Road Trip!

The new year is hurtling on at an alarming pace, but like it or not, we're very much in 2013.
Twen-ty Thir-teen. It's a weird one isn't it? Twothousandandthirteen sounds frankly rdiculous. For the superstitious among us, perhaps TwentyFourteenminusOne is preferable? Or if we're feeling trendy, 2k13 innit. When in Rome, perhaps a spot o' Latin MMXIIIQRSTUVWXYZ, or something.

Anyway, I digress. I'd like to introduce you to the sister page of my rant-blog, captainfuntimes. She's rather lovely I think. I hope you'll like her. Captainfuntimes and I would like to introduce you to captainfuntimesontheroad (the name's a work-out in itself!) She (and yes, she will be referred to in the third person pronoun) is here to tell you all about my gap year exploits. She will be taking you on an exhilarating trip to Thailand, Singapore, Australia, The Himalayas, Madagascar, Peru and The Caribbean...
I wish.
The truth is, I've become rather complacent over the first 4 months of my Gap Yah, and it doesn't look as though I'll be taking on the world yet. However, I have had countless trips around England, and I plan to have countless more, which, if I achieve something of interest, will be documented here! I'd love to do a post on my recent visit to Amsterdam. Maybe one day I will. But for now, what happens in The 'Dam, stays in The 'Dam. Stay in school, kids.

You smile, I'll watch the road...

I have just returned, fully alive and un-maimed, from my first road trip with my partner in crime, Hannah. On Thursday morning we packed our worldly belongings into the back of Gordon the Green Golf, and Hannah, Gordon, Samantha the Satnav and I set off on a whirlwind adventure up the M6. After taking out a mortgage to pay for the toll, we settled down into the slow lane, nestled comfortably in between two lorries; one of which, we were delighted to see, had 'Meat Packers' adorning its sides. Oh how we laughed. We lasted about an hour before deciding it would be an excellent idea to don our Where's Wally hats. Just for the gags, you know how it is...ahem. I put Hannah's on for her, to enable her to keep both hands on the steering wheel. Safety first! We looked bloody fabulous. So fabulous, in fact, that we felt it needed sharing with Facebook. 5 attempts later, we had the money shot. 


On arriving in Chester, we took the scenic route around the houses after mis-interpreting Samantha's instructions and ignoring the signs for 'Chester City Centre'. Nonetheless, we made it, and lived to sing Evensong at Chester Cathedral, which, despite the antarctic climate and lack of refreshments, was lovely! The next task that faced us was taking Gordon to the car-park of The Pied Bull, where we were staying. How hard could it be? If, like us, you have the combined directional aptitude of two blind toddlers after a game of dizzy dinosaurs, it's quite hard. After driving the wrong way around the multi-story car-park, we eventually found our way out and turned right, towards the B&B. SHIT, it's one-way, turn round, TURN ROUND. Hannah skilfully manoeuvered the car in the correct direction. Forgetting that, although bloody miles away, Chester isn't abroad, we somehow ended up on the right hand side of the road. After three laps around the block, an accidental trip down the Bus-Only lane, and a phone call to the B&B for directions interrupted by 'fuck, nope, that's one-way as well, and this guy's not going to stop' we made it. Slightly terrified, but still unharmed. "Hello, we'd just like to check into our twin room. Yes, that's right, our twin room, because we ARE NOT LESBIANS." I think our commendable subtlety convinced the lady on reception that there would most certainly not be any funny business. To celebrate our success in not dying, we planned a hardcore night out on the razz. But 3 days of heinously early starts for work had somewhat taken it out of us, and after a couple of pints we retired to our twin room for a cup of tea and David Attenborough. We know how to partay.


Our second day was occupied not by sight-seeing, but shopping...and taking photographs dressed as Where's Wally in various public places. That evening we were ready for the sub-zero cathedral, and clad in 3 pairs of tights we embarked on our second and final evensong, which, if I do say so myself, went swimmingly! After a couple of post-service drinkies, we gorged our body-weight in pub-grub, before heading out to see what Chester had to offer us. Not a great deal it would seem. The obvious solution was to drown our sorrows...until my bank card eventually got rejected and we had to return to our little room. Before we knew it, our mini-break was over, and we were forced to return to normality, driving on the left hand side of the road, sans Where's Wally attire...Sigh.