Anyway, yesterday was a good day. Woke up at 9am, made some breakfast for myself, then when Melissa woke up I made her some breakfast. I showered and so forth, and Melissa dropped me at Upholland station and I made my way back to Wallasey. The train conductor was confused when I said "Err, Grove Road please", and he said "Roan Road?" I said "No, Grove Road" and he said "Are we spelling that R...o...." I said "No GROVE, G..r...o..." He tried that and his little computer said "no" so then he asked where it was, I said "Wallasey" he had difficulty spelling that, too, but eventually found it, charged me £7.10 for the single ticket and remarked "In all my years I've never sold a ticket to Wallasey" I said "congratulations" because it seemed appropriate and off he went.
The rest of the journey was unremarkable and I got to my mum and dad's house without incident. My dad made me some lunch and a little after 2pm I wandered down to John's house to meet him and Jape and off we went, back to Roan Road station. We just missed the train, but they run every 15 minutes or so, so we were happy to wait. The train we were supposed to be getting on was sat at the other platform when we got to the station, and it fast became apparent that it was going to be there for a while. It turned out that some old chap had had a funny turn, and twatted his head on the floor and knocked himself out. The train was waiting for the paramedics to attend and get him off the train. It took about an hour, and instead of getting the 2:42 train, we got the 3:42 train. Sigh.
Met Stew and Mike at Matou which is a lovely roof top bar and restaurant on the docks, behind The Royal Liver Building. It was a little over £4 a pint so we didn't stay long.
This was looking back at Walasey on the way to the Albert Dock:
We went into Revolution, for food and deafening as the place was chock full of hen parties. I made a quip about the noise to the bar maid and she did not find it funny, so I just took my funny tasting Becks Vier back to the table and we ordered some food from a much friendlier waitress.
After that we traipsed up to Lunya just by Liverpool One for a pint of Estrella. We sat outside while supping and saw this:
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It was Mike's idea to have tequillas, and the bar staff were confused as it was only about 6:30 and there was NO ONE ELSE in there, except some old fella who came in to use the bog.
Here's the beers in the shipping forecast :
That was a pint of Golden Bear or something, it was really good and a lovely change from lager.
After that we jumped a taxi down to Beetham where Mike knew of a party. We blagged our way past the door staff and went up to the 6th floor for a "party". We didn't have any booze so stole some from the host (he kindly offered us a can of lager each) and then we left. Me and Jape wandered up to Moorfields where we just missed the train (again) and had to sit round for 45 minutes waiting for the next one.
We got off at Roan Road and fortunately Bella Pizza (which we named our little cat after) was still open. They had no kebab meat left, and I'd be lying if I said I wasnt furious. I had chips, cheese and mayo instead and it was an adequate substitute. Jape bought an "American Heart" pizza, which we decided was named as such due to a hilarious misunderstand, funny accent related telephone call to the sign maker, and it was really supposed to be an American Hot pizza.
As we left, a pissed man told me to keep practicing on my skateboard. I told him I would.
We walked to our seperate homes (my parents house in my case) and presumabley went to our seperate bads.
I woke up, my dad made me a cuppa while it typed this, and now we're up to speed.
I'll back later with a brief update on my movements today (bowel and otherwise).
FYI Melissa was at Take That in Manchester yesterday, according to a hazily recollected conversation from last night she enjoyed it, and according to her Facebook status, Robbie was amazing and she'd fulfilled a life long ambition in seeing him live.
