Roadtrip of Heroes

I had intended to post this a while ago. I know I promised some sort of regular soundcast - I have been recording them, but we waffle far more than we should and I have to find time to edit and I could think of a billion more excuses but it still wouldn't mean they were ready to be uploaded. I'll try though.



So daughter two and I battled the most horrendous weather to get to Cardiff in order to watch the recording of two episodes of the second series of the utterly brilliant "Pantheon of Heroes". What can I say but that you should make sure you listen! Even if you missed the first series, definitely catch this one!

First episode is tomorrow (or today, dependant on when your feed of choice picks up this post!) Friday 7th December at 6.30pm on BBC Radio Wales. Don't live in Wales? No problem: Sky customers can listen on channel 0117, you can listen live online via the Iplayer or those who use the Iplayer app (which won't let you hear regional shows) can use Tune-in Radio which I find to be a good reliable app. No excuses! (Oh and it'll probably be repeated after Rhod Gilbert's show on a Saturday too, dependant on a lack of sport!)

So here is the soundcast. Apologies for the poor sound quality in the mid-section. I spent a lot of time editing out background noise, but wasn't able to clean it completely.

Roadtrip

Because every journey is an adventure I figured I'd share a little of my trip with you all. It won't make for a deeply fascinating read unless you like to see just how miserable and pathetic my life really is, but here you go regardless:



All packed and eager, I awoke from my two-hour sleep ready to walk to the bus station.

To find rain. Not just a little, but dirty great drips so heavy the contents of my case would be drenched before I even reached the end of my road.

It is also worth mentioning at this point that I dyed my hair the day before - and it had that beautiful bounce that only comes of having newly-coloured hair. In my imaginings, I would be swishing off the bus in Cardiff, all hair and glamour. Yes, I am something of a dreamer - you really should have got that by now…
Suffice it to say I really did not want wet hair - I also didn’t relish the idea of having to dry clothes in my hotel room on arriving - so I wimped out and called a taxi.

The driver was very nice and seemed quite knowledgeable, so to hear “The weather’s great in Cardiff today” spoken with the same authority as a report on the state of traffic on the drive over I was hopeful of Sunshine. Especially given that the sky had started to clear at some time around ‘too late to walk now’ and I could see I was leaving a potentially not too unpleasant day behind me.
A glance through the social networks suggested otherwise… but I certainly wasn’t travelling for the weather, now, was I?


Arriving at the station posed an interesting situation. I thought it would be simple - head directly to the ticket desk to find which bay I needed and await my bus.
Ticket desk, it seems, is not deemed necessary on a Saturday when the majority of people do their travelling - but I was able to locate the zone, bus arrived and we boarded.
Amongst my fellow travellers were a pair of teens; a brother and sister, as mum told us all between her sobs, travelling without her for the first time. I would imagine she might still be crying. They were chatting and laughing the moment we pulled out of the station.
This made me a little sad, as no-one had bothered even waking to see me off at home, least of all coming to the station - but at least I was saved the guilt of leaving them I guess.


Travelling itself was not the trauma I had anticipated. I don’t travel well, but given that there were only ten people on the coach I was able to sit at the front with a full view and even had a little table should I decide to work. Yes, I should have I know…
I chose instead to listen to Pantheon of Heroes - and whilst searching for it discovered my mp3 player has an FM radio (travelling on a Saturday, headed to Wales; need I elaborate? Just. Pure. Joy. Or hope at least.)

As an aside, I know that some time ago there were tweetings of the writing of series two… even more anxious for it now!! HURRY UP!!!

I was surprised given that you must prebook for this journey the driver still had to call in at every town. It must be quite demoralising as a job having people shake their heads apologetically when they see you approach… and we could have arrived far more quickly had we cut out those towns and stuck to the main road. Nevertheless, it was nice to sit back and not be the driver for once, so I was a little grateful of the scenic detour.

At some point (it may have been Taunton, I really wasn’t paying attention) we acquired a group of hens and some other newcomers. Opposite me was now a Spanish guy - this I knew because he had little English and the struggle over communication with the driver piqued my interest enough that I removed my earphones for a moment. Anyway - having completed Pantheon, I had now embarked on a little Pappy’s catch-up and was working through the Bangers and Mash podcasts. Now having children I am obviously used to not giving voice to every sound I feel inclined to make (although it has been a while!) and as such the out-loud laughter was suitably stifled… the problem is, though, that stifling any noise does instill a facial expression and as I noticed Mr Spaniard watching me with a somewhat peculiar expression my initial indignation became embarrassment as I realised my face was contorting into some very strange ‘don’t laugh’ shapes as I tried to remain quiet. Not a sexy look, so I chose instead to brush up on my Welsh lessons… after all, when in Rome and all that! Very quickly we arrived in Bristol.

Now as with most cities, all I knew of Bristol was the hospitals and places we may have passed by during our many accidental detours and having the worst sense of direction in the world decided leaving the surprisingly small bus station might not be a sensible move. Thus I spent the hour and a half between journeys seated in a little coffee shop, having paid around £7 for a coffee, slice and a Double-decker watching the board for my bus. Incidentally, it is just as well I didn’t rely solely on the board, as my bus was never listed even as we pulled out of the station. I discovered at this point that the hens were also going to Cardiff - and they were to grow rowdier on the next leg of the journey!

Nearing time for phase two, I headed to the gate. There were a Polish couple headed to Bridgend who were just repeating over and again “Swansea, but” and laughing more hysterically each time. They made me chuckle, as did the peculiar lady who turned to a friend on seeing a bus with our number headed to a different gate and with ‘Heathrow’ in the destination window said:
“That’s ours”; “No, look, he’s going to Heathrow”; “Yes, but doesn’t ours go on to Heathrow? I’m sure I read somewhere that it’s going to Heathrow via Swansea.”
Were I her friend, I’d have been hard pressed to not send her to that gate and pop her on the bus regardless!

Anyway, phase two of my journey was not so great; this coach was a newer one, more designed for comfort with big seats and high, darkened windows. The seats were so high I could not reach the floor, the only thing on which to rest my feet was pumping out hot air and the guy behind me was in some sort of restless sleep that had him constantly kicking out at my seat during the journey. I immediately felt nauseous and claustrophobic and spent the entire drive scanning the radio for BBC Radio Wales to take my mind off the horrid feeling in my stomach…

I had a romantic vision that we would pass through the toll and instantly the voice of divinity would appear on my radio in some flamboyant welcome gesture. This didn’t happen. What I did hear was some fuzzy white noise a few miles after with a glint of Mr Corcoran at the back of it only recognisable to someone with a heightened interest in such things. But he was there. And I was able to listen to small moments between bouts of further fuzz until reaching the outskirts of Cardiff - the one place I thought for sure there would be a decent signal. Here he vanished altogether and rather despondent, I gave up looking for him.

We had found sunshine at around the point of the M5/J27 services and it had stayed with us for the most part through the journey. We left it at Newport, however. It’s probably just as well- Newport looked gloomy enough even with the sun we brought - in fact not even the presence of the funfair seemed to create any sort of joy.
Newport is a peculiar place. From the architecture it appears that there have been sporadic efforts at renovation which result in a new building, or maybe two or in some cases only half, of a particular style amidst a mish-mash of different designs. Even the new, modern buildings look tired and dirty. It is certainly an odd place to see!
So we left the sun in the hope it makes just one person in the town smile and drove on into ever heavier rain to reach our destination in a horrendous downpour.

Immediately on stepping out of the station I was thrown into a panic that I’d become one of those ‘rural girl killed within minutes of hitting the city’ statistics on being targeted by two guys wanting money. Being quite obviously not from round here, with my case and my bag and fully aware they were now following me (or at least walking in the same direction as I was), I hopped into a taxi rather than walking around not quite sure where I was going. With hindsight, I could have saved the money but it was raining as heavily as it had been at home and I didn’t see the point in taking chances - besides which, I needed to save the hair!

And so it was that I arrived at my hotel a little later than expected but nevertheless safe and happy into a room much lovelier than pictures had shown with most importantly a nice big mug for my coffee!

Quite uneventful as my journeys go, but the next is something else altogether!

Swansea Festival Road Trip

I had an amazing evening with my dear friend last night. Can’t remember if I’d mentioned it or not, but we had tickets for the Swansea Comedy Festival… it may have come up whilst I was talking about something else!

As with most things we do together, it was an adventure.

Firstly, the shouty SatNav bitch insisted we were going to arrive an hour later than we thought we would, which baffled us both as I had set it to the quickest journey. It seems the power-mad bint hates the bridge as much as I do, as she kept insisting we take junctions to avoid it altogether before announcing “Toll - now” …. and I’d swear she had a tone of smugness to her voice in that “You wouldn’t listen, would you” way. I also discovered the things that scare me most about the bridge are exactly what my friend loves about it as she set about the queue-hopping and excitedly participated in the post-payment frenzy to be first to hit the road proper. Made me feel a bit silly, to be honest, since I have a far bigger vehicle than she does yet the whole process terrifies me so much I don’t stop crying until Cardiff – I was thinking I could easily take on these pissy little cars! Something to think on, I guess!

Since I am referring to her driving, it is quite important I stress a few points: she didn’t once thrash the hub’s car, she certainly broke NO speed limits, didn’t swear at other drivers (even the proper c***s) and we certainly did NOT crank up the stereo to an unacceptable level. Ok, one or more of those things may not be true…. or they all could be; I’ll leave you to ponder the reality for yourselves.



So anyway – having used all our change to avoid dealing with an actual person at the gate, we arrive at our destination with only notes to pay for parking. Seems Swansea does not yet have pay-by-text parking machines, either; which is not necessarily a bad thing, since in my experience the whole system is a bloody nightmare but it did mean having to blag change and losing more of our precious time; although time was something we were blessed with an abundance of after banishing Miss Shouty-bollocks and taking our own route!


Once parked and after a quick car-park based wardrobe adjustment, we set out to find the venue itself. Now I was fairly sure I knew which building it was, but there were no discernable signs so it was not clear that I was correct. We made a poor choice in the person we carefully selected to direct us (by which I mean we darted across the road in front of someone and asked him as he stopped to let us continue!) after he suggested it was “in town”… firstly, that statement itself answered a question we had discussed earlier on our journey as to whether Swansea was a city or a town, although given that this guy did not seem particularly well-informed, maybe he did not know either! I also wondered what kind of direction “in town” is to two people who clearly do not know the place at all. I often give directions which are so detailed they completely confuse people. This man seems to be the opposite extreme; not to mention being a total moron as we were actually less than fifty yards from the venue itself when we asked. This in itself annoyed me too; I am a bit mannish about these things and will rather hunt around and find something for myself than ask randoms for directions, so that my friend asked for directions so early on had irked me somewhat, especially with the hindsight of seeing a) How easy it actually was to find and b) How much of a spanner the person we asked was; but we arrived in plenty of time and that is what counts!


The show itself was fab – but that’s for another post. The journey back; more not thrashing the car, not driving too fast and not having the stereo too loud and lots more chat!

That in itself was a great thing. With my kids getting older, they are no longer in bed when my friend comes round for a boozy evening so it is often difficult to talk about some things. It was great just being the two of us, talking openly about the things we needed to talk about – even if she did spend most of the time trying to convince me my plan for the future was not a good one.


We shall see!

Swansea or Bust!

Geography is vexing me like a hard-assed mofo right now! It would be fab if I didn’t love everything about living in this region…. It’s just that all the cool stuff is so damned far away!! You would not believe how many free tickets I have had to pass up lately because of living where I do!

I managed to score a couple of tickets for the Swansea Comedy Festival and have been desperately trying to arrange the logistics because I so need some hearty laughs right now. I have wanted to see Andrew Lawrence for a while, having missed out for a variety of reasons when he performed nearby a few weeks ago. He had a fab radio series last year which irritated me mostly by being recorded as just fifteen minute episodes so I am looking forward to hearing more of what he has to say! Also on the bill is Lloyd Langford. I have to admit to feeling a little ambivalent towards him: although I do laugh at his few appearances on television and radio, he often appears more as a feeder to other comedians so I wonder how well his comedy stands alone. Reviews don’t bode well, but I have always been a free-thinker, so will be keeping an open mind and will be sure to let you all know once the event has passed! In fact, I have to say that I tend to want to like something more if it has a bad review just so as to stick it to the reviewer.

I just hope my own words don't meet with the same contempt!

Getting away is not without its issues of course! With a disabled hub-ling and three children to organise, getting a night out even on a weekend is tricky – and this one is a school night! Add to that my fear of driving motorways, my terror at the thought of dealing with the bloody bridge again, the cost of fuel and the fact that staying awake for a 3 hour drive there let alone home again is likely to prove difficult for me, I was veering towards public transport. This isn’t as simple as it should be, though! I thought the advantages were clear: a faster journey, lower costs, a more relaxed trip. The reality is something else altogether. This probably is nothing new to those among you who have good rail links so use trains regularly, but here the trains go to one place only and as it is not somewhere I ever need to go, I do not use trains. Ever. That said I do know that were I to drive it would take 50 minutes, whilst the train journey is a mere 15-20. Why, then, does my three hour drive to Swansea become a five hour train journey? Least of all because were I to take a ten minute drive to the next town, I can actually see the bloody place! And why is it that whilst I can get there for a mere £11.50, I am expected to cough up £45 for my return? In having a moan over facebook about this (as one must in such circumstances!) I commented, “Well that’s it – I shan’t go!” to which an old friend replied simply with “It seems to me, going isn’t the problem!” That gave me a little chuckle as I pondered over whether attending a comedy gig was reason enough to abandon my domestic duties altogether and set up a new life for myself.

The jury is still out on that one!

Luckily, I am blessed with the friendship of one of the most amazing people on the planet, who called me up and said “Don’t panic, I’ll borrow hubs car and drive you there!” Perfect, since I had a spare ticket anyway! So ROADTRIP!! Very much looking forward to it! Indeed!

Mostly for some quality time with my top girl! Not only that, but we both SO need to blow out the cobwebs right now!

So I was thinking “Where do we eat?” And I stumbled across this in a review which made me giggle! 

“if you want to occasionally be just a little sophisticated, without going to Cardiff”

Now, I hadn’t ever really considered Cardiff to be a hot-bed of sophistication so wonder what this tells us about where we are going – although my visits have been hospital ones, so I guess I have not seen the best of the city! But anyway, that was my little “laugh-out-loud” moment for today!

And incidentally, the venue looks to be right near the place it would be logical for the much awaited Devon/Swansea ferry to land so future visits should be far simpler…. That is, assuming the Welsh fix up a landing point fairly soon! Perhaps they aren’t as keen on joining the two nations as we are… something to think on!

Oh, and as an FYI: When looking for a good restaurant ALWAYS switch on safe-search before using your preferred search engine to find “Eating out in Swansea”….

As an addendum:

Believing as I do that a person should make up their own mind about things, I have spent some time hitting up You-tube. There are not a great deal of videos of Langford, but from what I have seen he is every bit as funny as many other comedians I have seen so I hope the nay-saying reviewers are hanging their heads in shame! In fact, of the few clips I found there were some which seemed to be from the very gigs referred to in the reviews I read. I sometimes wonder if the writers of negative reviews have simply thought up some great lines of derision and have to use them at any cost... something to think on, I guess! Anyway - roll on July!

More on this topic here!