, well, we are almost in Holland. The beer and food are so good we order the same again before my boss and I walk to the station where he catches a train to the airport and I try to get back to Brussels, getting off the at the right station, as there were several. Just to confuse me further, Brussels Zuid is also called Bruxelles Midi, what is a poor boy to do?
I get on an express, find a seat and watch the City slip by as disk falls It is rather beautiful I have to say. And this is work, remember.
I arrive at Midi with an hour before check in, I find a place to eat; just a bagette and a Coke, but enough for a while. I fancy another Leffe, but the bar in the station is crowded. I see an exit and some small neon signs lighting up the night beyond; could one be a bar perchance? Indeed it it, a typical continental place, lots of choice and atmosphere. I order my Leffe and watch the soaks at the bar laughing and making jokes of the poor barman. I have no idea what was being said, but barflys are the same the world over.
I go to check in and am through into the waiting area quickly enough. We wait until ten minutes before departure before being allowed onto the train. Some have a coffee, other get a meal, but its all with plastic cuttlery and looks poor fare to me. And just a few minutes walk away there are fine local places to eat and make merry.
I get a window seat, facing backwards, so as the train pulls out I see the bright lights fading away into the night. We pass by more marshaling yards, stations and other lines branching off. We leave the suburbs behind and enter the countryside, and all is dark. I do some work, preparing for yet more meetings in the morning.
Through Lille, Calais where very few get on, then past the terminal on the French side of the Tunnel. All along the line are police vehicles on patrol with lights flashing, patrolling alongside the new triple width barbed wire fence. It feels like a prison, not nice in keeping refugees out. People who are just looking for a better life. But it is what it is, I guess.
Up through Folkestone and Ashford before slowing down and spitting me out at Ebbsfleet. I wonder how long I would have to wait for a train back down the line. Again. 6 minutes is the answer, so I go down onto the platform to wait. I call Jools and she will meet me back at Folkestone.
It is half nine by the time I step off the last train, Jools is waiting outside. She takes me to Burger King where I order a Whopper without tomatoes for supper. Dirty food, but good. It hits the spot. We arrive back home at just gone ten, I have a brew, then collapse to bed, tired as I have ever been. Or so it seemed.
As you may well have noticed by now, but a working day for me is either: spent at home or traveling to either our office in Arhus or to a supplier, or sometimes to visit the customer. Days working from home are generally quiet, spent with the cats with little human contact other than those I speak to on the phone. Blogs of those days are mostly short, have few photos to illustrate them, and for me any such day is like any other. THe first three days of the week were spent working from home, talking to the cats, drinking coffee. Thursday was a day for traveling.
I have been traveling up and down the High Speed line to London since it was first opened to domestic services in June 2009. All but a few rush hour trains, just one I have traveled on, fail to stop at Ebbsfleet on their way to London. Indeed, rush hour trains that do stop there, are met with crowds of passengers trying to squeeze onto an already full train. Now, the sharp-eyed of you will realise that there is a reason I am saying this, and you would be right. Since the distruption in services from Dover, I have been picking up trains to London from Folkestone, getting off at Stratford as before, then retracing my steps on the way back. Thursday, a real treat for me, I was going to travel by Eurostar to Brussels and back, departing and returning via Ebbsfleet.
Looking at the Southeastern website, I could take the eight o'clock train and arrive at Ebbsfleet with just enough time to check in to for the train and maybe grab a coffee. So straightforward, so easy. Jools dropped me off at twenty five past seven, I get my ticket and there is time to jump onto a train which meant I would have to change at Ashford to catch one that was going to stop at Ebbsfleet. I stood on the twenty minute run upto Ashford, then got out to wait for the next train towards London, as that would stop at Ebbsfleet. No?
Before my train arrived, a 'classic' serice was due in, had to be divided then the two halves head to Folkestone and Ramsgate: it was running late, and the crowds waiting for this were large, and after it was ten minutes late, passengers for London were also filling the platform up. So, the two halves of the train pull out, and within a minute a Javelin pulls in on the same platofrm for London. The platform was so full, I could not see the full destination board, so jump on, and decide to stand again.
The doors closed, and the train eased out of the station, and the guard came on the tannoy to announce that the service was running 'fast' to Statford; which in trainspeak meant it wasn't going to stop until Stratford. There was 40 minutes or so until my train was going to leave for Brissels, and I was going to miss it. I called Eurostar and explained the situation: they were very sorry, but the next service was at 11:15, some two hours later, so much later I would miss the meeting. Or most of it.
To make matter worse, the signal gave out as the train neared Maidstone. We zoomed past Ebbsfleet at 125mph, I could see the platform I should have been standing on in about half an hour. Under the Thames and into Essex, further away from Ebbsfleet. I got a message on my phone, I could catch the quarter to nine train back to Ebbsfleet and maybe just be able to get through security to make the train. But no promises.
So, we entered the tunnel at Dagenham, rushing towards Stratford, hoping I was going to be in time for the connecting train back, but as we pulled into the station, another train was already leaving on the opposite platform. OH NO!
But, once on the platform, I looked on the information board and I saw that the train that should get me to Ebbsfleet in time was not due for ten minutes. So I had a few minutes calm before the train arrived. But once it did, every second would count.
It arrived a few seconds late, I stood looking at the door as we pulled out and entered the long tunnel back into Essex. We flew through the marshes, over the A13 and the massive jams on the M25 before diving under the river and into Ebbsfleet. I ran off the train, up the platform and climbed the escalator leaving fellow passengers training in my wake with just my sear words to calm them. The desk was still open, and the person checking the tickets recognised me, and said, oh, you made it then. I did.
Oddly enough, once through the queue for the security and French customs was calm, and I had to tell myself not to panic. Once through, people were relaxing in the chair, waiting to be called and allowed onto the platform. I saw my friend Matt, and explained my day to him, he laughed. But being at work, I was careful not to distract him. OK, showime, the train is approaching.
We wait on the platform, by the markings for the carriage were had our seats allocated. And waited.And waited.
It trundled in five minutes late, then just sat in front of us, the doors not opening. At the other end of the platform there was a gaggle of policemen, seems like they were removing a troublesome passenger, who had done well in the 12 minutes from London had made sch nuisance to be arrested.
We were allowed on, and I found a double seat free, so sat there, and slumped, all the stress leaking out of me leaving me like a partially deflated balloon. The train pulled out, retracing my steps down to Ashford, where we took the fast lines and the station below passed like a toy train set. We were rattling on at full speed, and as the buffet was in the next carriage, I went along for a coffee, only for it to look like a throwback to the old BR days; looking very tired and a harassed lone lady serving, making coffee and warming snacks up. In fact the who Eurostar experience was a bit like that, tired: the seats and decor were also tired, freyed at the edges, and looking very much like the 22 years old these units are.
I get my coffee and sandwich, and return to my seat as we pass by Dollands Moor and the Tunnel depot. Into the blackness of the tunnel we go, traveling much quicker than the car transporters we usually take. Out the other side into bright sunshine, as the weave our way through the maze of lines around Calais to Lille and then up to Brussels. It is always amazing to see how land, just 25 miles from home is so different, small villages, country roads connecting them, larger towns having freight marshaling yards, both feeling and looking continental.We arrived in Brussels from Lille in about 40 minutes, a quick run and so much easier than driving, that's for sure. Once off, all I had to do now was find my way to Leuven, should be easy. But then the thought occured to me, that maybe there were two stations or more in the town, and I had no idea how to find out. Looking at the destination board, I see I had just missed a direct train, and then next one would not leave until 1. But I thought there might be another, which is why some nine minutes later I am on a rattly old train, worried I might be going in the wrong direction. I tried to ask the gentleman in the seat opposite if I was on the right train. I have no idea he said yes or no to be honest, but he did smile from under his impressive mustache.
Once through Brussels Nord, the train ran non-stop and quick to Leuven, I checked to make sure it was Leuven central. It looked like it was, so I got off, followed the crowds to the exit then looked for something familiar. Across the main road, then following the signs to the centre of the town, where I hoped something would look familiar.
I saw the City Hall in front of me, so if nothing else, from there I knew the way, so I relaxed and began to look at those walking past me. I cut through to the pedestrianised street, then along to alleyway I needed to cut down to the offices. Phew, made it with ten minutes to spare. without the half hour delay on the train, I would have been in plenty of time. I ring the intercom and am let in.
Once the meeting is done, we go to the main square round the cathedral to find a bar that accepts credit cards so we could have a beer and a bite to eat. We find a place and we order Leffe Royales all round along with a sharing basket of friend croquettes, well, we are almost in Holland. The beer and food are so good we order the same again before my boss and I walk to the station where he catches a train to the airport and I try to get back to Brussels, getting off the at the right station, as there were several. Just to confuse me further, Brussels Zuid is also called Bruxelles Midi, what is a poor boy to do?
I get on an express, find a seat and watch the City slip by as disk falls It is rather beautiful I have to say. And this is work, remember. I arrive at Midi with an hour before check in, I find a place to eat; just a bagette and a Coke, but enough for a while. I fancy another Leffe, but the bar in the station is crowded. I see an exit and some small neon signs lighting up the night beyond; could one be a bar perchance? Indeed it it, a typical continental place, lots of choice and atmosphere. I order my Leffe and watch the soaks at the bar laughing and making jokes of the poor barman. I have no idea what was being said, but barflys are the same the world over.
I go to check in and am through into the waiting area quickly enough. We wait until ten minutes before departure before being allowed onto the train. Some have a coffee, other get a meal, but its all with plastic cuttlery and looks poor fare to me. And just a few minutes walk away there are fine local places to eat and make merry.
I get a window seat, facing backwards, so as the train pulls out I see the bright lights fading away into the night. We pass by more marshaling yards, stations and other lines branching off. We leave the suburbs behind and enter the countryside, and all is dark. I do some work, preparing for yet more meetings in the morning.
Through Lille, Calais where very few get on, then past the terminal on the French side of the Tunnel. All along the line are police vehicles on patrol with lights flashing, patrolling alongside the new triple width barbed wire fence. It feels like a prison, not nice in keeping refugees out. People who are just looking for a better life. But it is what it is, I guess.
Up through Folkestone and Ashford before slowing down and spitting me out at Ebbsfleet. I wonder how long I would have to wait for a train back down the line. Again. 6 minutes is the answer, so I go down onto the platform to wait. I call Jools and she will meet me back at Folkestone.
It is half nine by the time I step off the last train, Jools is waiting outside. She takes me to Burger King where I order a Whopper without tomatoes for supper. Dirty food, but good. It hits the spot. We arrive back home at just gone ten, I have a brew, then collapse to bed, tired as I have ever been. Or so it seemed.
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