As you well know I fancied a few days away. The offspring has gone to the continent to learn about having garlic breath and to wear berets, the weather’s fairly good (it’s not raining) , and I have time to spare. I decided beforehand I’d like to go and see and spend a little time around my old manor in Reading. I hasten to add, that knowing Scaryduck was there wasn’t the only reason I decided to go. Honest. That’s called stalking.
I had spent a few days beforehand looking around the internet for a hotel room in the Caversham area. I’m a tight git when it comes to hotel rooms, believing that you should truly pay for what you get. I want a room. No breakfast, no porn movies (although if they are free it’d be nice), no telephone calls or internet, just a room. Travelodge/Premier Inn/Holiday Inn Express normally suffice being clean and cheap, but in Caversham the normal £42-£49 price tag goes out the window and Holiday Inn Express wants £69. I decide the best course of action is maybe to drive around the area looking for small guesthouses that don’t advertise so lowering the cost, and after nearly 2 hours and no success whatsoever, I settle for one halfway between Reading and Caversham called the Rainbow Corner Hotel, and settle on a price of £60. I now realise I’m not going to get it much cheaper, and expect the worst when I go to the room. To be honest, I was pleasantly surprised, what with the large TV (none of this £50 Beko TV from Argos), internet keyboard, and a damn comfy bed!
Anyway… (still here then?)
Off I go at 5:45 to meet Mr. S. Duck in Caversham Park. I used to live not half a mile from this place, and so I know it well. The last time I was there, I seem to remember getting stupidly drunk, rogering some little girly in the trees, and puking into the lake there. Not necessarily in that order though.
You can tell that we are as nervous as each other on meeting, but he gives me an interesting tour of the building anyway. The highlight was a PC with a separate monitor, used to view TV channels from all over the world. Loads and loads of them. I mean, just how much foreign art (*cough*porn*cough*) can a man watch in one go? Then he shows me the wall of videos used to tape all the same channels, like they didn’t get enough the first time around??? We take a gentle stroll through the woods (oo-er) to see the main dish, which was a lot bigger then I remember. It was still covered in bird crap though. He shows me his word document with all his future stories, and more scarily the word count. 78,000 words?!?!?! You sure???
We head over to his local watering hole. Now, remember, the last time I went into this pub I was about 18, just experimenting with alcohol, and to be honest I remember it as a short bar seating about 4 old sweaty alcoholics (sorry, barman’s friends…) and I think about 2 small round tables. It’s been yuppiefied (probably through the steady source of income from the BBC) and we spent a pleasant evening talking about his stories, my stories, comments, and things we’d never put on our blogs. We only had time for 2 pints, which was a shame. I could have sat and chatted all night, and given the chance would have. He's a genuinely funny, nice guy, and maybe we can do it again soon.
On the way home I stop in a local Tesco. I like Tesco, they do some real bargains. They were offering a 3 Megapixel camera with a 1.4” LCD screen for £50, so I snapped one up. I had to get memory for it, and once again managed to buy one for £15. Not as cheap as mail order, but still, you have to put the pictures taken somewhere. I get home, and upon scrutineering the receipt I find that the tossers didn’t charge me £50 like it said in big bold letters on the front of the shelf, but for some reason £80. I know I should have spotted it at the time, but what with all the other shopping I really didn’t notice. Then to add insult to injury I also find my local Tesco is selling the same memory for the camera for £9.49. I’m going to finish uploading this to blogger, and then make a damn stern phonecall.
*edit* Just checked out my hits from Scary's link to me. Is this fame at last?
