Beardie Boy’s Bermuda Balti Bash

 

Friday 14th November 2003

 

A wheely wheely good bash it was too.
The sky was grey and the rain was falling as we gathered at Stoke station.  Michael, a poor student, arrived by train, bunking lectures again just for a curry.  His ever-ready ma, Jane, sat patiently on double yellows outside the station waiting to take his washing off him, before he rejoined us on the platform.  The train was late of course.  An attempt to get student discount failed.  Ah well, it worked on the Eiffel Tower!  Not to be outdone by Mike, Dave ‘C een my glasses’ flew from Lisbon to Heathrow, caught another flight to Manchester, took a taxi home to drop his bags off, and then caught a virgin to join us just an hour behind schedule.  What dedication!

Spike had forgone this do to look at bikes at the NEC bike show.  Hopefully there were some good models on display.  Phil ‘Rock’n roll’ was excused, as he was on a promise of a Bilash special, with sag, aloo, chicken etc etc.  Beardie, who had been instrumental in the initial dry run, had got face ache.  Keith (I’m on for it) wasn’t on for it.  His dad’s only had 3 keys made!??  Rob B was at rehearsals for the panto horse.  So we were down to just 7 squarrites.

The first call was a banker’s hall in St Peters Square, known as the Joint Stock, to avoid the rain.  London Pride was on tap and was on top form.  Tempted to top up the coffers in the adjoining building society, JC checked the moths out in his wallet, and then decided on another half instead.  

A 2-minute stroll and we were in the first of two wetherspoons, back on the Beardie Boy’s original itinery.  This was the smaller of the two.  The foxes nob attracted the attention of several of the group but evidently the taste wasn’t up to much.  JC sat down with a small one, well……...the slow ticking of a walking time bomb could be heard.  The paris wheel was unfortunately (for some), closed due to the wind, a bit of bad planning erecting a wheel between two wetherspoons perhaps.

Over the canal and the first yuppy-style bistro, ‘All Bar One’, came into view.  Richie fainted as he thought he’d paid nearly £10 for 3 drinks, until he finally realised he’d bought 4.  The leather sofas were very comfortable though.  Meandering on, we past the Celebrity Indian restaurant and into the second hugemongous wetherspoons in Broad St.  We came to a decision at this point to venture to the balti triangle instead of the Celebrity.  It was felt that the location of the Celebrity would make a better venue for the summer.  

Decision made, and taxis hailed for the Balti Triangle at Sparkbrook.  The Royal Al Faisal, on Stoney Lane, had been recommended by Phil ‘Rocknroll’, who hadn’t come with us!! A risky choice then.  Still, we weren’t disappointed.  Mid week Tone and Rich slipped out to the offie and came back with ale and wine at a bargain price of £1.50.  A self serve buffet from brass spacecraft-like vessels for £8, satisfied all our hungers, even Stubby, who began with the lamb sag, then the Tandoori chicken, the papodoms, the samosas, the nan breads, chicken balti, chicken tikka massalla ………………….and several others too numerous to remember, let alone eat.

Short by 20p, we settled up and strolled up to Ladypool Road, the main street, to experience the main sights of the area and the sweet shops.  The turmoil of getting up at 6am and travelling all day was finally taking its toll on Dave C een my g_asses, who began remonstrating and insisting that we should be on a main road.  Or may be it was that he’d only had a yoghurt on the 25 minute plane flight from Heathrow.

The journey back was too much for Mike, who fell asleep and had to be virtually dragged off the train by his pop to avoid ending up back in Manchester.