A weekend with friends

Four weeks to go...

Four weeks until the leaving party, family meal and then getting in the vehicles and starting the long drive towards Bulgaria...

Wow; when you start to think about it in those terms it really does sink in just how soon it is, just how soon my life is going to change completely and just how little time I have left (thank God) before this blog can stop talking about what I'm going to do when I leave, and start talking about what I am doing because I have left.

So this weekend, as part of my series of "for the last time" I went down to my old home town of Reading to catch up with people who I love and have been important to me over my life. I had planned on driving Thomas down and sleeping in the back of the truck as my trip was a flying visit; go down on Friday, come home on Saturday night. This plan was scotched by discovering, during the day on Friday, that my MOT had run out on Thomas and so I couldn't renew my road tax.

I was able to book him into a garage next to my work carpark for an MOT that afternoon however two very small things caused a fail and my plans had to change. I booked a train and a hotel for the evening and actually the trip down was quite comfortable; it is pleasant to be able to read while you're travelling as opposed to having to concentrate when you are driving.

Having a whiskey with Neil

I arrived, after several hours on trains, in Wokingham and walked down to the studio where I first learnt my craft as a young teenager. Neil arrived shortly afterwards and we went for a couple of pints and then a curry at a restaurant where we used to go very often, back in the day. This was such a lovely evening, it was like it hadn't been years since we had spent time together, and reinforced just how awesome it is to have met this man and become close to him. I really do hope he will come visit me out there, and I look forward to the next time I can arrange for a curry with him. Cheers Neil!

Welcomed by the TV

I was dropped by Neil at the Coppid Beech in Binfield, just round the corner from where I used to live. Indeed I did some sound engineering once in the venue at the hotel back in the day so it was another example of going back to my roots. When I got into my room I was amused to see my name on the TV welcoming me; suffice to say that the TV was turned off immediately and I started getting ready for bed.

My room

Just as I got into bed the fire alarm went off so it was back on with the clothes, grab my kindle, and out into the corridor to start exiting the hotel; before I'd got too far the alarm stopped again so all of the guests turned round and went back to their rooms. The room was lovely; really comfortable and with an opening window which is a rarity. I left the window open all night and the gales and storms blew rain in but I slept so well with the lovely fresh air and comfortable bed. Breakfast was also very tasty indeed and it was a nice moment for me to sit there quietly, on my table for one, chilling out and watching the world go by.

My next plan was to meet my oldest friend (who I have known since I was eight years old) Wardy and I booked a taxi from the hotel to take my back to Wokingham station however, when I got in, the driver warned me of gridlock due to flooding and so took me the other direction on the line to Bracknell. I really was going on a tour of my old haunts.

My oldest friend

The journey was easy and I couldn't see any flooding and it was another great pleasure to see my old friend walking towards me across the station with a hug and a welcome. Many questions about all this Bulgaria thing ensued in the car going towards his house and then I met his lovely wife and two daughters (three years old, and a few months old) and we spent an exceptionally pleasant afternoon chatting and showing pictures (he of the family, me of the school.... well what else am I going to show off!) and a lovely meal cooked by his lovely wife.

It was during the afternoon that I thought "well I'd better check the trains back" and it was a good thing that I did. It appeared that there were no trains leaving Reading and getting up to Manchester; the furthest north I could make it was Birmingham. A few phone calls and I had arranged for my long-suffering parents to pick me up, put me up, and drop me back for the 9am train the next morning. Also the meal with my best friend and his parents was moved forwards by half an hour.

Wardy dropped me over at the aforementioned friends house and we went straight out of the door to our meal at the Winning Hand. The excitement for the weekend was not over by any means as just after we arrived, as we were sitting with a drink looking at the menus, all the lights went off. Cue much confusion and concern by the staff who flicked all the trip switches they could find but to no avail. My guess is one of the phases coming into the building had died somewhere outside the building as the kitchen did still have light and power.

Best friend

So, we ate our meal by candlelight and the staff did a very good job of keeping us informed and happy (and fed - the food was excellent).

We ate without hurry but managed to get back to the station in time for an earlier train than expected which I managed to make by the skin of my teeth; I am pretty sure that they had locked the doors and unlocked them for me. I was on my way north.

The journey to Birmingham was pretty easy and I arrived on time to be met by my mother and taken to a nice warm bed for the night; better than I had planned if I was driving which involved grabbing an hour or so in the back seat of Thomas. The morning was efficient too and I was back on the platform in plenty of time for the 9am train. Which eventually pulled out of New Street at about 9.20 and then proceeded to go all around the houses and get into Manchester eventually about 1 hour 20 minutes late.

So to home and a doze off on the sofa watching France thrash Italy; a shame. I am reinforced in my hatred of public transport as it is never available at the time which is convenient for you and when you do get on it, you have to put up with noisy ignorant people (like the Wednesday fans that were singing and roaring on the trip from Reading to Birmingham) and you are dependent on other people turning up on time to drive the thing.