Post by ambersalamander on Jan 2, 2012 11:04:09 GMT
...to watch your team?
I logged in to tell the story of my festive-period adventures and noted that bh had already alluded to it, so here is the tale in its rather silly entirety.
A few years ago, medibot and myself travelled to Weston-super-Mare from Gateshead (where we'd been at a match the previous day) by taxi, aeroplane, bus, train and on foot; we then took a coach home. I've just about beaten that "number of different types of transportation used to get to a match" record ;D *
This Christmas/New Year has been a bit hectic for me, but that's another story entirely. I spent Christmas with Boyfriend and his family in Edinburgh, flew back to Luton and got a lift from a passing Bishop's Stortford fan to Boreham Wood, where Sutton were that day, then flew back for Hogmanay. Yesterday was the return fixture at Gander Green Lane. The first of January went something like this for me:
00:00 - Watch fireworks at the biggest New Year party in Europe
Drink very, very much alcohol.
03:30 approx - Bed. In Edinburgh.
05:00 - Wake up. Feel rough as Brighton beach.
05:45 - Finish morning ablutions and packing of stuff. Attempt to throw up to alleviate sicky feeling.
05:55 - Try to be very, very nice to extremely grumpy possible future father-in-law as he drives to airport. Boyfriend miraculously emerges and announces that he is accompanying us. Drink tea out of grown-up sippy cup, attempting to convince self that it is as oil on troubled waters and it's impossible to be sick while drinking tea. This is successful.
06:20 - Arrive at airport. Further attempts to vomit prove eventually successful.
07:10 - Flight departs.
08:12 - Arrive at sodding Stansted. Grope way around airport attempting to find something that will indicate what exactly is the mysterious substance I appear to be craving. Lack of success indicates that missing element may well be sleep.
08:45 - Train departs for Liverpool Street.
09:17 - Get off at Tottenham Hale on spur-of-the-moment decision. Ha ha: Tottenham, "spur" of the moment; I only just got that unintentional gag. I make myself laugh sometimes. Take Victoria Line tube. Attempt to fall asleep; fail. Train is unaccountably packed. At 9:20 on New Year's Day?! Realise people are still going home from last night. WTF.
09:50 approx - Arrive at Vauxhall. Fresh air! Say good morning London; London replies "mmmph? Huh? G'way, I'm 'sleep." Take Chessington South train.
10:10 - Arrive at Wimbledon. Get on waiting tram. Sit there for inordinately long time wondering why it isn't moving.
10:35 approx - Tram arrives at MY TRAM STOP! Walk home. Take hour nap. Unpack stuff, shower, attempt to make self look human.
13:15 approx - Walk from home in Mitcham to Morden.
13:45 approx - Get on 413 bus to Sutton's ground, annoyed at having to wait 15 mins for the stupid thing.
14:05 approx - Arrive at ground. Catch up with pals in bar but can't be bothered to drink (going out afterwards and don't want to fall asleep)
15:00 Match kicks off in torrential rain
15:28 Match abandoned due to suddenly waterlogged pitch.
450 miles, 7 hours' travel, approx £80 spent, all for 28 minutes of football whose result means nothing ;D ;D ;D
* makes bet with self that someone, probably the Sultan, will form the intention to reply with some comment about cycling, but think better of it when they read this bit
I logged in to tell the story of my festive-period adventures and noted that bh had already alluded to it, so here is the tale in its rather silly entirety.
A few years ago, medibot and myself travelled to Weston-super-Mare from Gateshead (where we'd been at a match the previous day) by taxi, aeroplane, bus, train and on foot; we then took a coach home. I've just about beaten that "number of different types of transportation used to get to a match" record ;D *
This Christmas/New Year has been a bit hectic for me, but that's another story entirely. I spent Christmas with Boyfriend and his family in Edinburgh, flew back to Luton and got a lift from a passing Bishop's Stortford fan to Boreham Wood, where Sutton were that day, then flew back for Hogmanay. Yesterday was the return fixture at Gander Green Lane. The first of January went something like this for me:
00:00 - Watch fireworks at the biggest New Year party in Europe
Drink very, very much alcohol.03:30 approx - Bed. In Edinburgh.
05:00 - Wake up. Feel rough as Brighton beach.
05:45 - Finish morning ablutions and packing of stuff. Attempt to throw up to alleviate sicky feeling.
05:55 - Try to be very, very nice to extremely grumpy possible future father-in-law as he drives to airport. Boyfriend miraculously emerges and announces that he is accompanying us. Drink tea out of grown-up sippy cup, attempting to convince self that it is as oil on troubled waters and it's impossible to be sick while drinking tea. This is successful.
06:20 - Arrive at airport. Further attempts to vomit prove eventually successful.
07:10 - Flight departs.
08:12 - Arrive at sodding Stansted. Grope way around airport attempting to find something that will indicate what exactly is the mysterious substance I appear to be craving. Lack of success indicates that missing element may well be sleep.
08:45 - Train departs for Liverpool Street.
09:17 - Get off at Tottenham Hale on spur-of-the-moment decision. Ha ha: Tottenham, "spur" of the moment; I only just got that unintentional gag. I make myself laugh sometimes. Take Victoria Line tube. Attempt to fall asleep; fail. Train is unaccountably packed. At 9:20 on New Year's Day?! Realise people are still going home from last night. WTF.
09:50 approx - Arrive at Vauxhall. Fresh air! Say good morning London; London replies "mmmph? Huh? G'way, I'm 'sleep." Take Chessington South train.
10:10 - Arrive at Wimbledon. Get on waiting tram. Sit there for inordinately long time wondering why it isn't moving.
10:35 approx - Tram arrives at MY TRAM STOP! Walk home. Take hour nap. Unpack stuff, shower, attempt to make self look human.
13:15 approx - Walk from home in Mitcham to Morden.
13:45 approx - Get on 413 bus to Sutton's ground, annoyed at having to wait 15 mins for the stupid thing.
14:05 approx - Arrive at ground. Catch up with pals in bar but can't be bothered to drink (going out afterwards and don't want to fall asleep)
15:00 Match kicks off in torrential rain
15:28 Match abandoned due to suddenly waterlogged pitch.
450 miles, 7 hours' travel, approx £80 spent, all for 28 minutes of football whose result means nothing ;D ;D ;D
* makes bet with self that someone, probably the Sultan, will form the intention to reply with some comment about cycling, but think better of it when they read this bit
