By the time Thursday evening came round I was buzzing for the weekend. Me, Fish, Russell 'Class A' Colin and Adrian met up at wetherspoons in the evening for Thursday night curry club and for a few pre-shandies before the delightful 11 hour journey. I know Wetherspoons seems to get a tremendous amount of stick for its perceived poor quality food but once again it got the job done for me. I chose a lamb chettinad curry which was delicious, and all in all good value for £6.50 which including a naan bread, onion bhaji, large somosoa, bombay potatoes, poppadoms and a pint of tuborg. Microwaved, poor-quality food or not, it certainly did the trick. Although the contributions of stinky farts from myself, Fish and Russell was certainly a negative effect!
The coach from Dover to London which departed at 8PM was a rather nice one, lots of leg room, comfy seats and plenty of empty seats which gave us the luxury of stretching our legs. I spent half of the 2 and a half hour journey playing Pokemon Emerald which made me one of the more cooler, popular people on the bus. As we approached into London though I stopped playing and instead had to put up with the phone conversation of some chavvy bird sitting nearby. You know when people have to continue their personal conversation loudly and continue it no matter how annoying it is for other people? From the snippets I heard it I gathered that she was a bad mother and enjoys violence and anal sex as her hobbies.
And trust me, the 7hour45minutes journey was an absolute killer. What made it worse was the fact we made so many needless stops on the way. We got off at Weston-Super-Mare only for nobody to get on or off the coach, which is stupidly unneccessary when the tickets are pre-booked. We then made stops at Taunton and Bridgewater where 1 person apiece got off at each. Had we avoided these silly stops then we could have knocked off a couple of hours off our journey. Even the stops at Exeter and Plymouth had very little activity at them. Exeter services was a very welcome overdue stop for me. I relished the prospect of being able to stretch my legs, have a cigerrette and go for a poo. The latter was probably in the coldest conditions I have ever had one in, the building was freezing at half four in the morning!
A further tortureous 2 and a half hours later and we were finally in destination Newquay. Wooohooo! Aside from catching a rare pokemon on Pokemon Emerald, I can't think of many positives out of that journey. It was one long sleep, deprived drag that I don't want to experience again.
Upon arrival in Newquay at 7:12AM, the first natural reaction was obviously to go and find a fried brekkie to eat. First we had to meet Adrian's mate Dan from the train station, who had rather sensibly decided to get the overnight sleeper train. We then had to settle for the cafe on the station as nowhere else was open at that time. The lady serving was rude, but served us very efficient and cheap breakfasts that set us off for the day. Me and Fish had these 'medium' sized breakfasts:
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| Glad we didn't opt for larger size, this was more than enough! |
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| The three muskaqueers; Fish, Russell and Me. |
Next job coming up was finding a pub/bar to set ourselves in at. The first one we found open was the Zhi Bar, a plush bar on the seafront with a balcony. At £3.40 a pint of Carslberg it wan't cheap, but it was lovely to sit outside in the sun with great views and a beer at 10:30AM! What else was notable at that bar was Russell blocking up the toilet by busting out a hench floater, and Fish accidently spilling his beer over everyone. It was fantastic couple of hours though, drinking more beer and smoking more fags than I was hoping to. Just after Midday another car lot consisting of Sam, Tom, Kieron and some random kid called Lyle turned up to meet us and we moved onto the next pub, Walkabout, an Australian Sports bar over the road. It had some weird loyalty card system wherby one set of prices are really expensive but if you bought one of their scheme cards then you got the prices really cheap. None of us bothered buying one, instead we just kept using Adrians' mate Dan's card, which allowed us to get a pint at £2 a pop instead of 3, result!
We had to spend the next hour or so fending off students who kept pestering us to join them on a bar crawl which you had to pay £12 for. Others listened with interest but I personally think they're a rip-off and vigorously made that known to the others. I don't want to be led around by student scum trying to create articial fun. Russell and others mistook my words for arsey-ness but I was being sensible in my biased opinion.
Around 3PM we decided to check ourselves in at the hotel. I picked up my first pastie of the weekend en route, a delicious little steak and stilton number. At this point we lost Colin, who we assumed had slipped off to smoke another joint as he had been doing all weekend. It turned out he had only wandered off for a piss so we lost him for the next hour as all of our b82rez on our phone had died.
Upon arriving at the hotel we were informed that we all had to pay a £30 'behavioural deposit' which we hadn't been alerted of when ordering our tickets, which had pissed me off. As Colin was AWOL and the other two of our group were yet to arrive in Newquay we were only allowed the one 2-bedded room which was for Fish and Russell. So I set up myself a bed on their floor as they disseapeared to the beach. I didn't feel like going down with them because 1) I wanted a couple of hours kip 2) I hate sand and 3) I am too fat for the beach (you'll soon notice that there is a theme of self-pitying in my blogs). I quickly charged up my phone to get hold of Colin and he came and met me at the hotel, before paying off the behavioural deposits to get access for our room. Wooohooo! We had two small bedbunks in confined space but other than a broken toilet door, our room was rather comfortable and tidy enough. I managed to catch up an hour and a half sleep before meeting Paul "Sappo" Sansum and Jared at the busstop, still in a jaded state from my keep. Sappo had just come directly after getting a flight from Zante in the early hours, and would keep me entertained for the weekend with his funny mannerisms and bullshit stories.
I've noticed that I have been dragging on far too long with this blog and its taken me fucking ages to type this out, so I will try to be more succinct from here onwards.
The evening out was enjoyable, but also very dissapointing in many respects. Our bar inside the hotel was suprisingly really good, they gave us a free glass of beer each and the prices were very respectable (£2.50 a pint of Carlberg, £2.95 San Miguel, £2 a jaigermeister) as well as providing a pool table. So we drank a few pre-drinks there before heading to the Wetherspoons. I say 'we' but it was only me, Sappo and Jared as the others decided they wanted to go to a greek restauraunt. I didn't want to have any food because of the expence and the fact that whenever I eat before going out it makes me lose momentum, feel shit and want to go home. Luckily I weren't feeling that at all as I started to neck em back at a fast pace in the spoons. I began mixing pints of beer with those homosexual alcopops in an attempt to get me drunker and the hard work began to pay off. I began speaking a considerable amount of shit in the beer garden with Russ and Fish, attempting to be phisilophical. Fish began to feel unwell after his greek meal, thus proving me right not to go out for dinner.
The dissapointment was to come to in the club though, billed as the best and biggest that Newquay has to offer. We arrived in there at half 11 to avoid queueing, ironically to find the club still very much empty. I somehow managed to get away with not paying at I accidently unknowingly walked through the queue before the bouncer stamped my hand. RESULT! That was £6 up on what I thought I would have. But yes, the club was very dissapointing. The others eventually found us in there after we wrongly convinced them that it was the place to be. First of all, the place was an absolute cock-fest. The ratio of men to women was literally about 10:1. Every time a female was in the middle of the dancefloor a group of pervy men would flock right around them, scavenging in like pidgeons feeding on the scraps. Secondly, their idea of a foam party was an absolute joke. A cannon blasting foam lasted about 5 minutes before it ended. I was dry within half an hour. At foam parties in clubs the foam is supposed to come up about chest height in depth and difficult to breath in, which eventually lead into the females getting there boobies out. But there was none of that, and we were all left bemused at the pathetic attempt of a foam party. We left just after 2AM which was very dissapointing going. Instead, me and Jared got a KFC before heading back to the hotel room, ensuring a dissapointing end to a very enjoyable day. Maybe the bar crawl would have been a better idea after all!
Can I also finally add, despite the lack of girls in the club I honestly spotted a 10/10 in there. She was devine, absolutely backdoorable. I can still remember her beautiful face, before she was subjected to full on groping from wanker perverts.
RIGHT, FINALLY, ONTO THE FOOTBALLING DAY.
I woke up at about 8AM, feeling suprisingly fresh and ready for the football ahead. Being in Cornwall, what better way could I have started the day than having a pastie? I selected a cheese and onion one this time, devouring its sweet delicious taste. Once we all gathered by the bus stop, everybody went to get a pasty! I'm glad everybody else shared my enthusiam for the wonderful things. There were literally about a dozen pastry shops on the high-street, which made me feel like I had died and gone to
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| So many pasties, so little time :-( |
This picture is just a very small example of what they had to offer.
Once everyone pastied themselves out, we caught the 10 to 11 bus to Newquay, which cost a reasonable £4 return each. The journey however seemed to drag on for bloody ages, in the pissing rain too. Newquay to Truro is only about 18 miles but the straight journey took about 50 minutes, due to the lack of decent roads in Cornwall. Once arrived in Newquay, we settled in a nice little ale house nearby. I decided to have my first ale of the weekend, a golden number called Pirates Gold. I wish I hadn't of bothered; it was fairly rancid. Not as bad the local cider Sappo sampled though. But the time I moved onto the next pub I went back to my boring way and ordered a Carlsberg. The pub was decent and had lovely seating. The toilets were incredibly clean too until I went and bombarded the bowl with pebble dash. Sorry Lads - must of been them pasties.
Once we drank up our beers we headed off to the next pub where we met many other Dover fans that had gotten the coach up, including the likes of Phil, Chris Hunt, Sid Perkins and David Bell amongst others. Can't remember the name of the place to be honest - all I know is that it was as dear as the others at £3.50 a pint. Ouch. The one most memorable thing about the place was Russells drinking pace. I know I take the piss out of him a lot, some of it very exaggerated and unjustified. But it was ridiculous. By the time I had finished my pint he'd had only two sips out of his! He really needs to learn to pick up the pace on these football away days where you have to be quick and on the go. But he never does, bless him.
In fact he had to stay with Phil and Co as the rest of us moved onto a sports bar a few streets down, which provided the Arsenal v Liverpool game and our cheapest pint of the day at £2.60. The amount of Arsenal/Liverpool 'fans' in their 'bantering' each other was amusing to a bigot like me, but also tragic at the same time. We also met our first Truro fan(s) in there, some eccentric old boy who was wearing a Spurs shirt underneath his jacket *eye roll*. He was a friendly enough guy though and provided us with a taxi number, which we booked immedietly, thus making it a very quick pint. Kieron, who arrived a few hours later than us had to hop in the taxi with him and his friend to the ground as he had arrived late into Truro. Why? He had shagged a Chinese girl the night before on Newquay beach. Fair play to him, but it did make him the subject of lots of
After a fairly quick taxi journey up the hill, we all paid the small journey fee and made our way into the ground. I braved going in for an under 16 and it paid off, £3 instead of the four times as much I paid at Thurrock. Result! I was pleased to be welcomed by various other Dover fans who had made the long journey up and I was very impressed by our following, which I would say was somewhere in the region of 100-130. The bar was only £2.50 a pint, which enabled me to get a couple in before kick-off. It was a very pecular ground too. Behind the first goal was an unopened terrace with the bar directly behind it, which clearly needs a lot of work done behind it. On the left hand side there was a small covered stayed with no terracing which was shit, and a small seated stand next to it. The other length of the ground was two temporary uncovered seating stands, that looks very similar to Gillingscums grotty away end. And finally, behind the other goal was was a smart covered seated stand, which was the most impressive in the ground. Overall though I enjoyed its quirkiness, but it obviously needs a lot of work to be done on it.
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| A few pre-match beers in the sunshine. |
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| Frank Clarke having fun with a dolphin, very professional. |
We'd struggle to make much of noise once the game was underway. The stand was too terrible, just like a bus stop. Stands are pointless without terracing, it reminded me of Eastleigh. It didn't help that we were playing rather dogshit too. Other than a George Purcell long-range shot, I don't think we had a single other effort in the half. We were so lacklustre, beaten to every first and second-ball and let them run rings around us. It was very dissapointing, but it could of been seen coming in our first two games, and we got unstuck asgainst one of the better teams.
It didn't help that we came accross one of the worst referees and linesmen that we have done in a long while. Typically, he came from nearby Plymouth and was refering to the players by their first name. Very cosy. Every decision he gave went their way that it was painfully obvious. First of all Lee Hook had his ribs cracked after their player needlessly lunged in at him, before letting them play on and having another attempt at scoring. Hook needed to come off and bringing on Kitteridge turned out to be costly. Then Tom Wynter laughably got sent off just before half time for colliding with their attacker near the halfway line, from a ball that was drifting away from goal. What an absolute cunt. I havent watched the highlights yet because I don't want to re-live it, but I would like to hear any thoughts on it from a neutral or honest perspective.
http://www.piranfilms.com/sports_films.php
Truro then scored on about the hour mark after Kitteridge De Gea'd a weak shot, costing us a point. Truro were extremely comfortable in possession but struggled to carve out many chances, with Hayles and their other 1st choice striker both out injured. The blasted over an effort shortly after the goal but a poor game petered out without us really threatening to score at all. Bricknell headed wide from a corner but other than that I don't recall having a single shot. With or without ten or eleven men, we were second best throughout. Thats not to say that the stupid cunt of a referee didn't cost us with his poor decision making or Ross couldn't have prevented such a simple shot from finding the back of the net, but we were not good enough in any department. I'll be very concerned if we play like that against Dartford this evening as we'll be punished harder. We have to bounce back from that, and hopefully Martin Hayes' excellent team-talk will have gotten through to the players.
Yes thats right, we all managed to listen into Martin Hayes' team talk, due to the tinpot surroundings of the ground. We left via the wide entrance and found ourselves outside the changing room where the windows were left open. We listened in and were generally impressed by Martin Hayes for once, he delivered a spot on bollocking, word for word. As well as the general bollocking, he actually showed to me for once that he actually has some tactical awareness. But my favourite lines were "We've got Dartford on Tuesday. You let them take the piss last year and they're fucking shit" as well as "Everybody is telling you that you're the best set of players in the league but you've shown fucking nothing yet".
I don't think many teams will get many points from Trewey Road this season. They're strong, efficient and knock the ball around well, whilst being conniving cheating fuckers, so they have a bit of Braintree about them. Not many teams will fancy or be used to the long journey and will be caught out like we did.
I really hope we backlash tonight but I must confess I'm not particularly looking forward to it. First off I hate getting the train over and back to Herne Bay on a Tuesday evening, getting in late sucks. Secondly I'm still hurting over our feeble defeats to them last year so naturally worry that we will suffer a similar fate tonight, particularly a worry after Saturdays display. And thirdly, I have no money to spend so there will be no beer or fags to calm my nerves. I'm just praying that we pull this one out of the bag. Its bad enough that we're playing them on this early. We have 3 of our most local games within the first 5 games of the season which just doesn't make much sense, what with everybody still on Holiday therefore the crowds don't grow yet. I would rather have something shit and pressure free tonight like Staines at home, just to get it out of the way! Grrrr, never mind. But no I'm not mentally prepared for a Dover/Dartford derby tonight.
I'm not particularly keen on the Truro team, what with their immence play-acting, diving and whinging abilities, but overall I felt they were very hospitable so I will give credit to the club for that. Any club that sells pasties and ice creams in the ground deserves a pat on the back too.
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| Lovely view of Truro City, close outside the ground. |
Right after the game we trudged straight back to the bus stop in a miserable mood and looking forward to getting back into Newquay. We lost Fish and Russell due to their slow walking and they wouldn't end up getting back into the Quay until 10pm! We arrived back at around half 6, which was calling time straight for a KFC. But the time I devoured a big daddy meal I felt bloated, miserable and shit which would set a precedent for the evening. I also developed bad leg chaff, which is a horrible thing that only us clinically overweight ducklings suffer from. If you don't know what that is then good for you, but let me assure you its painful and extremely uncomfortable. It would prove to be a severe challenge just walking 10 minutes uphill to our hotel, which felt like I had just completed the marathon once I got into the hotel. All I would do for the next 2 hours was mooch around on the bed whilst the others were pre-drinking and getting ready. I just struggled to muster up any enthusiasm or energy to go out. I was virtually out on money and now stone cold sober after going quite a few hours without a drop of alcohol. I think the key to success for the others was that they had maintained drinking throughout that day and evening.
But I did eventually stick some clothes on and go downstairs to the bar, determined not to waste the weekend away. The beers in the bar actually went down rather well, but I was still not gaining any enthusiasm, even when Fish and Russell finally turned up. Around 10PM we finally ventured or chaffed our way down to Walkabout, where there was a really fucking good live band on. I'm not normally a fan of live bands, but these guys were cracking. You wouldn't have guessed so by my face though. I couldn't garner the energy to dance or sing along that much, even though the beer was still going down fairly well. It eventually got extremely busy which is when my incredibly easy ability to sweat and long queues for drinks started to annoy me. I was getting annoyed with myself, as there was some really tidy fanny in large quantities out on the Saturday night, aswell as the bar being really great or lively. But deep inside my head I knew I wanted to be in bed! Tragic, I know. I talk a good game but half the time when the going gets tough I go missing!
I still battled it out for longer though. After leaving Walkabout, we went to the beach club that I wasted £6 entry on. It was crap in there, really small dancefloor and the music was quiet. I actually preferred Karma, the club in Dover. I lasted half an hour and one drink before we decided to head out of there. While Fish, Russsell and Jared headed off to the next club, I wondered off back to the hotel with a spicy chicken pasty in tow, in typical Callum Snell fashion. A tragic and dissapointing end to a good weekend, but there was no point me staying out in the state that I was in. A worthless cause. I ended back into the hotel room just after 1AM to be greeted by Sappo, who was clearly suffering financially and physically from a lads week in Zante but being Sappo he was too proud to admit this, with all the male bravado that he displays.
So we headed away from the lovely Newquay just after 10AM, embarking on the long journey home. Prior to this I picked up my fourth and final pasty of the weekend, saving the best til last, a delicious bacon, leek and cheese combination. I'm gonna miss the wide variety of pasty combinations, thats for sure.
The journey actually went rather quickly as we got a fast direct coach from Plymouth to London, maybe because I was pokemon-ing the journey out. Some women's young child was sick all over the coach floor which was extremely unpleasant for us but luckily we had a different coach after Plymouth. As we prepared to get on at Plymouth, Russell realised that he had accidently booked his return tickets for the Saturday, so his tickets were actually invalid! What a donut. Luckily the rude coach driver eventually let him on as there were a few spare seats on the bus. For someone who is probably the most intelligent out of our group, it was incredible of him to make such a cock-up.
Once we arrived in Scumdon an hour earlier than expected, me and Sappo decided to get the train home as we have free rail travel, whilst the others left at half 7, which was exactly the time I got back into Herne Bay. Gutted! Sappo keeped me amused on the journey home with his delusional boastings about his women-pulling prowess, even though he admitted in Newquay that he has only shagged 3 birds, exactly the same number as I. Hardly a stud then.
Anyway, football and my Melt-ness aside, It was a very enjoyable pasty-fuelled weekend. Had football not provided a distraction on the Saturday then I probably would have had a great night, but it was'nt to be. All I'm worried about now is the £70 I have to last me through the next 4 games over nearly 3 weeks!
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