Trapped in Birmingham

train trip (18), originally uploaded by Kelteek.

New Street Station is packed to the gills. People in now very inappropriate shorts and sandals are waiting for taxis. No trains are running South or West so Gawd alone knows if I can get back to Wales. I wonder if Richard’s brother can pick me up as he lives in Droitwich but they seem to have had the worst of the downpour that way and he has taken 5 hours to do his regular journey home.

Tina says she will come from Coventry and get me (it’s her wedding anniversary and no way could I have let someone tackle that journey as we may have simply spent the entire night marooned on a motorway (but lovely thought Tina!)

It is getting late and I book a room in the Ibis as a safety measure in case I am trapped here – I don’t want to end up spending the night on a station with the usual drunks and a whole host of people complaining about transport, the weather, global warming, the government, etc., I want my usual Friday night (BBLB, BB, 8/10 cats, BB eviction, Friday Night project, BB Live… sounds sad but such a blessed relief to watch the mindlessness of others after a busy week! Who am I kiddin’, I love the crap).

I avoid the worst of the crowds, kids being fractious and parents being, well… shouty! I dive into M&S for essentials like chocolate covered butter toffee popcorn and go to W H Smiths for some paperbacks. Boots provides some deodorant but without a pharmacist I cannot stock up on the Nurofen Plus. With matching plastic bags I trundle off to the Ibis - I feel like a bloody Ibis wading out into the rain with just my shirt on my back.

Once installed in the Ibis, I realise I am next door to the collection of nightclub eateries frequented by mini clad girls who are simply legs and hair extensions. These are the types who want to be on BB – why do I like them on the telly but not on the street? I actually prefer them less to the hoodie types who are at least interestingly menacing and quiet.

On top of the noise from next door, the shower is in a cupboard and the TV remote control has no batteries – I phone reception and they arrive with 2xAA batteries. I manage to last ten minutes before ringing down to tell them I need 2xAAA – normally I would apologise, make the trip to reception and ask politely but I was at the end of my tether.

Nicky gets evicted: Good times.
The batteries never arrive: Bad times.