deery

I met IC on Friday evening in the pissing, pissing rain by Liverpool street station. We bust our way through the busy Tesco in order to glean some food for the journey ahead and some wine for the same reason, boarded the train and set off.

Regarding my comments a few weeks ago about trains and how they’ve improved blah, blah. I take it all back to the point of deleting said post and doing a steaming fat shit on the very idea. The thing we took to Ipswich -and, believe me, you need all the help you can when you’ve that waiting for you- was a disgrace. Even the wine and Upper Crust ham salad did little to take the edge of it. And the train was choc-full-o-cunts.

After a miserable hour we arrived at the ‘Switch but there was worse to come. If I thought the train we’d alighted was bad, the fucking thing we boarded to Beccles (Norfolk) was Hitler mothering his dog. This object was diesel powered and moved like granddad on a Sunday afternoon going for a drive over Scafell Pike, in addition it was so bumpy I was being physically ejected from my seat every two seconds for a full thirty minutes. Apart from inviting grave spinal problems the perpetual up and down-ness wasn’t helping my constitution, if it hadn’t stopped fifteen minutes before meeting Eugene at Beccles station I would’ve greeted him by screaming at his hips and vomiting over his shoes.

Instead I greeted him like a gentleman and he whisked us back to his pile in the sparsely populated hamlet where he dwells. For the second time in a month we were greeted by fine country architecture, lots of space, outbuildings (filled with all manner of toys and delights –that sounds dubious, I can assure you it’s not. It both hobby and business based) in the rich gardens in which to potter. And deafening silence save the odd passing car.

It was nine-ish by the time we settled down with his missus for freshly smoked fish (delicious to the extreme) cheeses and bread, and perhaps a spot of wine. By eleven-ish I was cunted, which wasn’t altogether my fault. I’d not been feeling right all day, neither had IC, and the following morning confirmed we both had fucking colds.

After a breakfast of kippers Eugene took us off in his car for a tour over the Norfolk Broads and we stopped off by the seaside to play the penny arcade on the pier. I manage to bag whole 12p on penny drop/drawer thingy, which I then recklessly blew. We spent a good hour on the pier, most of it on the machines therein rather than looking forlornly out to sea.

After lunch we visited Norwich, a place now so synonymous with Alan Partridge it was hard to resist screaming ‘Ah Ha!’ at shopkeepers and pedestrians. In some ways Norwich is locked in a sort of time bubble, in addition to a feast of ancient buildings it retains a sense of ‘Englishness’ that is almost disquieting. Put it this way, the word ‘multicultural’ doesn’t feature anywhere. Still, it’s very pretty and historically speaking fascinating; this aspect was helped along by Eugene who, since moving East, has acquired a vast knowledge of the city’s past.

We finished off at Norwich cathedral to admire the stained glass, fading frescos, ceiling bosses (some which seemed as far away from God as I) and a right nice rood screen an’ all, phwaor. Slightly more irksome were first hand encounters of stone statues that had been vandalised by that pus-faced prick Cromwell and his army of reformers. Twat.

Before we set off home we had a pint in a pub reputed to be the oldest in England. It was very pretty and the Adnams, a local ale, was spot on. By now IC and I weren’t feeling too clever but, after we returned back to base camp, mustered enough energy to walk a country mile from Eugene’s place to a marvellous restaurant in the village where we ate and drank handsomely. The walk back, undertaken in pitch black on a grass verge flanked by countryside and a virtually empty road, was both precarious and hilarious. The evening ending with Eugene and I sampling an excellent single malt and catching up on past times.

IC and I woke Sunday with the cold-thing in full swing. We had a lazy breakfast before being taken to the station and saying a fond farewell to our excellent hosts. The fucking bumpy train was worse than before and seemed to take an age, we then had to get a bus to the next station, change to a slightly more contemporary train, get yet another bus to the arsehole end of the Underground from where we traipsed home. Took over four bloody hours and by now we were both pike-ill. Still, it was more than worth the effort.

I’ve finally managed to clear my desk of all the office-based drivel that’s been making my weekdays a stressful misery. Since February this year I’ve been forced to meet a succession of ludicrous deadlines that have left me out of pocket and exasperated beyond compare. It’s not even as if I like the fucking work which makes stressing about it both pointless and humiliating.

But I’m not entirely stupid, there is a reason why I’ve not jacked it in, it does allow me space to do other things, and ‘other things’ seem to be starting to come together, or at least, are facing in the right direction. Unfortunately these enigmatic otherthings require time and effort as well, but it’s stuff I actually enjoy, the sort of stuff that requires me to write this shit for no money, or readers for that matter.

Chart/tune Ah Ha!

NO. ARTIST SONG TITLE Last Week Weeks On High Pos
30 You Me At Six Loverboy NE 1 30
29 The Kooks Is It Me? NE 1 29
28 Skindred ft Jacoby Shaddix Warning 17 9 3
27 The Drums Money NE 1 27
26 Hard-Fi Fire In The House 24 3 24
25 Cults Go Outside NE 1 25
24 The Fixers Swimhaus Johannesburg 26 3 24
23 Machine Head Locust 13 7 3
22 Blink 182 Up All Night NE 1 22
21 Black Keys Howlin’ For You 15 4 15
20 Two Door Cinema Club Undercover Martyn 10 6 7
19 Kids In Glass Houses Animal 21 5 19
18 Baxter Dury Claire 14 5 14
17 Foo Fighters Arlandria 22 2 17
16 Cerebral Ballzy Cutting Class 11 6 7
15 The Wombats Our Perfect Disease 18 3 15
14 Red Hot Chili Peppers ……..Rain Dance Maggie 16 6 14
13 Kasabian Days Are Forgotten 25 2 13
12 The Horrors Still Life 8 13 1
11 Bombay Bicycle Club Shuffle 28 2 11
10 The Subways We Don’t Need Money…… 19 2 10
9 She Wants Revenge Must Be The One 6 6 6
8 The Strokes Macchu Picchu 12 4 8
7 The Blackout The Storm 9 5 7
6 Mona Shooting The Moon 4 6 4
5 Bring Me The Horizon It Never Ends 7 4 5
4 Japanese Voyeurs Cry Baby 3 5 2
3 The Vaccines Norgaard 5 5 3
2 Kasabian Switchblade Smiles 2 5 2
1 All The Young Welcome Home 1 9 1