Up until the football match started, I had an enjoyable away day in London yesterday…
We left a Bath on a sunny afternoon and made our way east towards London.
I haven’t been to London that many times in my life. Every time I do go, I am always amazed at the shear size of the place. The buildings seem to go on forever. There isn’t a hill, field or tree in sight – in fact the only blades of grass I saw were on the football pitch – very different from the Bath, which is surrounded by rolling countryside.
I was very surprised by the traffic in London – or lack of it. We made our way off the M4 and proceeded towards and through Chelsea with shear ease. Baring in mind this was rush hour, I was amazed we didn’t get held up.
I didn’t like the look of London and wouldn’t ever like to live there, although Chelsea seemed very nice. It did, however, also look very expensive and I think the only way I could afford to live in Chelsea would be if I played for Chelsea F.C.
I believe I was very close to when my Bath-exiled friend, Daniel Hobart, lives. It would have been nice to have found him, missed the football match and spent the evening with him. On hindsight, I probably should have done just that.
My iPhone went berserk in London city centre. There were so many WiFi access points, I was constantly being offered 20+ networks to connect to as the coach drove through the capital city. I turned the feature off in the end as the constant interruptions made using the web browser impossible.
We arrived at the ground at 6ish. With the ground locked shut and almost 2 hours before kick off, we made our way to a local pub to get a couple of pints. Another stereotypical London view of mine was also quashed. The rumour that you can only buy beer by the bottle and not the pint, and have to pay £6 a time, proved unfounded.
The pub, Hoopers, was very nice and I could have quite happily stayed there all night. After watching a dire Bath City performance, I wish I had of stayed behind drinking.
After drinks, we made our way to the ground.
Then everything went bad. The end.
Champion Hill. The home of Fisher Athletic and Dulwich Hamlet
I am now back home.
In bed.
Very tired.
Still very annoyed.
I just want to go to sleep and forget about this evening.
I would say “never again”, but know I’m too loyal to stick to that promise.
Losing 1-0 to a team second from bottom, who are in so much financial turmoil, they were forced to field kids, is a new low for Bath City.
It was a terrible performance and any dreams of reaching the play offs have now gone.
I am struggling to think of a time I have seen a worse performance than yesterday – City were absolutely DIRE.
Still, rather reluctantly, I am leaving work tomorrow at 2pm to make the long trip to central London to watch City play Fisher Athletic who are bottom of the league. Surely we can win that one…
Bath City’s game against Bishops Stortford was off tonight. This was the re-arranged game from the original fixture on 3rd January, which was postponed due to a frozen pitch. This evening, the weather-gods were at it again and caused a monsoon to fall from the sky.
I arrived at the ground for 6.45pm to help in the shop, getting soaking in the process. Upon arrival, it was clear the match would be off, especially after checking out the pitch to see it was more of a lake than a football field.
A wasted trip which soaked me through – I’ll probably get a cold now. At least I got a free doughnut from the tea bar.
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
