Thursday 14th May 2015

Tuesday.

After the glorious sunshine and warmth of Monday here in Denmark, what would Tuesday bring?

The answer was rain. And lots of it.

And due to the fact that Thursday was another Danish Bank Holiday, there were no flights that day, and Wednesday's evening flight was full, which meant, by a process of elimination, that I would have to fly out Wednesday morning, therefore needing a stay at the old Zleep at the airport, and therefore check out of the compound, sorry, Scandic West that morning. I could lie and say I packed, but the truth being in the room for a little over eight hours, I have not unpacked. So, I showered, dressed for success and went down to check out and have breakfast.

A quick drive to the office, write some mails, then wait for the customer arrive for what may well be one of the final interface meetings. Its no lie to say things have gone well. Very well in fact, and I already have the nod as to what my next project will be. So the next two years or so is sorted. Anyway, we have the meeting, and all is very well natured, and very happy. We are halfway through the installation phase, with the commissioning to go but all will be done in due course. All rather all good news to be honest. And I can claim I had a small part in that.

We have lunch, chat some more during and after, and they leave at two. The first meeting on the next project begins after that.

So it goes, so it goes.

That also done, I write more mails to be up to date, then pack up and prepare the drive to Billund and the hotel, beside the airport.

This did mean hitting the motorway in the rush hour, which is never going to be fun, but then I have an eight-seater Citroen C4 things, in which to relax in and spread out all my stuff inside. Which is always the way, having a huge car when I am on my own, and something tiny like a Fiat 500 when in Germany back in the winter. But, with rain falling gently, but then I have all evening to get to the hotel, check in and drop the car off, I take my time and so arrive after half six, but safe.

I check in, drop by bags, drive to the other side of the terminal to drop the car, then into the terminal itself to complete the paperwork and have dinner. There is little choice for food at the airport: just the cafe thing in the arrivals hall, and with the limited choice, I always have a burger and a large beer. Which I order again. It comes with garlic mayo and fries. Its OK, not the best burger in the world, but tastes good after nothing since breakfast.



That done, I walk back to the hotel to get more work done, and find something to while away the evening, which ended up ignoring the Champion's League game on TV, I put it on, but it really is not that diverting, even is Bayern ran out 3-2 winners against Barca, who go through to the final. One big club knocks another one out: shock. Or not.

At eleven, shattered, I go to bed, hopeful that the last flight had arrived so the jet engines don't keep me awake. Jools had asked earlier, if there were any quiet rooms at the hotel. There are no quiet rooms at the hotel due to the fact it is 50m from the airport.

Wednesday.

To my surprise, I slept like a log, and thankfully I had set my alarm so I was awake at just before six. Already outside, planes were arriving and other starting their engines. Welcome to Billund.

I pack, check out and have breakfast, and then walk the 400m to the terminal, get my boarding pass, check in my case and go through security. I have an hour and a half, so I relax, turn the computer on and answer some mails.

At eight, the flight is called and all passengers make our way to the gate. Nothing to think that anything could be wrong as we baord the plane, wait for late arrivals and then the door is closed and the engines start, right on time. We taxi to the end of the runway, the engines rev and roar, we lurch forward, but all is not well. As we trundle down the runway, the engines rev up, put then power is cut.

We taxi back to the terminal, it is mentioned that a screen is needed to be changed, will be half an hour. We wait, and a new aircraft is brought over. It is identical inside, but has it engines rather than a turbo prop. We climb on board, back in our original seat allocations. What I can tell you is the 328-300 is quieter and has less vibration that its turboprop cousin. Anyway, we start up, safety briefing given. We taxi to the runway, and off we go, climbing into the clouds over Legoland, leaving Denmark behind.



The pilot makes an announcement: for reasons not made clear, the plane cannot land at London City, but can and will land at the nearby Southampton airport. SOUTHAMPTON!? It's nowhere near! I think and rationalise he must have meant Southend. I hope as Southampton will involve at least a two hour bus trip back up to London, the cross London, a train back home: I would do well to be home before four.



As it was, I was right, Southend was our destination, so we fly over northern Holland, along the coast and over the sea, and over my wind farm project, Luchterduinen. 24 out of the 43 turbines have been installed, and it is looking like a working windfarm, even with just two turbines turning.



We get lower and lower, until as we cross the coast we are only a couple of thousand feet above the land. We touch down and taxi to the terminal, a member of staff is waiting, takes us through the baggage reclaim, out into the car park and to the bus that would take us to London City. I bagsie a seat at the front, and am happy sitting behind the driver. We make our way out of Southend and onto the A13. It is a glorious sunny day, warm, abd with white fluffy clouds from horizon to horizon.



Through Essex, to Greys, Thurrock, over the M25 and into east London. At least traffic was light, and we arrive at the airport after about an hour on the bus.



I get by cases from the coach, run to the DLR station as a train to Stratford was due. If I was lucky, I might just get the quarter to one train. I had 25 minutes.

As always when you are in a hurry, the train seemed to daudle, meaning I arrived with just 5 minutes in which to get up from the station, over the road, and back down more escalators to the Southeastern platforms. Just my luck that the previous train had broken down, so mine was running 6 minutes late.

But what it also meant was that everyone from the broken down train, would have to pile on the next one. That we do, just, and I get a seat. On the wrong side of the train, but that'll do.

Once in Dover, I have to get some money out before I can flag the final taxi in the rank to take me home. I get back just before two, with half an hour before a meeting over to communicator. I manage to make a brew and a sarnie, before switching on the laptop for the meeting, which then over ran by half an hour as we argued over the definition of words. All so painful.

At four I had had enough. I had been up since before five, UK time, and I needed some exercise, but with heavy rain forecast for all day Thursday, therefore, I would push the lawnmower round the garden. It was a wonderfully warm and golden afternoon. I had an audience of cats, waiting for their dinner.

It is warm enough to sit in the garden for a while, so I read When Saturday Comes soaking up the late afternoon rays. Life really does not get any better than that.

Yes it does, when Jools comes home, we have Scotch Eggs with some home-made pasta salad and some wine. That is much, much better.

It is half six, we sit down to watch the final two episodes of Broadchurch, and we both guessed who done the deed. But by then, it was half nine, time for a shower and bed. Where did the day go?

Wednesday 13th May 2015

I am writing this in a small hotel room in Billund, some 100 metres from the airport pan, and about 1km from Legoland. Outside it is very dull, overcast and pissing down. This is autumn. As yesterday was glorious, wall to wall sunshine, so must have been summer.

Normal service has been resumed.

However, I am home on Wednesday, and there will be Jools. And cats.

Sunday.

You know, some of Sunday was less than 48 hours ago, and yet I cannot really remember stuff we did. Let me think really hard. But not hard enough to get a headache.

Oh yes. It will not come as a surprise to learn that Sunday began with a hungry cat, getting up before six, having a coffee and watching football. As I watched the footy, my eye was drawn to some movement outside. And there was a fox, in broad daylight, wandering up to the bird food and munching on peanuts. He dashed through hedge, but re-appeared a few seconds later, standing on its hind legs, getting more peanuts off the top of the wall. I could only see its head and front paws, as it scooted the peanuts into munching range.

Then he was gone. The football played on.

After checked in online for the flight to Denmark the next day, we went to visit Nan. Or rather Jools did, and I went to visit my mate, Gary for a chat about photography and wildlife. As we talked, various birds including a Greater Spotted Woodpecker, a Yellow Wagtail and various crows, starlings came to feed outside.

I went back to pick up Jools and to see Nan. Now 100 and ¾, she is in fine form, no longer seeing strangers on a bus, at least not on Sunday, is sharp as a tack, but bored. What can we do? Not much, just go and visit, talk about life and tell her how well things are going, despite be being involved. We wish we could look after her, but she required 24/7 care, and we cannot provide that. One of the children she was a nanny for in the 1930s came to visit, he is 85, founded the Royal Photographic Society (or something) and arranged Churchill’s funeral, well he came to visit this week, and found Nan also in fine form.

We then went to the outlaws, to see Dad, Jen and the chickens.

All is well there, computer problem sorted, and I listened to Dad’s repetitive tales from the coastal steamers, after he got out of borstal. All true. He’s a bit like my Granddad, repeating his best memories over and over again. Maybe it comes to us all?

Back home for lunch, more stinky French cheese, red wine and then a snooze. Of course.

The football blared on the radio. On occasion, I even listened to it. After a fine dinner or chorizo hash, we’re still not bored with it, we watched two more episodes of Boradchurch and then I packed ready for the early start on Monday.

Monday.

And here we go, another early start.

It is spring, the sun is shining. We get up, I have coffee, check my stuff and I am ready. Waiting on the platform at Martin Mill at five to seven, with ten minutes to spare.

The train is never full here, so I get a seat and wait as we drop down into Dover to collect more passengers, then both Folkestone stations to fill the train right up. It is a thankless experience, but the four on the table in front of me are all friends, and seem to meet up every morning for a catch up and chin wag. Harmless stuff, mostly about a new Turkish takeaway in the town. Mmmmm, kebab.

So, into London, with the countryside, motorway and all the trash in Essex speeding by. Dash across London, check in my case, through security. Now what to have for breakfast? Porridge apparently. £10.40 for a small bowl and a coffee. But the company was paying, but hey, a tad expensive don’t you think so?

The flight is called, so I make my way to the gate. I meet my colleague Gary (no, another one) so we chat before we board. Once again I leave my camera in the hold, so no pictures, but the usual views as we bank north over the City and along The Thames, then over Essex. As usual, I could trains as we fly. Sad, I know. But it passes the time, and I get to 26 before we climb above the clouds.

I have breakfast (another one), more coffee. All is good.

Europe scrolls below us, passing over sea, northern Holland, more sea and then there is Denmark, and its sunny!

Yes, we land, the sun is shining and it is even warm.

I pick up my car for the week: a huge Citroen C4, big enough for seven people, shame its just me and my two small cases. And off I go, heading north to Arhus.

I am in a good mood, oddly. The reason I will reveal in due course.

At the office most people are away or about to finish for the day. I meet some people, write some mails, then head for the hotel to relax before meeting my mate Shaggy for beer n food. I have brought him some Tetley tea bags as well as two jars of Bovril, him being a proper Midland boy and all. So, at quarter to six he lets me know he has arrived, so I go down laden with the goods, and we then drive into town to look for a place to eat and then drink.



Sadly, the burger place was full, so we walk down the street to a Chinese place we went to last year: I have the crispy duck I had last time, and it was just as good. We then retire to the Peter Give for a beer, and even sit in the beer garden to sup our ales, despite the lengthening shadows making it cool.

At nine we call it a night, and he drops me back at the hotel where there is time for a shower before bed takes me from this world

Sunday 10th May 2015

Saturday.

Wow, where did that week go? Seems like it was only yesterday it was yesterday. Or last weekend.

Having gotten home on Friday morning, it gave me the opportunity to aclimatise back home before the serious business of the relaxing began in earnest. And as what has come to be the usual stuff for a Saturday, I drive to Sainsbury's to bet some essentials. I say essentials, its really just beer and asparagus. Which is two of the main food groups.

That done, I come home to make breakfast, bacon butties, because I did also buy some smoked streaky for just that purpose.

Once that is done, the washing up is complete, I can hear the orchids calling. And where to go? Well, to Barham.

But before that, we have to go into Canterbury to get a blower. A blower. Over the past few weeks I have managed to get some dust and dirt on my camera sensor, and short of having it professionally cleaned, there is the cheaper option, get a puffer brush and try to clean it myself. And in these new, modern times, the choice of camera shops is small, especially now that Jessops has mostly closed, but there is a small independent shop on the edge of the city.



Canterbury on a Saturday, heck any day, is a nightmare for traffic, the mix of the cathedral and other places of interest, and the legacy of ancient streets and traffic is a toxic and slow moving mix. We get into the city just before nine, find a car park close to the shop, and in doing so, I finally find the entrance to St Augustine's Abbey, where I shall return over the summer. At some point. The shop is open, I ask for the puffer, they have one, I pay the bill, they put it in a back and we walk out. 2 minutes. Speed shopping.



Back to the car and time to get outta the city and into the countryside. At least we have a short drive, back to Bridge on the main road, then turning north to Barham, and then via various country lanes and tracks to the familiar car park. We can't hear any other traffic, just birdsong fills the air. The clouds have parted, the sun comes out, and all is right with the world. And despite the recent rain, the ground seemed quite dry, so we decide not to put on the walking boots.



Up the bridleway, until the bluebells start, and about a hundred yards further on, we make out the rosettes of the Early Purples. At first just the rosettes, as it seems that all the spikes have been eaten by rabbits. But in a while there are flowering spikes, and very soon the orchids are densely packed. On both sides. I see some very pale pink orchids, but I am looking for the pure white variant, but it is Jools who calls out, one single pure white spike, looking glorious.



On the other side of the track, the orchids are very dense, and very tall, an impressive sight for sure, and I snap many of them, and more general shots of the orchids in their woodland setting.

On the other side of the road, we explore the extensive wooded hillside, and find many rosettes, and a few spikes beginning to open, especially a few Lady. And with many more to come. Fly are close to opening, and the thousands of Twayblade are open or nearly fully open. Then there is White Helleborine and Common Spotted, still a few weeks away.



A short drive away is another orchid site, very small, but a prime place for Birds Nest Orchids. I had seen on Flickr some were open in Sussex, so though I would check out here, and was rewarded with four spikes emerging through the leaf litter, and one of the White Helleborines is near to opening too. Its all happening!



However, there was serious business afoot, with the Championship play-offs, and City v Ipswich kicking off just after midday. So, we dash home, put the radio on as the players have just walked out. Its tense stuff, not many chances, City take the lead on half an hour, but Town pull level with a scrambled goal before half time. The second half was also scrappy, but I guess City will be happy with the 1-1 at full time, and the second leg next week.

In the Prem, where the season has three games to run, Burnely go down, QPR need three wins to survive, but Sunderland win at Everton, and Newcastle break their eight game losing streak to draw with WBA. All exciting stuff.

In the evening, we break out the Broadchurch DVD at last, and are soon enthralled, and having our own theories as to who did the deed.

Saturday 9th May 2015

Thursday.

Election day in UK

No Election in Denmark.

For some reason I am awake at just gone five, and it is daylight already outside. I try to get back to sleep, but it would not come, so, I get up, have a shower and pack. This is a flying visit to DK, I am at Billund in the evening, and flying home in the morning, which means checking out.

As ever, it is painless to check out, have a bite for breakfast, and even they are covering the British election. As this trip was a little last minute, I did not have time to arrange a postal vote, so I am not taking part. Silly me.

A quick drive to the office in the heavy morning rush hour traffic. Although it is not as bad as it sometimes is, maybe that is because it is daylight, and traffic seems easier than when its dark. Once in, I find a desk, fire off some mails and prepare for my meeting with my new boss.

I won't go into details, just as well I suppose, but a couple of weeks ago, it was announced a major reorganisation in the department, with my old boss stepping aside, and someone I had not heard of before, coming in. Coming in with new ideas. And I had a two hour meeting. to get through. Now, do I tow a company line, or tell the truth? Well, I will keep my council on that one.

Afterwards, at midday, I have to drive down to Esbjerg to meet the guys there, what with my friend Steffen having resigned, it is all change again. So, I need to know that all is well with who is left, and with the new guy who has come in. That leaves me with a 90 minute drive, and I also have a meeting when I arrive. It is at least sunny and driving is a pleasure, with the bright sunlight making the drive a joy, if not the heavy truck traffic. Down to Velje, then along the motorway to Esbjerg. I realise I have minutes to get to the office before the meeting is to begin.

I pull up outside, grab my bag, sign in, and I have seconds to spare. By the time the computer starts and I open up Lync, I am late, but only by a couple of minutes. That completed, I have more mails to send, people to see. It is four by then, and everyone is leaving the site. So, why not me too?

One final drive to Billund, once again in the bright afternoon sunshine. Traffic was light, and driving in the new car is fine, it was quite high, so I have good views over the farmland. At one point I pass a buzzard landing, and he is over a prey, all feather ruffling in the breeze. An amazing sight, lasts less than a second as I carry and drive past. Another hotel to check into, dump my bags, and then drop the car off, a walk to the terminal to drop the keys off, then go for what is my first meal in two days. As usual, a large beer and cheeseburger and fries. I was more than ready for it. And it tasted wonderful, even if its not the best burger in the world.

A 5 minute walk to the hotel, power the computer up once more to write more mails and listen to the radio. Outside there is a stunning sunset over the airport, all golden colours, and the noise of arriving and departing flights. I try flicking through the channels trying to find something worth watching, but there is nothing. So, when the radio show ends, i brush my teeth and go to bed.

Friday.

I wake up when the alarm sounds, its quarter to six. Switching on the computer to check the news it seems that the Conservatives are winning the election, I groan and switch it off. I don't have much to do, have a shower, get dressed and go out to the lobby for breakfast: some cereal, a roll with cheese and two coffees. It is a short walk back to the terminal, from the self service machine, I get my boarding card and go to the BA desk. The airport is about deserted, I have never seen it so empty. There are about 5 members of staff milling around the check in desks. No wait at security, and in 5 minutes I am in the lounge, powering up the computer once again. The results are getting even better for the Tories, I groan again. Pity to poor, the sick, the disabled and the old who will suffer like never befre for the next 5 years. The only highlight really is the collapse of the UKIP vote, or more accurately, their votes not turning into MPs.

When the flight is called at eight, I am surprised to find it full, all 28 of us on board. It is a glorious morning, there is barely a cloud in the sky, but once we have taken off, and climbing as we head south, thick cloud passes underneath, and the ground is obscured until we get to Essex. I have another breakfast, just another roll, but in a comedy moment, I manage to spill a cup of coffee over myself. Just my luck!

Outside, the clouds clear, and there is the Essex coast, its profile is now so familiar to me. We circle round south London, turning at Crystal Palace and Battersea again. And once again, my phone is in the hold, so I have no shots. We are a little further north than usual, we fly over Buckingham Palace, and have a really fine view of the palace.

Down over The Barbican and The City, and we are down, it is an hour earlier, and if I am lucky, I might catch the quarter to ten train from Stratford. Somehow I am the first off the flight into the terminal, along to the immigration, and through. My case comes round, I grab it, dash to the station, I get a train just as it is about to pull out, 15 minutes. Would I make it?

In a word, no. We arrive at Stratford at quarter to, just the time when the train was due, y the time I get up from the platform and across to the International station, it is 09:47, and I have missed the train by two minutes. That gives me time to have a coffee: gingerbread latte with an extra shot, which is just great. I check with the ticket office to see if I catch a train to Ashford and get a connecting train to Dover, I would only be in Dover 10 minutes earlier than if I wait. I wait.

Whilst on the platform, finally the result from Thanet South comes in, and the leader of UKIP fails to get elected. A small mercy. It is now clear the Tories have a majority, and they can get whatever legislation they want to through. And there is little we can do about it: greed and vested interest has won through, and the poor, the sick, the elderly and disabled will have to look after themselves. The law will be changed to limit legal challenges, and the costs will spiral, meaning the law and legal redress will be the privilege of the rich. As will healthcare. Newspapers, and even the BBC did not investigate the policies, or more importantly, the Tories record, and therefore, their lies, and incompetence went unchallenged.

The train comes, I get a window seat and watch as we pull out of the station and into the tunnel. Essex flies by, roads are clogged with traffic, but we are going in the opposite direction. And in a train.

At Dover there is a line of taxis waiting, so I take one and he whisks me up Jubilee Way to St Maggies and home.

And so I am home, and it is Friday. I steer clear of the news, make some lunch, then do some work on the computer, before finishing for the weekend. The radio burbles away to itself. I do some work in the garden, deadhead some daffs again, cut the runners off the raspberries. I am accompanied by various cats, all hoping I would feed them.

At four, Jools calls, should she get fish and chips on the way home? Yes, I think she should. Outside it has begun to rain, but I have got the washing in already. I butter some bread, boil the kettle all ready for Jools' arrival with dinner. When she does arrive, there is nothing quite like the expectation and smells of fish and chips in newspaper. And it is great, and in quick fashion I make it all vanish from my plate.

We have a quiet evening in, is there any other kind? Monty Don, in a garden. Then bed. Thanks you and good night,

Friday 8th May 2015

Tuesday.

And back to the coalface. If I lived in a coalmine, way below the surface. I don’t, and as I have done all my travel expenses now, can work from home. Which means, watching Jools get ready for work, making a second coffee, having breakfast, get dressed and then getting the work computer out and start the working day.

Outside, the rain was coming down sideways, always an impressive sight. Glad I was inside, but then I had to go out later. And what an adventure that would be!

After a meeting, I called a taxi to run me into town for my dental appointment. I was there in time, but they were behind. Midday came and went, as did quarter past. Finally I goes in, and so the torture begins. Don’t think we need anesthetic on this one, do you? He asked. I agreed, but was tense, very tense for the next half an hour as he fixed my filling, gave me a good clean. I may not have a million dollar smile, but its ok. And they’re all mine. Mostly.

The plan was to walk back home, along the cliffs. I have done it in an hour and a quarter, when I was fitter, so I thought two hours should do it. After calling in for a stiffner at the White Horse, I walked along Townwall Street to Athol Terrace, in front of me the path rose up stteply to make it to the cliff tops. But what is this, the path is closed!

Closed for six months, and no alternative route! Bah and double bah! I think what to do. Oddly enough there are no roads with footpaths home, and this is the only safe way to walk home from Dover. The only other alternative, is up Castle Hill, along Reach Road, which means dodging traffic, and risking life and limb. But now that the rain had stopped, and despite it blowing a gale, it was a fine day, and the cliffs would be great.

So, I double back along Athol and East Cliff, past the pub and up the long slog and climb of Castle Street. It is a struggle for sure: past the castle entrance, to the top of Connaught Hill and up and round to the Start of Reach Road. But, thankfully, the verges have been recently cleared, and there was just enough space to walk along most of it, without walking in the road. Across Jubilee Way, and up again to the hairpin bend where I could pick up the path again, as long as I can just not get knocked over.

And I make it, traffic was light, and for the most part drivers gave me lots of clearance, but some did not, and I could feel the air being moved by their wing mirrors. Twats the lot of them.

I look down the footpath, past Jubilee Way, some 400 yards from where the path was blocked, it had taken about an hour. Maybe less, but it felt like an hour. But now I was on the cliffs, with the wind in my hair, with views over to France and the ferries trying to get into port through heavy seas and waves crashing over their bows.

I walk up the Cliff Road, and then cut across Langdon Hole to pick up the path as it heads north, climbing higher and higher. The gales was at its peak now, battering me as I tried to walk along. Below and out in the channel, the sea was all white horses, and very impressive.

It was already nearly three, how had it taken this long. I tried to look for some orchids at Fan Bay, but the wind was too strong to see anything with any detail. I pressed on, at least I was getting near the lighthouse now, which marks the end of the cliff part of my walk, just have to get from there home.

I pass a few folks out walking, but I am happy, with the sight of the sea, the sound of the wind and the dramatic landscape to entertain me.

At the lighthouse, I take the path to the road, then cutting across the fields to the church, and finally down Station Road to home. It was five to four, it had taken the whole afternoon.

I open the back door, and three cats are waiting to be fed, not thinking I should have a brew first, now it was all meow, meow, meow. I make a brew, feed them, then set about packing for the trip on Wednesday. Where does the time go he asks…..

I prepare dinner, breaded aubergine, and the pasta salad made on Sunday. I am just finished the egg and breadcrumbing when Jools comes home. She makes more brews. I cook the aubergine. We sit down for dinner, and all is well, apart from the fact I am off travelling again on the morrow.

Even the football fails to engage: just the Champion’s League, but it is all bread and circuses, but Juve beat Real 2-1, which is good enough, even if I don’t see the final 20 minutes as I was asleep already. Phew, rock and roll.

Wednesday

I was awake at dawn, if not before. As somehow, in England, at the beginning of May, I have been bitten to buggery by a mozzie. Maybe two. The itching on my legs are driving me to distraction, and needless to say, sleep is hard to come by. Also, it was hard to sleep as Mulder tried to make a cat nest with a curtain still attached to the curtain rail. But credit where its due, in that he kept on trying, and was purring for England as he went about his work.

I laid in bed, listening to the wind still blowing outside. Better than it blowing inside, I guess.

I get up, as does Jools, we have a coffee and soon the minutes slip by and it is time to drop me at the station. Time spent at home with Jools goes so quick!

The ticket office is closed, so I go to wait on the platform with the other commuters. Above us, crows are arguing about who owns a nest, it seems to be settled, but the crow who won carries on squawking. The train arrives on time, and I get a window seat, the ticket collector vanishes from the carriage and I don’t see him for the rest of the trip. By the time we leave Folkestone West, it is pretty much standing room only, and I am trying to snooze, but as ever the passing countryside is too interesting.

At Stratford I have to buy my tickets, and right away hand over the out part to get through the barrier. A DLR train has just left, so I have like 6 whole minutes to wait! I must be running a little later than usual, as the train fills with families on the school run, so get off at West Ham, or Canning Town, but are replaced, many get off at the airport, but leave through a different entrance.

I get my ticket, check my case in, go through security, and am in the departure lounge with half an hour before the gate opens. I grab a sandwich and a coffee from a shop, and sit to watch the world go buy as I munch and sip. But it does seem that the airport have bought the most uncomfortable chairs in the world, maybe they don’t want us to stay long?

The flight is late, ten minutes or so, so the ten of us on it make our way to the gate, are checked in. Again. The lead out to the plane, we can spread out and relax, that is until we take off. As the wind is still blowing quite hard, it would be an interesting take off and climb to the cruising altitude, taking off wasn’t so bad, but you could feel the plane twitching in the gusts. We bank to the north, and soon are just under the cloud cover.

As we go in, the plane lurches, it leaves my stomach some 10m above. The next one is even bigger, there is a loud bang, but we carry on climbing. And once we have broken through above the cloud, it is calm and there are no bumps. Although the ground is mostly lost from view. Except when we cross the Suffolk coast, Orford Ness is laid out like a map below. My camera is in the hold. No shots for you.

I have lunch, two coffees, an orange juice. We pass over northern Holland, and up to Denmark. Denmark is stunning, soft fluffy clouds all over the place, mottling the land below. But under some, sharp showers fall. We would get wet!

We bounce down, and taxi to the terminal. Just the nine others manage to bump and barge each other as they all try to be the first one off. Why? I am last off, I get my bag, and walk up to the terminal, go through immigration, and my bag is already waiting for collection. I am given a brand new Mitsubishi off road thing for the week. It had 9km on the clock, and was fin to drive, if a bit underpowered to be a true off roader, but was pleasant enough.

I drive up to head office, and once inside, I find there is almost no one I know hard at work. Or lounging around. In fact the who project team is missing, so I take the manager’s desk and begin work. I see some of my old team, they all seem fine, and in fact its all rather pleasant. I have a coule of meetings, and as once more just my old boss and I are the last ones working, I give up and drive to the hotel.

Thanks to the over use of the loyalty scheme, I am now presented with a small box of mixed nuts as I check in. Is it satire I wonders.

I have a couple of hours to kill before my ex-colleague, Anni is to call for me and drive me to her flat for a get together and a few drinks. So, I listen to the radio, snooze.

She is on time, as am I, which is good. They live in a top floor flat next to the Tivoli Gardens, it is very nice. As is the beer. Beer is almost always nice. But sharing drinks with friends is good. Bo tries to convince me freeform jazz is good. I am not won over, He then tried to turn me onto Steely Dan: again, I am not convinced. Little Feat were good and might be worth another listen.

Time flies and it time to go, they call me a taxi, but name is Ian I said! Oh, the old ones are always the best. Soon, a guy who seems to speak little English or Danish is taking me, at high speed, along the empty streets of Arhus to the hotel. It is midnight, and I realise as I get into my room, I left my phone at their place.

Bugger.

Tuesday 5th May 2015

Monday.

Bank Holiday Monday.

Scotland: early day closing.

And once light was over the land, we looked out and saw it was sun shine. Sunshine means one thing: orchid hunt.

And as the TV recorder thing, shall I call it a video? failed to record the football again. Maybe its getting bored. We had breakfast and went out, out into the greatness that is spring in Kent.



The task in hand, or the plan: was to visit not one, not two, but three prime orchid sites and snap the orchid on orchid action. At least on a Bank Holiday morning, the port traffic would be light, so we drive to Folkestone, then to Hythe and then up Stone Street to Petham. Or would have done if that nice farmer hadn't so nicely to please stop parking in the gateway to her field. So, we drive round to Penny Pot Lane, down through the woods to the parking place the other side of the wood. And even with an extra ten minutes of walking, this wasn't going to be a bad thing.



As on both side of the track leading into the wood, there were thousands of bluebells, all caught by the early morning sun, looking glorious. And we were the only ones to see them, the show was all for us. Down we went, and past the piles of pine logs, already cut and ready for transport, until we came to the fork in the road, and in front of us was orchid central. And this would be the most little known site, except a rather rare little butterlfy likes to live here too, and so the butterfly snappers go running about chasing the DoBs, flattening the orchids Such is life.



But it turns out to be a little too early for the butterflies, just one other snapper is about, and he has seen just one Skipper that morning. Not many Lady Orchids open, just two in fact, but looking glorious in the sunshine. We look round the site, get our shots. And it is time to head out, as orchids don't shoot themselves.



It is a 20 minute drive to the next site, along sun dappled, leafy lanes. It really is horrible what we put up with. We park at the crossroads, gather our gear and walk up the hill to the site. There were just two others there, sitting on the bench in the clearing, one declaring that this is best bench in Kent. She may be right.



I snap two Fly Orchids, a couple of Lady, a Brimstone Butterfly, then we sit down to watch the world, and to just listen to the joy of nature at high spring.



But the day is getting on, and we have one more stop before we can go home for lunch and 'other stuff'.

A short drive away is a very famous site, but all is not well. Nature has been trying to reclaim the down, and a herd of Highland Cattle are being used to control vegetation. But during the winter, the rain softened the ground, leaving it rutted and looking horrible, We are hoping that it will improve, but then all there was to show were a few very sorry looking Early Purples, and the famed Monkeys, there was no sign. They might appear soon, we hope.



I snap some shots of the Early Purples, but it feels bad, this site, I hope it looks better in a few weeks, but already it is May, and spikes of all sorts should be showing.

We drive slowly back home in time for lunch: cheese and crackers, which is very nice. The wine wasn't such a good idea though.

The day passed into afternoon, as predicted the clouds rolled in, we listened to some music, I messed around online, and then it was time for dinner; roast spring lamb, boiled Jersey Royals and veggies. It was good, simple but delicious.

The day, the weekend had once again slipped though our fingers, and outside rain began to pour. Time for the working week again, my dear.

Monday 4th May 2015

Sunday.

We woke up expecting it to be flooded outside. All week the BBC had been saying to expect a day of heavy rain. As it turned out, it was cool, overcast, and it felt that rain wasn't far off. And sure enough as I settled down to watch the footy, the heavy drizzle began and the sea mist rolled in. The football played on. Outside a variety of birds visited the feeders, like most weeks, the comings and goings in the garden turned out to be far better entertainment than what was on the TV.



Outside the rain still fell, it seemed like it was set in for the day, as my Granddad would have said. And yet, after lunch, the rain stopped, and the sky began to clear. The plan, was to visit three orchid sites, to make the most of the low sun as it was now nearly three. So, after a coffee we climbed in the car and drove to Lydden.



Along may Kent highways and byways, many small nature reserves have been created, and on one of these is a large colony of Man Orchids. I knew it was too early to see any flowering spikes, but I hoped to see some rosettes. Anyway, it was nice enough just being out in the warm spring sunshine. In fact it was glorious.

As it happened, I found many spikes already pushing their way to the sky, it will be a couple of weeks before we see any blooms.



We doubled back along the Deal road to Kingsdown, along the narrow High Street and finally to the bottom where there was just enough space at the bottom to park. The Early Spider Orchids at Kingsdown are in a cleared and maintained area. They take some finding, and as it has been quite cool, the orchids are only just pushing up their flowering spikes. After some searching I find half a dozen open, and get down to get my shots. These are darker than the ones found at Samphire Hoe, and I rather prefer these ones I have to say.



And our final port of call was at Sandwich Bay to check in on the Green Winged Orchids: although I hate the idea of having to pay to visit a site, or any area of coastline or country, the fact that these are on a private estate which is patrolled, means they are some of the best protected orchids in the country. And being late in the day, it was quite likely that we would not have to pay anyway.



But first we had to get there, along the winding narrow road from Deal to the Estate, a road which can be a pain in the arse, but is over half the distance as the main road. And as it turned out, it was a pain, but mainly after getting stuck behind a cyclist who was just doing what he was entitled to, riding along, and as there was no place to pass, I settled down behind him as he was going at 20mph, and we didn not have far to go, what was the problem? Well, the dick in the Alpha behind, who pulled out behind us as we passed the golf course club house was angry, sounding his horn that the cyclist should get out of the way. I mean he was only going a few miles, and you can only go 30 tops along there anyway.



It was some relief when I was able to get past the cyclist safely: I looked in my rear view mirror to see the Alpha driver trying to force the cyclist off the road. Like I said, a dick.

We turned off through the estate and onto the Strand. Down about half a mile, parked up. We had to wait for a party of golfers to pass before we went to look for the orchids, and soon after walking off the path we could see a few very stunted orchids. A little more searching revealed a larger colony just beside the fairway, I quickly snapped them and we moved off before we were either told to move by security or hit by flying golf balls. The light was great, and even in the stiff breeze I got some shots.

Our stomachs told us it was nearly dinner time, so we returned to the car, and this time using the main roads we drove back home.

Once back I cooked up the Cajun ribs I bought the day before, and with the pasta salad I made in the morning, we had a fine dinner in about 15 minutes. We ate whilst listening to some Wittertainment, all in all a perfect evening.

In the world of football, Chelski won the Prem, and the football world went 'meh'. Money talks, money wins. And without any class. Nuff said.