Seeing the World

Although I’ll be back, I’ve now done Anglesey and really enjoyed it.  I grinned smugly at the queues on the Britannia Bridge as I headed east on a swift and uneventful trip home.  I had pondered Snowdon and its railway.  I considered another friend in Llandudno (they seem to gather there) but in the end cloud and tiredness convinced me to head home.

As I negotiated the A55 the madness of the Easter Monday trip to watch Bristol Rovers entertain the mighty Oldham Athletic struck me.

I’ve tried genuinely hard not to make this a football blog.  Swindon away was about Stonehenge.  Northampton on a Tuesday night was about freedom to travel and a bed and breakfast now that work is done with.  Bristol Rovers is utter lunacy.

Chris can’t travel on the Sunday.  I have the excitement of oncology first thing Tuesday morning.  The idea of an overnighter with a few snaps of the Clifton Suspension Bridge is done for.  This will be about a long drive, a football match and another long drive.

Let’s just say the M6 and M5 aren’t a good idea on a bank holiday.  The three hour journey took me six hours last time I did it.  This 3pm kick off needs an early start.

We have visited the Memorial Ground previously.  A Dagenham and Redbridge player had smashed a ball into the Boundary Park crowd pre-match.  Chris, the ever efficient ballboy who once got sworn at by a Liverpool player for accidentally rolling the ball past Luis Suarez as Latics clung onto a 3-2 lead, stuck up an arm and the force of the ball broke his wrist.

Reliable Dad made him watch the match and it took his Mum to drag him to the hospital a few days later before the fracture was diagnosed.  Surgery.  Recovery.  And a special long distance away game by way of apology from Dad.  Paid for with the £100 received from BUPA for Chris having his op on the NHS.

My memories of the game are slim.  A 1-0 defeat.  Terrible performance.  And I think Chris got food poisoning at an iffy service station on the way home.  Some quality Dad and lad time.

I’m not overly worried about the result this time, despite relegation still being possible.  Getting there for kick off and having the energy to get home the same day is the bigger concern!

If I’d Been on That United Airlines Flight all This Would Never Have Happened

I have no problem with airlines overbooking flights.  No shows and late shows are an inevitability and building some slack into your business plan to allow for it is good commercial sense that helps keep fares down for the paying passenger.

Indeed, last year I booked two £9.99 Ryanair fares from Dublin to Manchester with absolutely no intention of using them.  A simple insurance policy against late arrival of our flight from Philadelphia the day before meaning we’d miss our preferred non-refundable flight back to Blighty.  The insurance wasn’t needed.  The £9.99 seats went empty, unless Ryanair deliberately overbooked.

The United Airlines situation is a little bit worrying.  I mean how shabby is it to let somebody get to their seat before trying to persuade them to get off a plane?  What on earth were the staff on the ground thinking and what ridiculous corporate pressure were they being placed under to create that situation?

As the title says, if I’d been on the plane everything would have been a lot calmer.  You see, I have my price.  And I’m cheap.  $800, a night in a hotel and a seat on a flight the next day would almost certainly have been enough to persuade me to shift my posteria off the flight deck long before the need to call the cops.  I’d have been skipping with joy high fiving the crew as I exited the plane.  Throw in some airline status and I’d probably dance naked in the concourse as I seek out the hotel for the night!

I get that there are exceptions.  If my medication was at risk of running out I might stay put.  If expensive connecting flights are at risk I’m not sticking my hand up.  If there’s a match to get to I might be less keen.

But everybody has their price.  And if $800 isn’t enough to achieve your goal simply get your Lesley Crowther lookalike steward at the front of the plane and get passengers to start a reverse bidding war where the lowest bid walks.

Or better still, start the bidding at the departure gate.  It’s far more civilised.

I’m Deaf as a Post

I only discovered that I’m deaf in my right ear on Saturday.  A generous side effect of my Bell’s palsy.

I genuinely didn’t realise.  I have no idea whether or not it’s a problem that’s been there for six months or whether it materialised as my eye became more irritated in recent days.

Either way, I’ve spent the last few days testing that ear.  If I stand somebody on that side and they talk to me it’s evidence of not having a clue what they’re saying.

There are lots of potential wisecracks for this sort of thing.  But truth be known I’m beginning to find these “minor” complaints just a little bit wearing.

Anglesey – It’s Ace

There’s a lot to be said for being an island with little in the way of built up areas.  I’ve always preferred nature to town and the sweeping beaches of this Welsh outpost are impressive, as is the seemingly endless countryside.

I’m expecting to see even more of the place today and I’m thoroughly looking forward to it.

After the Beaumaris catch up yesterday my eye played up so I lost an hour tr two before getting out to a meal in a nice restaurant overlooking the Menai Strait.  The two bridges crossing the Strait are impressive structures and I photographed my favourite above.

The evening saw me ignore Leicester’s Champions League efforts to sit under the stars in my sister’s hot tub.  As ways to relax and forget about things it was pretty good going.

Today sees me get a more detailed tour if the island before heading home.  Or I may chance my arm and sneak to extend her hospitality for the night and invoke the emergency socks and undies before heading back to Yorkshire.

There is talk of her cutting me a key and giving me access to the place whenever she’s not there.  And if I’ve not got other trips planned I’m certainly not averse to the idea.

When Your Sat Nav Doesn’t Know Where Beaumaris Is

The sat nav is a wonderful thing. Sometimes. But after getting in the car and heading to Beaumaris for a hot lunch date, with Mark and his better half, I discovered that my sat nav didn’t recognise the town. Or even the existence of Anglesey.

So I adopted a novel new navigational strategy to complete the 25 minute drive from mobile mansion to seaside tea rooms. Follow the road signs.

And it was working well until I got to the outskirts of Beaumaris to discover that although it’s too small for my sat nav, there’s a bit more there than just a castle and my tea shop meeting point.

A small sense of panic set in, not helped by oncoming traffic blocking the road. I took a random left turn and encountered a truck unloading as numerous cars overtook it, leaving me blocked in. Eventually another left turn and a gold dust disabled parking spot.

I grabbed it. Parked up. Displayed the blue badge. Reached for my phone and checked on Google Maps to find out where the tea rooms were.

“Distance 0 yards”. Eh? Baffled, I got out of my car, locked it up and spotted a lady waving at me from inside the shop I’d parked outside. Yes, I’d magically found the only parking space for miles around was right outside the agreed meeting place.

Nice chat. Nice scone. Nice little town.

Chilling in the Top Left Hand Corner of Wales and Learning How to Spell Complicated Welsh Names

Yesterday I got an education in the spelling of complex Welsh names.  There’s only one S in Anglesey.  And there’s no E in Snowdon.  A couple of long standing epic fails from a bloke who dislikes the misplaced apostrophe.

The journey from Yorkshire looked like being a tortuous one.  After loading up with 900 calories of Wetherspoons breakfast, emptying my locker at work and getting the all clear on my feet I entered the M62 smart motorway development zone.  An evil average speed limit of 50mph, narrow lanes and an actual average speed something close to the top end of that achieved by a jellyfish.

Things only got better when the M56 morphed into the A55, a dragon sign appeared at the roadside and the cruise control eased upwards to 70mph.  No faster because the Daily Mail once called the local chief constable a traffic enforcement Nazi.

A brief stop in Llandudno and I still don’t know what an Orme is before I went under some tunnels cut under the rocks that link Snowdonia to the sea.  This road is definitely new to me. Previous trips in this direction involved a tortuous winding highway that usually involved me giving up in Rhyl.  Today, I was over the Menai Strait in less than three hours driving time despite Greater Manchester.

My sister’s hut in a farmer’s field is a classy place.  Three bedrooms, surrounding , hot tub with nobody else overlooking and fully fitted kitchen.  The wifi is pretty decent too.  It’s the kind of place I might well return to for some me time when she’s not here!  There’s a key promised.

Rollng fields, skipping lambs, sea in the distance and Tesco delivery.  Naked hot tubbing if I’m so inclined too.  What more could a boy ask for?

Today I’m meeting up with yet another old boss who just happens to be on the island.  I’m still undecided on the Snowdon Mountain Railway this week as it’s busy at Easter and I get £3 off with a disabled railcard that I’ve failed to bring.  I might be better waiting for clearer weather too.

For now, relaxation.

Icelandic Rockers in the USA

Chris has a thing for the Icelandic band Kaleo.  Despite barely getting a mention in the Iclandic Rock’n’roll Museum, mainly on account of not being Bjork, they are rather good.  And as an Oldham Athletic fan he’s naturally drawn to their bluesy track “Way Down We Go”.

Yesterday saw an inquisitive message from him.  “Are we anywhere near Camden New Jersey on 11th June?” – after he explained I could sense his underlying excitement.

We’ll actually be in Ben Harbor, north of Boston.  I knew because I’d booked the hotel a couple of hours earlier.  Camden is south of New York in the heart of Springsteen country.  On a map they look remarkably close together.

Now I’m game for a random event while touring.  The rodeo in Wyoming last year was a brilliant night.  Except for the chap gored by the bull (the commentator “let’s have a look at that action again on the big screen”).  So I headed off to Google  Maps to see if Camden NJ was doable.

Nine and a half hours drive each way.  No apparent air route.  A few seconds pondering not bothering with Boston and New England at all.  It’ll only cost £70 to amend the flights and head into Newark which is in New Jersey.  A new route could get us to Camden.  But swamps, Springsteen memorabilia and the impressive New Jersey coast just didn’t appeal.  A bit of been there, done that.  So Chris misses out.

He’ll get another chance to see them.

Emptying my Locker

I’ll kick tomorrow off with a cheeky Wetherspoons breakfast before getting my dodgy feet checked out in a follow up podiatrist appointment.

Then a final act in the workplace.  My locker has sat unattended for six months.  From memory all that’s in there are a bunch of career profiles created after the numerous restructures, application forms for vacancies that long since went to somebody else and a set of headphones.

So my challenge will be saying a symbolic farewell to all those restructures by shredding everything, while harvesting the headphones which will probably live as a spare pair in one of my many travel bags.

I’ve not particularly missed working.  But this might be emotional.

After that, off to Anglessy!  No need for expensive roadside food after that breakfast!

The Driving Holiday – Hotel Booking Process

I’ve done a few of these now, but the process of self doubt, self challenge and ongoing adjustment remains the same.  This New England trip is an interesting afterthought to the excitement of cashing in the air miles for a first class fare.  But it’s taken a good three hours to fine tune the route and identify accommodation that is slightly different, sensibly priced and reasonably located.

There are still a few minor things to research too.  Not least how to get from Boston airport to the city centre, walk around for a few hours and then pick up our 23kg suitcases from our hotel and load them into a hire car before heading off into the lesser populated north!  Let’s just say the river taxi option is currently confusing me. And I’ve not told Chris the first class fare allows 3x32kg suitcases – each!

The trip itself is a mix of one night stays and two night stays.  The latter a recent addition to my driving holiday routine as loading and unloading luggage every night is a drag, even if new places can help increase the number of attractions seen.

Night one is the most expensive hotel I’ve ever paid cash for.  The only one on site at Boston airport and as it will be close to midnight local time and 5am in our heads by the time we’ve done immigration it’s just got to be done.  Fingers crossed the Hilton Gold status will trigger a promised room upgrade as well as free breakfast in return for handing over an amount resembling a mortgage deposit.

The next two nights will be in our final Hilton of the trip, a Doubletree.  Same applies on upgrades and breakfasts.  This was actually one of the cheaper locations for exploring Salem, witchcraft and other surrounding places.  Does anybody else recall David Soul starring in Salem’s Lot?

Then we go rustic as we head up the east coast.  My old friends hotels.com, cross-referencing to Tripadvisor, double checking the less rewarding Booking.com and finally googling “Bed and breakfast” in search of less commercialised accommodation led to every booking being done through hotels.com.

I tend to search for free parking, wifi, breakfast and two double beds.  One of these days I’m going to make a mistake and end up sharing a double with Chris!  Motel breakfasts are usually light affairs.  Cereal, pastries, waffles.  Adequate.  I’m usually confident of finding somewhere else serving breakfast in the USA.  Chile I’m nervous as hell about!

Indeed, night four I’ve found a $70 bargain in an area of $200 a night alternatives.  Four stars on Tripadvisor too with any negative reviews being nonsense.  No breakfast but a lakeside BBQ area.  We’ll take the room and forget the morning DIY fry up.

Next up is a two nighter where they allow pets.  That reminds me of a mediocre place (found using these same techniques) at Lake Tahoe where the dog next door went ape for hours!  Hopefully this experience will be better.

Next up is a less interesting budget chain before moving into a B&B that’s on a field in a farm.  If jet lag is still a factor cock-a-doodle bleedin’ do should be ok. This place comes highly recommended from a handful of different online resources, although Tripadvisor reviews are just ok.

A staging point between places of interest next, paid for with a free room from Hotels.com.  I’m still confident their incentives are best value most of the time even if their TopCashback commission has plummeted this year.

And on it goes.  Newport Rhode Island was a bit pricey, but a Best Western with a swimming pool half an hour drive away was great value.  And the final two nights will be on the beachfront in Provincetown staring out at the Atlantic Ocean pondering if the crowds heading out on boats to Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket are worth the effort!

All in all I’m fairly pleased with what we’ve got.  Much as I like my posh aeroplane seats and gave no objection to posh hotels, I still struggle to convince myself to pay £hundreds to sleep somewhere classy when I can get a bed and wifi somewhere nearby for a fraction of the price.

It all reminds m of the first few lines of this magnificent Eagles song:

I’ve Bottled It