Are we nearly there yet?

We left from Blackpool Coach Station or more precisely just outside it because of the skips that the Council had used to block the entrance. ‘They do it every Christmas’ our driver told us as we boarded. ‘It’s to stop the Gypsies camping, those bastards spoil it for everyone’. ‘One of them has a £300,000 house but sleeps in a caravan’ added one of the Cruising Klan in the front seats ‘they don’t go to school you know, they send the kids to ASDA to learn how to thieve’ said another. We chose a seat well down the coach. I hadn’t had time to buy my Mail on Sunday but I felt fairly certain that I’d be able to borrow a copy later.

There were only a few passengers from Blackpool and Preston and so we had to get on the North Wales coach at Knutsford. They had been waiting for us so we left straight away without a comfort break. Our new driver reluctantly explained that there was a WATER closet at the back that was for EMERGENCIES. From his tone we were left in no doubt that any emergency had to be life threatening and that anyone foolish enough to attempt No 2’s would have to complete the rest of the journey on foot.

We didn’t stop again until Warwick services, which presumably do the best backhanders, so we decided to go for the all day breakfast. They had a different counter for each hot meal so that you could get them quickly before you joined the long queue for the coffee and cashiers. It’s probably a health and safety thing about not carrying hot food in a dining area.

Back on the coach I decided to get out the laptop and watch Minority Report on DVD. Who invented shiny screens on laptops? All I could see when the sun came out was a reflection of my belly button. It made the story hard to follow and, as a metaphor for Tom Cruise, it was the wrong part of my anatomy. More distracting however was that, no matter how far I screwed the phones into my ears. I could still hear the conversation from the seat behind.

The women in the seat behind talked at each other in droning monotones. After a while strangling the life out of them seemed to be a perfectly responsible course of action. They reminded me of bagpipe players but not for the noise. They sort of filled themselves up with air and then words came tumbling out. All they could do was to try to aim some of the words at the current subject. Together they could have dispensed with the need for Guantanemo Bay. Strap a terrorist to a chair and then let those two sit behind with a nice pot of tea. No one could resist for more than a couple of hours. ‘Osama Bin Laden, third cave on the left, I’ve jotted down his postcode and mobile number’

We arrived at Southampton about 2pm which was pretty good and even better we got on to the Oriana and into our cabin in record time. Most of our luggage joined us soon after. The one that didn’t contained a rolled up coat and lots of wires and batteries from chargers, adapters and so on. We were still listening for the sound of a controlled explosion when we sailed.

The case turned up and the Bay of Biscay is relatively calm – more shortly.

Dave xx