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Here you go Rob - as promised ;)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_NNhPdk5RCM&feature=related

Ok, the road to Swindon. Well, what can I say? Joined the merry SOL crew on a proper coach this time rather than the minibuses we had to Wycombe. Lots of familiar faces and made very welcome. Sweets, biccies, drinks all being shared round. DVDs to watch - sort of, plenty of chat and laughter. M25 wasn't too bad, think it took 3 hours to get there from Benfleet, so plenty of time for a few drinks beforehand, plus the added bonus of bumping into Macca and Osei as we walked across the car park!

Entertaining journey home too, actually getting in the door at 9.15. Both the Trust and SOL provide an excellent service - cheers guys.
 
"Spartan, Spartan - what's the score?"

Any tales from the South Coast? Bet it was a fantastic day/night...please share when your hangover subsides enough!:clap:
 
'Pride And Penalties'

Well, the trip started off brightly enough...with a train journey around the old North London line (now 'Overground') out to Kew Gardens, where Mrs S kindly agreed to defer a visit until she visited independently. It was actually a much shorter walk to Brentford along the river than I thought and we stopped off for refreshments at O'Riordans, a favourite haunt of Tony Adams when he was on the Guinness. Coming up to the Grand Union Canal, I noticed a 'Goat Wharf' which I foolishly thought boded well for that night's game. We got to the ground shortly after five and did a circuit of the pubs before encamping in 'The Griffin' (for the 'London Pride) where we met Richie C, another adventurer from the Celtic enclave known as 'Kernow.' Shrimpers and Bees mixed amicably enough despite warnings from local sources beforehand* and I saw an old footy chum from back in the day, the oldest player still playing if I'm not mistaken. I went to his 60th a couple of years ago! He does play in goal though...

I'm sure you all know what happened in the game so I won't re-live the agony - from the away terrace, I couldn't see if they were penalties or not. Anyway, trying to think positive, I love the atmosphere of away games under the floodlights and there was a pleasant distraction involving some irate Bees in the first half which caused some mirth and merriment amongst our travelling support. Events on the pitch though caused me great tension and I had a bad feeling as to how this one was going to turn out. It was only leavened (albeit temporarily) by the arrival of Francis Laurent who looked tricky and quickie when he came on with about twenty minutes or so to go. He put over a lovely curling cross which caused a melee in the goalmouth and in that moment, I could see why he wishes to play wide on the right. The air of inevitability about the ending of this one hung stagnant long after the final whistle and Mrs S was entreated to the stony silence I reserve for upsetting away results on the train journey back to Waterloo, where my mood was lifted slightly by one of those tasty 'Upper Crust' baguettes. As Morrissey once said, "I can smile about it now, but at the time it was terrible..."

*thanks to Uxbridge :)
 
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'Something Oldham, something Blue...'

Not even going to mention Oldham then Rob?

Well, thought I might be 'cheating' there Kay, this being in the 'Away Travel' thread and all. But in short - great to be back at the Hall on a fine day albeit an absolute b*mmer to be undone by another penalty, this time from a team who offered no threat whatsoever. Guess my journey was the same as many others, ie coming down on the 'C2C' although my first experience of the Tilbury 'loop' for many a year. Good to meet some more Zoners too in The Spread after, as well as some of you with whom I'm well acquainted now...:)
 
Shrimpero in self-publicity lapse!!

Ah didn't realise you were around Saturday Rob!

Sorry Rich - soon as I met your bro' with your good lady, I realised I'd not 'spread' the word fully. Will look out for you at Yeovil and will do my research for a good boozer pre-Exeter as I'll be on the train for that one!
 
Sorry Rich - soon as I met your bro' with your good lady, I realised I'd not 'spread' the word fully. Will look out for you at Yeovil and will do my research for a good boozer pre-Exeter as I'll be on the train for that one!

No prob mate, i've not really been myself recently so its probably my fault I do vaugely recall reading something on here. I won't be at Yeovil still panning Exeter though!
 
Thank gawd for the Coppers! (Yeovil, 14.11.09)

I should have known it was going to be one of those trips. It was wet and windy when me and Mrs S arrived in Liskeard on Thursday night, an early first stop for the Yeovil game. It was my birthday and I'd decided to treat myself by seeing a great R'n'B (in the old fashioned, proper sense) band called 'Devil's Creek' at a rustic little local in South-East Cornwall called 'The Barley Sheaf.' Glasgow SUFC would have been happy as it was a 'St. Austell Brewery' tied pub, but instead of his beloved 'Tribute,' I did a 'proper job' on another of their ales, 'Proper Job.' That is a phrase which is used by Cornish men when appreciating a good bit of work. So, I had a proper job of a hangover the next morning, feeling all queasy at the smell of bacon at the guest house where we stayed. But your roving white van correspondent could not afford to feel nauseous as the next leg of our mini-tour took us across Dartmoor in the mist and rain and it needed top concentration to keep a look-out for any suicidal sheep or ponies just ready to jump out into the path of my rusticule. Animal welfare groups can relax - none were injured in this little jaunt.

After a stop in 'The Tavistock Arms,' where it seemed lots of old toffs had come to retire on Dartmoor and where the only ordinary people were the landlord and his family, it was off to the Devon Riviera where a wild and wet Teignmouth awaited. It was really blowing up a storm there and I was worried the game would be off if it was anything like that in Somerset. Luckily, the Old Blue Lady texted through advice from DC Spooner the next morning saying the game was definitely on and we hit the coast road via Dawlish, Starcross and Exmouth, a great little journey by the railway line and seaside. We decided against going to any of those pubs near Huish Park - don't know what it is about these 'out of town' grounds but the pubs near them are usually sh*te - and found a good one a few miles out of Yeovil (in Upper Mudford, as exotic as it sounds) called 'Great Lyde,' which sold a really nice bitter called 'Copper.' Soon as I tasted it, I wished I wasn't driving as I could have stayed on that all afternoon. But it was not to be, and you know the rest ... Sean Morrison's brief debut, a dogged effort in the face of adversity, the inevitable defeat after all the hard work... and a long old journey home in the wind and rain. Happy days - see you at Tranmere!
 
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<Luckily, the Old Blue Lady texted through advice from DC Spooner the next morning saying the game was definitely on<

I hear cousin Richard is due to retire soon.
Never really forgiven him for his role in the Miners' strike.Suppose all that overtime pay must have been very tempting though.

Didn't know he was involved in that - he'll probably go up in some folks' estimation on here now ! :'(
 
'William, It Was Really (Two) Nothing' : Tranmere, 24.11.09

'The rain falls hard on this humdrum town, this town has dragged you down ...'

Morrissey's words resonated with me on the drive out of Birkenhead. This was one of the most miserable evenings watching (and having) The Blues in a long time. It was a dismal affair and all you lot sensibly encamped in the chat room and/or listening in by whatever media at your disposal can congratulate yourselves on missing this misery on the Mersey. Anyway, 'On The Road Again' is the title of this thread so we'll return to where this 'little' journey started ...

A sunny Sunday afternoon in Penzance quickly gave way to some grey murkiness over the A30 as me and the white van continued our long haul fright on some increasingly dispiriting journeys to away grounds this season. I'm rapidly coming to believe that it's me who is the 'Jonah' on these travels, but that would be incredibly egocentric and as you know, that's not me one bit. First stop was an overnight stay in Oldbury (near West Brom) at my step-daughter's so I could sort out some 'family business' in Brum first thing Monday. She'd got me a 'Good Pub Guide' for my birthday which I put into immediate good usage when getting off the M6 Monday lunch-time. Not far from Junction 14 is a village called Salt, which is home to The Holly Bush Inn - a lovely old boozer which sells Adnam's and does some traditional (non-poncy) pub grub. Next stop was Southport where an old mate known as 'Alick Jeffrey' in our old team of footballing psueds - I was 'Billy Worst' - now plies his trade. We had a good night catching up on the things that matter, ie football, football and football, and he took the Tuesday off work to show me around town ahead of the trip through the Mersey tunnel. During our promenade on the Lancashire Riviera, it occurred to me that three teams on this north-western stretch of shore had gone out of the league in my lifetime, ie Southport, Workington and Barrow. I have a special affection for Workington as they were our first opponents that I can remember, kindly getting stuffed 7-0 at the Hall back in the spring of '68. I also find it very sad when the teams of seaside teams go out of the league, which maybe I have been thinking a bit too much about lately.

Tranmere too have had their problems, so I was feeling a mite optimistic that we could come away from Birkenhead with three points. Ha - how this reinforces the mantra that you shouldn't get whimsical with the gods of football ! You didn't know it was a mantra, did you ? Well, it is now. There I was sat in a good old-fashioned local called 'The Beehive,' admiring their range of slashed seats, and keeping my '67-'68 season replica shirt discreetly covered up. The three points were still there in my imagination as I wondered if there could be room for a pub with the most unthreatening selection of slashed seats in 'The Good Pub Guide.' Just over three hours later, my whimsy had turned to misery and not even the unexpected rendezvous with my fans, Tinkerbell and The Old Blue Lady, could alleviate the gloom which descended on me with Tranmere's second goal. I couldn't hang around in this humdrum town for one second after the final whistle so me and the white van hurtled down the M53, then along the M56 and finally a wet and windy M6 to the anodyne comforts of the Wolverhampton Central Travelodge, just before the witching hour. I dreamed that Franno, Dougie and Scanners had played the balls that Barney had wanted and that we won 3-2. This morning, I remembered that I remain a sad, sweet dreamer. Oh well, better luck next time and see you at Charlton !
 
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