Spring Break Part I - The Travel

Hello all, sorry for the lack of posts over the past week or so, but as you can tell from the title of the new entry, I've had my first official break from work. About 10 days in total, half in the Isle of Man, half in Manchester with my parents. Rather than bore you all with one long post, I'll try to break it down into several smaller, and easily digestable, chunks.

Ok, Spring Break Part 1, The Travelling.

The first part of my journey was a pair of train trips. Southampton to Birmingham, then Birmingham to Manchester. Both trips passed fairly uneventfully, although it is a perfect way to study the psyche of the British public. Almost all long-haul train trips now come with a reserved seat, mine included. There are still people though who don't bother to use them, and sit wherever they please. The funniest thing about this is it always ends up with the person who has the seat reserved, apologising to the rogue occupant! The conversation usually goes something like:

"Excuse me. I'm really sorry but I think there's a chance you might be sitting in my seat"

"Really? I didn't see any sign"

"Oh, Sorry, there's a little screen above the seat. This is Coach C isn't it? I think you're in seat 28. Sorry"

"Oh I've moved once already"

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. erm, I'll see if I can find another seat".

Hilarious, happens over and over again :o)

A little note here to add that Birmingham New Street station is a disgrace, and the people there were arrogant, rude and obnoxious. I apologise to any genuinely nice Brummies who might read this, but the few occasions I've spent time at that station have all been times I regret.

The Ferry, ah what an adventure. Actually, It wasn't the ferry journey itself - that passed fairly routinely - it was the car journey to get to Heysham. The plan was for Dad to drive me after he finished work, at about midday. Get to Heysham in plenty of time to check in as a foot passenger for the 2:15pm sailing. But something wasn't right....

....it was Bank Holiday Weekend. The sun was out, and the route from Manchester to Heysham uses the M6 which meets up with traffic going to the Lake District AND daytippers off to Blackpool. What should have been a leisurely one hour journey was stretching towards two hours.

We arrived at the port with a screech of brakes and the faint aroma of burning tyre rubber. There had been a few dubious over-taking manouveres and the odd amber light, but it was 2.05pm and the boat was due to sail in ten minutes. I ran to check-in, put on my best puppy dog face and asked if it was too late. After a quick phone call confirming the gang-plank was still down she told me it was ok, but I'd have to run.

...Now, I assume you know what size I am, and what my fitness level is like. I did run, all the way to the gangplank, carrying an extremely heavy hold-all. I arrived at the entrance to the boat to be greeted by a smiling Steam-Packet worker.

"No need to hurry mate, we ain't sailing til half-past. Got some late cars to get on"

I was nearly physically sick with pain, and there was still 4 flights of stairs ahead of me. I got on, found a seat in the bar, drank half a pint of diet coke in less than 3 seconds and collapsed into a dripping, sweating mass.

The train home was a nice, journey. I was allocated a table, and opposite me was an old couple. I was doing his Sudoku in my head faster than he was whilst finishing off my Agatha Christie. I'm not sure if reading The 4.50 From Paddington about a murder on board a train gives off the wrong signals, but it was still a pleasant way to pass the time. I offered them a crisp when I opened my bag, which they politely refused.

....Did they offer me one of their Glacier Fruit sweets though? Did they bugger!