General - From a Hotel Room in Preston
Work has taken me to Norwich and Preston over the last two days. I am meeting up with the two Dolphin Daves to grab some breakfast shortly if our plans come off. My hotel is just on the corner of church street and as the show will be held in the Minster this is a rather useful bit of planning on my part IMHO.
I didn’t get in to Preston last night until 6 past 10 so took a taxi to the hotel dropped off my baggage and had the driver take me to the fox at which point I purchased a quick half. I then tried a half in the New Britannia and lastly a pint in the D and P before heading off to the King for the finest Curry I’ve eaten since the last time it was my pleasure to scoff in that fine establishment. Hunger was belting hard as the only things to pass my lips all day were a glass or two of water, a cup of tea, small piece of chocolate cake donated by those good people at Norwich rehab and a chicken sandwich from Tesco. It can be hard finding food when the diary for a particular day does not allow time for snuffling around stations in order to find a processed bit of nastiness to fill up on. This is exacerbated when the prat pushing a trolley up and down a train does not have change and is ultra unhelpful. Jaid and I did just over 8 and a half hours travel yesterday which is possibly a record to date on my Humanware job. It was our misfortune to sit next to a drunken Scottish lady on her way back to Blackpool on the last leg of the journey. I was sitting in a 4 block, you know the kind in witch you have two seats facing each other? Anyhow it was Jaid and I plus a youngish bloke finishing work plus this hag and another dood over from Denmark for the weekend. Well, first this old wench latched on to me because of the dog and after the cold shoulder decided that our European friend was the next target of her drivel. The poor bloke really did not know what had hit him and eventually was rescued by the other gentleman. She was a proper mentalist and ranted and raved for the 45 minutes or so from Manchester to Preston and I’m sure was on the verge of spilling her guts over us. We did get a good misting of saliva spray in any case.
We will inevitably find our way round Preston this eve and as they say ‘paint the town red’ Who’s is that saying anyway?
It looks like my last big dining occasion with friends in Epsom will be a Christmas dinner in the Rising Sun. A little early, but the menu is fantastic and I shall post it on this blog when I get back home and scan the bugger. I'm obsessed with my gut. I'll be like a bloody rugby ball at this rate!
I didn’t get in to Preston last night until 6 past 10 so took a taxi to the hotel dropped off my baggage and had the driver take me to the fox at which point I purchased a quick half. I then tried a half in the New Britannia and lastly a pint in the D and P before heading off to the King for the finest Curry I’ve eaten since the last time it was my pleasure to scoff in that fine establishment. Hunger was belting hard as the only things to pass my lips all day were a glass or two of water, a cup of tea, small piece of chocolate cake donated by those good people at Norwich rehab and a chicken sandwich from Tesco. It can be hard finding food when the diary for a particular day does not allow time for snuffling around stations in order to find a processed bit of nastiness to fill up on. This is exacerbated when the prat pushing a trolley up and down a train does not have change and is ultra unhelpful. Jaid and I did just over 8 and a half hours travel yesterday which is possibly a record to date on my Humanware job. It was our misfortune to sit next to a drunken Scottish lady on her way back to Blackpool on the last leg of the journey. I was sitting in a 4 block, you know the kind in witch you have two seats facing each other? Anyhow it was Jaid and I plus a youngish bloke finishing work plus this hag and another dood over from Denmark for the weekend. Well, first this old wench latched on to me because of the dog and after the cold shoulder decided that our European friend was the next target of her drivel. The poor bloke really did not know what had hit him and eventually was rescued by the other gentleman. She was a proper mentalist and ranted and raved for the 45 minutes or so from Manchester to Preston and I’m sure was on the verge of spilling her guts over us. We did get a good misting of saliva spray in any case.
We will inevitably find our way round Preston this eve and as they say ‘paint the town red’ Who’s is that saying anyway?
It looks like my last big dining occasion with friends in Epsom will be a Christmas dinner in the Rising Sun. A little early, but the menu is fantastic and I shall post it on this blog when I get back home and scan the bugger. I'm obsessed with my gut. I'll be like a bloody rugby ball at this rate!
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