Posted by littlenic on Fri 19 Mar 10, 7:36 PM to littlenic's blog.
Egads, gadzooks, oi moi, pheu pheu, o talain'ego.
(For those of you not au fait with Ancient Greek epithets of woe, ignore the last three of those.)
It's Friday night at almost 7.30 - and I haven't sorted out tomorrow's adventure yet!
I won't be too harsh on myself - this weekend is one of those 'sandwich' ones, where I've been away (oh, the joy of hitting the M4/M25 junction at precisely 5pm on a wet Friday) and am going away again on Sunday. So I kinda was working on the premise I'd just want to chill this weekend.
But no. If anything, the prospect of the week to come sitting in a hotel room from 3pm every day (my courses are coming in short) means I really want to make the most of my weekend.
And yes, I have some telly to watch (though I shall be ever so surprised if anything can beat the stirring stuff that was Mythbusters two weeks ago, when they made a man out of a skeleton stuffed and surrounded with pork then put him on the bottom of the ocean and cut his pressure line - cue meatman in helmet squish shocker, fanfuckingtastic).
And my new ukelele books have arrived, so that will lend a little variety to my practice (though I can't tell you how annoyed I am that Creep by Radiohead features the chord that is currently making me cry with frustration because it comes out plink, not twang).
But... there's time for that *and* to get out and about.
And so I let my mind drift in the car (possibly naughty) and tried to work out what I fancied. And shocked myself by wanting to go to a fair. Sadly, I think I'm a couple of weeks early - I guess Thorpe Park et al open at Easter, rather than now.
But fairs aren't really my thing - I'm terrified of heights, which scuppers most rides. And yet for ages I've had a yearning to go to a regular fair, you know, the travelling kind that rocks up on a field near you and makes you think, sheesh, you wouldn't get me on that big swirly thing if my life depended on it, for fear the bolts haven't been tightened quite sufficiently and I end up getting hurled in my little pod into the centre of the next town.
(Just me then?)
Okay, I'll confess - I also want a chap to attempt to win me a giant fluffy Spongebob by hooking a duck. Or something. But that's just for entertainment value, really. 
Aaaaanyway... in the absence of a time machine to get Thorpe Park open, and as I'm not in Nevada (sadly) and so Circus Circus is too far to drive, and I've got a feeling your average seaside town might just be too grotty for words on a dank March weekend, I shall shelve this particular adventure for another day (must be more fun in the sunshine anyway).
And have a think about what else I can do. Hampton Court Palace maybe - ridiculous to the sublime.
Whatever adventures this weekend has in store for you - enjoy!
| 19 Mar 10, 7:48 PM El_Presidente UK(G), 4 yrs      |
Are you sure you're not just after being kidnapped and dragged off to a trailer to be abused by some rough-arse carnies? "Never do today what you can do tomorrow" | |
| 19 Mar 10, 8:03 PM littlenic 5 yrs |
Arse. Am I that transparent? (It's looking like Science Museum ftw, btw. Too many space exhibits - including possibly popping my Imax cherry - to resist. Well, providing I can manouevre my arse out of bed, that is.)
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| 19 Mar 10, 8:17 PM bloodlineS UK(SK), 8 yrs |
Skeleton you say? Why that reminds me of a time many moons ago whence I did catch a train to Manchester and looking at the boards and sipping a coffee hot enough to burn skin from my mouth my eyes did alight on a destination named Edale. Perfect I thought for it is known for local beauty and a pub where you can wear your muddy shoes. Purchasing a ticket I ran to the the platform and jumped aboard the train in a hurry to be off! Twenty three minutes later and the train did beggin a chugging and we were on the way. As we pulled out of Manchester the views soon changed from busy cities to busy towns and finally to the glorious countryside of England. Isn't this beautiful I said to the inebriated drunk who had alighted next to me, he was non-committal in response but I continued to wax lyrical about the sights we were passing. He commented that I might be a touch light in the head and I told him I appreciated his sly humour. Edale! Came the announcement from the chirpy conductor, a thankyou good sir I said and leaped from the train skipping down the hill from the station to the road below before settling into a good walking pace. Down the road and through the village, past the post office and the pub with an entrance for hikers and one for locals and onto the walk itself. Some kind of losing paving stones had been a laid out in a rough path over field and I did wonder what initiative had done this? Some local council move to protect the field perhaps, or a similar gesture from the Natural Trust? Sadly no handy plaque was in evidence and I was to be none the wiser. Coming back from my walk the local pub called out to me, which was quite strange as I had not as yet seen a talking building before but I bit down my trepidation at walking in the door which now had the unlikely aspect of being its mouth and ordered a ham and mustard sandwich from the local barkeep with a mug of black coffee to keep me alert. The humble barkeep did making with the drink, told me not to call her humble and bade me sit down to await my sandwich. It arrived a prompt forty minutes later and was a treasure to behold. Truly I tell you a sandwich such as this is seldom found upon our gentle isles. Too often do we take the penury offered by the Tescos and the Sainsburys of our world that we forget that true greatness can still be achieved when men and women of good caliber put their mind to the task and shoulder to the grindstone. Needless to say the tip I left would surely change their lives for ever, forty minutes for a sandwich said the tip? Next time try not making the mustard to order. Toot toot went the train and I was off like a shot, running up the platform stairs a further cheery conductor did aspy me and gave me an encouraging wave which was perhaps slightly unkind as the train was already a moving and several meters beyond the platform edge. Admiring his wit and giving him a single fingured wave I settled down to read my book, a smashing piece I'd oft read by one of my favourite authors. The poor chap had the bad luck to be american however and when I started the next chapter I howled with laughter for he misspelt "skellington" having put "skeleton" instead. And your post reminded me of this day. | |
| 19 Mar 10, 8:33 PM littlenic 5 yrs |
Man, your days out sound just as weird as mine... No. Weirder. | |
| 20 Mar 10, 9:08 AM LadyEmmaCavendish UK(N), 8 yrs |
What about the trocadero? Lady Emma | |
| 20 Mar 10, 9:25 AM littlenic 5 yrs |
Oooh, do they still have rides there? I'm sure last time I went it was all a bit dilapidated. I miss Metroland. Even that has closed down these days, but back in my Uni days it was quite fun for a gang of us to trek over and spend an afternoon on the pirate ship.
I'm off to learn stuff in South Kensington. |
