The Train Crawl
The Train Crawl (Saturday 18th April 2009)
Oh my, we finally got to doing it... The Oz and James approved train pub crawl. It was a fun day and I feel sorry for those who missed out. All I'll say is that there was pain on Sunday morning!
A Plan?
So, after watching the Oz and James Drink Their Way Around Britain series (or whatever it was called) and loving it, especially the bit where they do a pub crawl on the train from Dewsbury to Manchester Piccadilly, I decided that rounding up the boys and trying to do the trip ourselves would be a good idea. I'd suggested it back in January, but wanted to wait until the weather got better and Spring seemed like a good idea. Rich was busting for me to do it in February, but I thought having a bit of sun on the occasion would be a better idea (Just thought I'd get that in there). I got the victims rounded-up and Rich (whilst getting abuse, of course) got timetables together and actually tried to put some order to my "let's-just-go-and-see-how-it-flies" approach to the day.
Saturday 18th April was chosen as the big day and all we had to do was wait for it and then go for it. I did worry about my capacity for drinking for a whole day, but I thought that it'd be reet.
The "Crue" would comprise of Me, Rich, The Leg, Brad, Craig and Damo and we would go from Romiley to Piccadilly, then up to Dewsbury, working our way back through Huddersfield and Stalybridge (all stations which have real ale pubs on the platforms) to Piccadilly, then back to Romiley for curry at Indigo at 7pm. That was the plan and we'd be buggered if we'd stick to it...
Oh! What a Beautiful Morrrrrrrnin'!
The day arrived and it was a lovely sunny morning to follow a lovely sunny day on the Friday. I got up to get Kez to work and then went to Tesco for a Full English to start lining the stomach ready for the ale attack that would follow. We ran into Andy (Shakos and not O'Brien) and family in Tesco and I tried to recruit him for the trip, which failed. But that was OK. When Tesco was all sorted and I dropped Sam off at my mum's at which time I was starting to run a bit late. I swung past Craig's to see if he wanted a lift, but he was running a bit late too, so I left him to it. As it turned out, he would end up meeting us at Piccadilly station as it was easier for him to get there from Heaton Chapel.
I blasted home and Rich was parked up waiting for me. The Leg then pitched up and Rich got a brew on whilst I ran upstairs for the quickest shower I could manage. I've got have the hair washed, of course!
In the end, it seemed like a more sensible idea for Brad and Damo to meet at the end of our road since it was a quicker walk to Bredbury station. So we did that, after watching the immortal Rockmen video on a DVD that Rich put together, for five minutes. We met the boys at the end of the road and traipsed off with much gusto to start the journey and the piss-taking proper.
We each spent about thirteen quid on an open return to Dewsbury from Romiley (as we'd be going back there and not Bredbury) and wandered over to the platform. We would miss the train we really wanted to get (12.27pm to Dewsbury), but since those trains were every half hour, we still had plenty of time to get rocking. Craig called us on the train and we finally got to Piccadilly and met up and started the boozing with a Peroni at the Piccadilly bar.
At this point, Andy suggested we start a kitty for the day and since he seemed like the best person for the job, he gathered an initial twenty quid from each of us and the fun began.
Are We There Yet?
We wandered off to Platform 3 and got on the train. We were split across two tables as the train was pretty busy, but this was cool. Brad, Rich (with his papers) and Craig took one table and me, The Leg and Damo took the other... and off we went. The journey was nice and we all chin-wagged about Iron Maiden and the usual crap. It probably took about 25 minutes to get up to Dewsbury (sorry, Der-yows-bur-ey) and the sun stayed out all the way, even though we were starting to travel through darkest Yorkshire.
We got off at Dewsbury Station and headed over the bridge to the return platform to the waiting pub. There were plenty of people in there and a lot of rugby fans. The Leg had informed us that there was a big match on today with two of the Yorkshire teams playing, so there were a lot of people out. We noticed the the jukebox was playing "Chinese Democracy" as we were at the bar as Andy took the orders, so we got a table and I put some dosh in to get some tunes on. I was a bit disappointed with the choice, but still got some choice Zep on to get the ale moving. There were plenty of posters on the wall offering the Oz and James book for sale and notes pointing out that this pub was part of that series. We also noticed the sausage butties on sale, so we thought it best to get a round of them in too!
We got a table and relaxed into the beer. At this point, I'd love to start pointing out the names of the ales that we sampled and make notes on the tastes, but I can't remember about a great deal about any of that, I'm afraid. I will say that I did sample some really good tasting beer though and I'm sure that Rich will be able to give me some info on that at some point. Anyway, I'm sure you're not bothered about reading about that and you'd muchrather me write fourteen paragraphs about how much of a mincer Brad was!
At this point, we noticed Shaun's twin. Shaun and Brrrrrn had a gig scheduled for that night (more about this in a minute) so they couldn't come out for the day. But we saw this bloke who was a dead-ringer for Mr Bradley, only a bit shorter and squatter. It was uncanny. I tried to take a photo of him, but I couldn't do it descretely enough. Also, since Shaun was possibly sending his drone as a palantir-like object to keep an eye on his minions, I was also afraid of angering the dark wizard and having his wrath sent upon me.
I'd also like to point out that it was me who knocked over the first pint pot. It truly was an accident, even if some of them would reckon it was a ploy to get the next drink in, but it wasn't!
Time passed quick in the first pub and it was soon time to jump up and get on the next train... Which is what we did. Shaun's clone army drone was on the platform hanging round watching us take stupid photos so we felt OK. The first train was not the right one, but that was cool as I think we all needed to syphon the pythons before another train ride. I'm sure you really wanted to know that.
Next Stop; Skid Row
We stood up on the train to the next pub and I knew the day was going well as The Leg and I started a conversation about Lynch Mob and it wasn't even tea-time yet. The Leg had another unsteady gravity moment to uphold his reputation. All good stuff.
The Huddersfield pub was a wierd rambling maze-like building with three different bars offering different ales on each. The bar was busy at this point, so we got two pints in each at this point. This is where the skid-inducing (apparently) Samuel Smith ale came into play. I got a Black Sheep here and an SS and we retired to a games room (which was more like a corridor) which was nice and quiet to relax and have a drink. I fed the vintage arcade game table and had a grand old time as Rich started to try and fix the dodgy screen by bashing it. The beer was going down nicely by now and we'd all relaxed into the day. This was very evident as Damo did his Stan Laurel impression for us.
So there we were, boozing away and considering a change of plan for later on. We were now far on enough to suggest that we were thinking that we might not go to Romiley after all, but go to Marple and catch the Tumblin' Dice gig so we could sit at the back and behave like school boys. But before this, there was more drinking to be done.
Da Crue!
Stalybridge; With it's Staly-Bridge!
The run to the next station was like getting onto a sheep lorry and we were packed in good and tight. There were a lot of people seemingly on here from the beer route, although we did seem to lose site of the clone at this point. There was lots of banter on route with some wag putting a few little stickers in my hair, kids today. The conductor bloke shied away from coming in to check tickets and I don't blame him as ours was a lairy lot.
The Stalybridge pub was smaller, but still pretty nice. Most people were taking advantage of the excellent weather and standing on the platform to have their drinks. We thought we'd do the same. At this point, I've no clue what I was drinking, I hasten to add. It tasted damn good though, which is the important thing. It was by this point that we decided that Marple Brige it would be and we made the plans to get back there. We decided to knock another stop at the Piccadilly bar on the head and get back to Marple Bridge and the Chinese next door to the Norfolk Arms (the venue and scene of The Rockmen's "triumph" last year - almost a year to the day) for some scran and then straight to the gig after that. We got supped and ran over to the train.
A Bridge Too Far
The journey to Marple Bridge from Stalybridge is a little hazy, I must admit. We took it for granted that no one would check our tickets and that we'd get an extra stop out of them for our trouble. Then again, we did pay for an extra stop in the morning! We did end up having a rather daft conversation with two boozers on the Manchester to Marple train though. Lord knows what we were blathering on about but I'm sure it involved us all taking the mickey out of the other. There was also some prize mugging going on at the Piccadilly platform before we got on the train.
We disembarked in Marple Bridge and stopped off at the Bridge pub (I can never remember it's proper name although it's probably "The Bridge" or something like) for a pint there and a chinwag. We were all in fine form and no one was feeling like going home just yet, so we carried out the plan and went on to the Chinese for some tea. I've probably upset the gentlemen at Indigo for not cancelling the table, but I promise to apologise next time I'm in there.
The Chinese was interesting with someone doing a good old sweary-poo's at the table, causing someone to get up and ask us to tone it down. I thought it was Rich, but then someone said it was Damo. Lord knows who it was, but as soon as the food came to the table, we were all silent for ten minutes whilst we cleaned our plates. We were a bunch of giggling boys by this point, as you'd expect. Another great surprise at this point was the amount of kitty money that was left. We were able to pay for dinner on it which was good. I think we only added another couple of tenners each to the pot during the day, so as and when we do it all again, Andy will be Kitty-Man once more!
Band on the Run
So with dinner eaten and bills paid, we left the Chinese and went next door. We were all ready for some supreme piss-taking at Shaun and Brrrn's expense, and with quips ready for launch, we strode into an empty pub with no band in it. We scratched out heads and checked we were in the right pub and looked again. No Tumblin' Dice. The gig was off. Great.
I think Andy tried to get hold of MrB to find out where the hell him and his band were but I don't think he got any reply. All's we knew was that we were in a pretty-much empty boozer in Marple Bridge feeling a bit miffed that we'd made the effort to get down there and there was no f*cker there to entertain us.
We nursed out pints and decided to jump in a cab back to Romiley and into the Friendship to finish the evening off. I should have probably suggested we go back to Castle Grayskull for some Guitar Hero, but we went to the pub instead and stayed in there until lord knows when... Probably about 2am although I've no idea. We fed the jukebox (wired up to the internet so I could play dirty Rush tunes all night) and I switched to whiskey.
By this point, Craig was sorting out his ride home and Damo was falling asleep on his stool. Rich, The Leg, Brad and I were still going strong though, which was good. The Leg, who had been in fine form all day seemed to be at his pissed-up best and I was impressing myself by not talking total crap (just a bit of crap) and I didn't fall over once all day.
Last Orders
Brad called it a day and we finished off our drinks whilst we talked to one of the guitar players out of one of Brad's other bands as they were starting to attempt to chuck people out. I think that Andy was gutted that he couldn't get a kebab at this point. I remember a long conversation about it at one point. But when we got in, we had some food from somewhere and I necked down two or three pints of Vimto. The next thing I remember about Andy was that he was tucked up in his sleeping bag on the living room floor snoring like a good'un.
Rich turned in too and I went upstairs to get sorted for bed. Kez was still awake and reading her Edward books after watching "Twilight" again on DVD. For me, lights out was at about 3am and I didn't feel too bad as I fell asleep, but this would be a different story in the morning!
Arse and Liver Transplant Anyone?
I woke up with real pain in the gut and a serious booze sweat on. This was at Sam's waking hour of about 7.30am. Nasty business. To give the short-form, the sluices opened at both ends, but I had a cup of tea, an hour's extra kip and I was back in business, although I did miss Andy leaving to get home of which I texted the man to apologise later on. Rich hung around for a bit so I saw him before he set off back to Derby. A bacon and sausage butty washed down with another brew saw me right though so that was good.
All in all, the day was a fantastic success and I reckon another adventure should be planned for the near future. It was a great fun day out with great weather and a good crowd and I think we all had a great day, even if the Marple Bridge experience was a pain in the arse. I'd heartily recommend anyone taking the trip themselves and I know that Rich has already said we should do it again.
So there it is... The day were reet gradely!
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