First day
Arrived at the station on time to find out that someone had stolen the electrical signal cables at Clay Cross. Perhaps they would have not need to if Thatcher hadn't closed the mines in area.
So we started our 15,000 mile journey to Australia by catching the train to Cleethorpes and changing at Doncaster. To make things even worse the train was infected by a group of foul mouth West Bromwich supporters who constantly reminded me why I am leaving this cultureless country. God bless Thatcher and Blair for lining their pockets at the expense of education and transport. This journey of lifetime couldn't have had a poorer start.
We were told to catch any London bound train by the porters in Sheffield. When we arrived at Doncaster chaos ensued, we were shunted from one platform to another as train after train failed to materialise. Eventually we bordered the 14.35 to Kings Cross just to be told via the train intercom to leave the train. When we made our way back to the platform an irate porter told everyone (literally hundreds of people) to get back on the train and ignore any further instructions. Phew! On the bright side of things we bonded with a couple nice people. Anne even wished they were coming with us but sadly they were not. Had an interesting conversation with one of these nice people as I ordered food. While waiting for my order of cappuccino, a can of Stella and cheese and ham and egg and Red Leicester toasties we attempted to calculate the cost using, signs, body language and facial expressions. His estimate of 26 pounds was slightly more expensive than my meagre 11 pounds. A couple minutes later I was relieved to pay 12 pound 10 pence. Anne, looking over my shoulder, has just chastised me for writing such content, being convinced, no one will be interested in such trivia.
Found our way to Chris and Jo's, had a lovely meal before making our way firstly to The Ilford Spoon and the then to the highlight of the first the day:the Ilford Catholic Club for of course, a couple of pints of Guiness or the latest gossip about the community and finally the all important raffle which fortunately we did not win: a joint of meat for Sunday dinner.
Finally went to bed about 12.45 am well inebriated, tired and very, very happy.
Arrived at the station on time to find out that someone had stolen the electrical signal cables at Clay Cross. Perhaps they would have not need to if Thatcher hadn't closed the mines in area.
So we started our 15,000 mile journey to Australia by catching the train to Cleethorpes and changing at Doncaster. To make things even worse the train was infected by a group of foul mouth West Bromwich supporters who constantly reminded me why I am leaving this cultureless country. God bless Thatcher and Blair for lining their pockets at the expense of education and transport. This journey of lifetime couldn't have had a poorer start.
We were told to catch any London bound train by the porters in Sheffield. When we arrived at Doncaster chaos ensued, we were shunted from one platform to another as train after train failed to materialise. Eventually we bordered the 14.35 to Kings Cross just to be told via the train intercom to leave the train. When we made our way back to the platform an irate porter told everyone (literally hundreds of people) to get back on the train and ignore any further instructions. Phew! On the bright side of things we bonded with a couple nice people. Anne even wished they were coming with us but sadly they were not. Had an interesting conversation with one of these nice people as I ordered food. While waiting for my order of cappuccino, a can of Stella and cheese and ham and egg and Red Leicester toasties we attempted to calculate the cost using, signs, body language and facial expressions. His estimate of 26 pounds was slightly more expensive than my meagre 11 pounds. A couple minutes later I was relieved to pay 12 pound 10 pence. Anne, looking over my shoulder, has just chastised me for writing such content, being convinced, no one will be interested in such trivia.
Found our way to Chris and Jo's, had a lovely meal before making our way firstly to The Ilford Spoon and the then to the highlight of the first the day:the Ilford Catholic Club for of course, a couple of pints of Guiness or the latest gossip about the community and finally the all important raffle which fortunately we did not win: a joint of meat for Sunday dinner.
Finally went to bed about 12.45 am well inebriated, tired and very, very happy.
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