Grimsby in mist

I never thought I’d be so happy to be in Grimsby.

A slow morning in Brighton but out before the traffic wardens and up to Woking, just to be certain that the load I had to carry was too big for the car. Worth the check but it was and then the van hire in Woking wouldn’t let me rent without a hard copy of my driving licence so Woking to Croydon where they have got me on the system at Ace.

Back to Woking now dressed in a white van, and loading up a load of props to go to Aylesbury. Everything goes swimmingly and soon enough I’m heading back to Croydon but it’s just a long way. I drop the van off and it’s like I’ve only just left. “How the hell did you do 150 miles?” he asks. “I haven’t stopped. Can I use the loo?” I’m staring down the tunnel of considerably more than 150 miles to go. First I drive home. And stop. It’s half four in the afternoon. I give it until half seven. Four hours to Grimsby, I think. “I’ll be there by midnight.”

Fat chance. It’s 1.20am. They kept closing the roads, which of course the satnav didn’t know about so I was following diversion signs as it’s not a drive I know, and the hours were ticking out. And the fog came down as soon as I was north of Cambridge. Virtually no other cars on the road but if I put my beams on I was blinded and if I had them dipped I could see about three foot in front of me. Over two hours like that bobbling through tiny little villages in the North East because they’ve closed the main road in THREE SEPARATE PLACES on my route.

I’m here now. I’ll be awake again in no time. The room is big, faceless cold and empty and it smells of damp. The fog is sneaking in through the window edges. I’ll have to rush out of this area once I’m done, so there’s no time to discover the better side of Grimsby. Not much time to do anything right now but sleep and then corral a room full of young people tomorrow in an unfamiliar town. At least I get breakfast. I have to remember though that I signed up for the random here. I said a yes when I could have said a no. I have nobody to blame but myself for biting off about as much as I can chew.

They give me mileage. I’m gonna go over my Google location history and invoice it precisely because that was one hell of a schlep. I’m exhausted. This bed actually looks inviting right now. Oh the joys of Premier Inn pillows. At least I can spread out and snore. Hopefully the shower works…

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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