Another of my interesting weekends, and I have a tale worth telling.
My intention was to go to Birmingham on Saturday on the train, watch a few bands, chat to a few people and then return the same way. It was, perhaps, a sign of things to come when the woman who sold me the ticket told me there were no trains going North and I would have to travel there by one of the coaches lined up outside the railway station.
So I ended up sat near the back of the coach to Birmingham and passed the journey by reading the newspaper etc. The teenagers in the seat behind me had a different approach to passing the time, it was some type of game where the rules seemed to involve matching numbers to the vehicles they could see through the window, depending on the outcome one of them would slap the other across the hand. They kept this up for nearly an hour and it was REALLY ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!
So if any of you ever read this, thanks for giving me the headache!!!!
Anyway when all was said and done I arrived at the venue (a small pub called the Old Wharf) a few minutes after the first band had started playing. During the afternoon / evening I met the people I intended to meet and had a nice time listening to bands etc and so what if I had too much to drink lol.
Now the day before I had checked the train times and was confident in the knowledge that the last train home left at 11:10pm and with this in mind I said my goodbyes and set off for the train station at about 10:30pm
I got to the train station, walked slowly down the entrance to each of the platforms and read the electronic information boards as I went.
None of them displayed the correct destination.
I double-backed on myself to reread them all.
None of them displayed the correct destination.
I walked round to the railway station's information service, the conversation went something like this :
"When and where is the train leaving from?"
"There isn't any more today".
"When is the next one?"
"8am tomorrow morning"
I walk off a short distance and sit down on the floor.
I get back up off the floor and return the venue and buy myself another beer.
After desperately seeking some help I try and find somewhere I can spend the night, due to the late hour not a chance!!
I take a last ditch attempt at begging some musicians for a lift or room for the night, their van is all full with equipment, not a chance!!
It comes down to a choice between hanging round the station for about eight hours (not the slightest bit tempting) or the option I picked which was catching a taxi home, the total fare was 120 quid.
I think an important lesson was learned don't you?
Adam Wilby "Traveling man" Peaceful
- 15 years, 7 months, 4 days ago