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stupid train journeys of our time...

S

sweeney

Lantern Swinger
Oh you would have thought I had learned by now. Pompey to doncaster, as a sprog, drinking all the way, arrive w**kered in Grimsby having slept through me station...

Just got back from Macedonia... Got to athens with me mate, having had a few beers at the airport. Get to Thessaloniki with not too much trouble (having purchased 2 bottles of metaxa each)... Waiting for train to Skopje. Best have a few beers to settle the pre-footy nerves. Get on train. All good. The train heads are like a catering assistant (not working)...

Stop number one, me mate has to get off for a slash. Train leaves. He is still having a slash... 8O He has the match tickets! F**KING HELL!!! 8O 8O 8O

Arrive macedonian border. I get off with mine and his visa. In the queue to check visas. Macedonian police ask why "is 2 bags, 2 visas and only 1 persons"...

Train leaves with me and police on macedonian border... 8O F**KING HELL! Its like defaulters now! Next train comes. All good. Me mate is on it. I will sit here and have a sweet Metaxa cooking brandy. Oh and a lager from the shop. And then more cooking brandy. Train arrives. I am now officially w**kered. I fall over getting on the train. (The bottles are saved) but I smack me forehead and cut it. Only a bit... And I can wipe it with this bit of paper. Not a problem. So in me sh1t faced state I begin to wander up and down the carriages looking for me oppo, who didn't get off, coz he hasn't got a visa. Its covered in blood in me pocket... Checked all the carriages. No sign of him. I eventually slump down next to some old bird, who I try to pull, before sobbing into me brandy and having a power nap.

I get over the train, smelling of cheap alcohol, blood over me face, wurzel gummige hair and no match ticket. Then me mate, f**kin' cocky bollocks, wanders down the platform... he hid in the heads across the border and fell asleep in there. So he was nice and refreshed. Then he had the nerve to ask me where I'd been! Never again!
 
Many moons ago in the days the submarine attack teacher was situated at Port Bannatyne on the Island Of Bute. Left over from the days when SM/3 was stationed in Rothesay Bay. Now it was standard practice to send the control room attack team up to the teacher for a week just before commissioning. You would travel up by train and here is another pointless train journey. To get a full days work out of you we had to travel up on the night sleeper Kings Cross to Glasgow Central. This is the story of my last trip in 1970 but all ran the same course.

Sunday Afternoon
1 pm gather negative officers near Plymouth Station few a couple of wets.
2 pm board train to Paddington pass around large cans of Watneys beer and bottle of rum/scotch/whatever.
5.30 pm disembark train now well pissed underground to Kings Cross
7 pm Pubs in London opened two swift pints and board train at 7.30 pm
8. to 8.30 pm meet in the BR Doubles Bar on train, drink until you could not stand or were full up. Retire to sleeper many failed to find the one they had been allocated so flopped out in any that were unlocked.
MONDAY
6.30 am arrive Glasgow Central try and locate all of the Attack Team plus their kit. Run up and down platform screaming out names, with hangover, to the complete bemusement of early commuters. It was not unknown for a naked sailor to be searching for his clothes. Try to avoid the spew decorating the outside of the train where Jolly Jack had reached the window before upchucking.
7.30 am board train to Wemyss Bay for ferry to Rothesay
8.30 am Ferry departs get some breakfast, meat pies, cakes etc
9 am Pusser's blue bus to attack teacher
9.30 am first attack starts

We were prepared for that.

Nutty
 
standard. Me mate is an ex pongo (RTR) so you would think that between us we'd have a clue. maybe its traditional. On trains turn into an alkie mong!
 
There must be something about trains , used to arrive at Newcastle fxxxxxxxg paraletic , must be the boredom !!!!!!!!!!!!, would,nt do it now of course , have grown up a little since then , hehehe , :roll:
 
Worst train journey I ever had was at Butlins in Clacton. Train went round in a circle and I couldn't find the buffet car
 
dondon said:
slim said:
Worst train journey I ever had was at Butlins in Clacton. Train went round in a circle and I couldn't find the buffet car
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Hehehehe , what a nightmare , :D :D
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me mam worked on the one at minehead. She was a redcoat there. If you shagged a bird from rotherham in a red jacket at butlins minehead on easter break 1968, you are probably my dad.
 
dondon said:
There must be something about trains , used to arrive at Newcastle fxxxxxxxg paraletic , must be the boredom !!!!!!!!!!!!, would,nt do it now of course , have grown up a little since then , hehehe , :roll:
Click to expand...

You were lucky, just imagine what I was like when I got to Edinburgh.
 
In the days before they served food on the flights, I believe that something like 17 G&Ts was the record for the Heathrow Edinburgh shuttle. Only managed 14 myself, the last of which was in the car leaving the carpark (those minitures are a bitch to pour whilst changing gear...)
 

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