In Dusseldorf – once again...

There were problems and they could have upset the applecart. First, I could have missed my flight thanks to my lolling about at home, basking in time I didn't really have. It was a bit like Aviles, Spain, when I was staring at my air ticket for days without realising I'd got it all wrong. I won't bore you with the details, but the problems I encountered – which were all of my own making – are alluded to in previous posts.

So the same thing is happening. I'm upstairs, I'd even considered a haircut, but then I check my air ticket and realise I'm cutting it more than fine on getting to the airport on time. So I call my cab company and pay over the telephone using my credit card. Within five minutes a cab arrives and I'm heading to Terminal Five, Heathrow at double quick speed. And when I got there they hadn't even displayed the gate. I used the Fast Track access to security (I asked nicely, told her my dilemma, that I was running late) and soon I was flight side with a few minutes to spare before the gate was displayed, gate A17.

The view from seat 10F...

I got on the plane, took my seat (10F, the exit row, so loads more legroom than usual) and then it was just a matter of waiting for the plane to be pushed back from the jetty and off we go; except that the machine used to push the plane was a little too heavy-handed. I noticed it, but nobody else seeemed to, the judder, and soon the captain was on the intercom telling us that the plane had been jolted a little too hard and there was damage to the nose of the aircraft. With our safety in mind he decided that the plane needed to be worked on in the hangar so he found us another plane and we headed for Dusseldorf around 1730hrs – not the scheduled 1510hrs. It was fine as it gave me a chance to eat something (ciabatta with pesto and mozzarella, a cup of tea and a cookie). It also meant that I didn't spend any money on the plane. Instead I flicked through the High Life magazine, read John Simpson's column (which was on the fall of the Berlin Wall) and then skimmed through Business Life, the Shop magazine and the M&S food menu.

The flight took around 55 minutes, I sailed through passport control, took the train to the centre of town having first used the Sky Train to the airport's railway station, and then walked from Dusseldorf Hbf to the Wyndham Garden, which is alright. I nipped out for something to eat and after wandering the streets in the dark for about 15-20 minutes decided that Sofra Gastronomietetriebe on Graf-Adolf-Strasse would be alright: it was. Nothing to write home about, but just fitted the bill. I ordered Piccata di Pollo and a couple of Becks Blue (no alcohol beer) and then finished off Renegade: the lives and tales of Mark E. Smith. A great book and a truly great bloke.

The internet was down in the restaurant so I had to pay with cash (EUR22.10) which was fairly reasonable. Just as well I drew some out at the airport! I couldn't face a dessert so I left the restaurant and walked the short walk back to the hotel from where I write this blog post.

On the way back to the hotel I noticed that this weekend (29th April) is the Dusseldorf Marathon. There was a sign saying as much strapped to a pole.