Our day started very early, not because we had to leave early for Ipswich but because we had to leave early for Inverness, almost as far up Scotland as you can get. We were going on a sibling trip to the highlands in order to ride the steam trains with my brother and sister and their spouses. Our taxi arrived at 7.45 to take us to the bus station where a coach took us to the Shearings Interchange in Normanton, passing the Millers fans waiting to board the Ipswich bus on Chantry bridge.
Sad to say the day was spoiled at a roundabout off the M62 when a single magpie flew right overhead. "Good morning Mr Magpie' I saluted, but would that be enough? The waiting room at the depot was full to bursting with mature people, glancing around I spotted one lady who looked around my age, the rest were much older. 'Passangers for Strathpeffer go to stand N20' came over the tannoy. As we boarded the bus I was glad to see the absense of Zimmer frames, although the driver had to get behind a couple to propel them up the steps.
Our driver, Gary, introduced himself, then let us know that if we tried to talk while he was talking we would be water boarded, or some similar punishment. Hello Gary! Then we were off on a Marathon ten hour journey through half of England and most of Scotland on a bus full of pensioners with a Bolshie driver.
We had booked seats very close to the front, Heather and David having paid a bit extra for the first row, just in across from a man who talked the whole way, non stop. I now know all there is about him, his children, all the holidays he has ever been on and his full medical history. We were also in front of a lady who laughed like a lunatic every time Gary made a quip, which was often. No rubber hose for her. We paused at Washington (Tyne and Wear not DC), where we were to pick up more oldies. Unfortunately, much to Gary's disgust, their bus was delayed and we had to wait. Gary was apoplectic when one old guy needed the facilities when they did finally get there and had to hike across the car park to the services. We then paused at Jedburgh in the borders for lunch, 'We can only have half an hour here' groused Gary, 'we are running late now and I want to get past Perth before the Ryder Cup crowd turns out'. Luckily, being at the front we could shoot off the bus first and get a picnic table. Unluckily, the other two couples had forgot their picnics and had to wait for the bus to empty before climbing back on to get them.
Back on the bus and kick-off was looming. I texted Vicky to ensure she was in place to send me score updates as the Sky Sports App was never going to work in the wilds of the Borders. Luckily my pocket buzzed around 3'o'clock. 'Kick-off' said the natty little app that sends me updates. Who needs Vicky. Almost immediately after my pocket buzzed again. In a flurry of excitement I wrestled my phone back out of my pocket. 'Ipswich1 Rotherham 0, 3mins!!!' screamed the update. Damn, but plenty of time to come back. I returned my phone to my pocket where it immediately buzzed again. 'Ipswich 2 Rotherham 0, 6mins!!!' the update gloated. Back in my pocket and straight back out again for another buzz. This time a text from Vicky telling me we were 2-0 down. Thanks Vicky. This time my pocket didn't buzz again for another half hour, through a barely cracked eyelid I saw that Kari Arneson had been booked. Same thing again a couple of minutes later, this time a booking for Frecklington. Then half time came and still 2-0. No more alerts arrived in the second half until the final score buzzed in that we had lost. Was I glad we were on a bus full of penshioners somewhere near Edinburgh and not in Ipswich. Because of the failure of the Sky Sports App, and indeed and kind of communication this far North, we could not find out any of the other results, so football took a back seat to the scenery, which was wonderful.
We passed by Perth, no sign of Gary's expected Ryder cup traffic, and pulled into a small car park where Gary explained he now had to take a 45minute break. Ian had taken to trying to beat the large lady across the isle out of his seat and off the bus. She was obviously a seasoned pro and had the armrest down and a meaty leg in the isle well before the bus came to a stop. Should be an interesting competition over the week. Heather leaped off first and sprinted toward the loo, only to sit down at a picnic table and start tying her lace. Schoolgirl error as all the oldies hobbled past her and into the queue for the three smelly toilets. I decided to play it canny and wait until just before we got back on the bus. The cafe was closed so two bus loads (Gary's mate on the Dornoch bus had arrived) of oldies were wandering aimlessly round and round a toilet block. We decided on a brisk walk through the woods to sweep the cobwebs away, just us and one other youngish old couple.
Back on the bus for the last leg just in time for Gary to tell us how to work the hotels ancient lift. Heather attempted to get a bottle of coke off the overhead rack and dropped it on the lady behind. Whoops! The sky darkened into night, and finally, at 8 pm, we arrived at the Bay Highland hotel.
The manager, Donald, clambered on to the bus to tell us the rules and we were in and collecting our keys.
It had been a long, long, day. At least we had arrived, unlike the poor Millers fans who were no doubt still on their way back. Next up is Blackburn at home on Tuesday.
Final score, Ipswich 2 Rotherham 0
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