My alarm went off at 5.50 am last Saturday. 20 minutes later than when the seagulls in Blackpool had woken me a fortnight earlier and at least this time it was on my terms but it was still early for a day off. I had to be up and about though. I recently discovered how cheap coach travel is and as I was bothered by not visiting Bucket List Coffee in Eastcote during the Pinner/(Barnet (a) weekend, I decided to go back, with a side mission of heading to Essex to visit Theydon Bois for the first time to tick off two pubs.

I headed to Walsall Railway Station, questioning my life choices as the bus to Birmingham passes the bottom of my road. I usually only leave my house in the dark to go to work. This was leisure though so there was an albeit sleepy, spring in my step

At Digbeth, the coach was bang on time. As it was taxi-ing (not sure if this term works with coaches) the man on the seat across the aisle from me decided to start filming. As he panned across my face I gave him a smile. I was tempted to give him an invoice for filming rights and administration fees.

I hadn’t used the toilets at the coach station due to the 30p charge. Robbin bastards and all that. To quote the voice over man on Dragons Den “I walked away from the deal.” I didn’t want to be the first on the coach to use the onboard facilities as everyone would point and throw things so it was a big relief when someone else went first. I noticed that each time someone went, the man across the aisle would turn and watch them move up the coach. Although after his earlier antics I was surprised that he didn’t follow them in and film them.

It was disappointing there wasn’t a coach wide sing song like in the film Trains, Planes and Automobiles. There must have been some people on board going to the Oasis gig at Wembley that could have got a rendition of Acquiesce going.

I had bought a copy of Viz (which I’ve not done since 2013) and the plan was to read it on board but it was a bit gloomy so I decided to unwind. I don’t often get time to do nothing so I went into stand by mode. No Facebook or Twitter. I could have used this time to check the two lottery tickets in my wallet but I deduced that they’d keep. Those millions could wait another couple of months.

Further down the motorway I snapped back into the real world and jumped on social media. Josh timed this perfectly messaging with a somewhat random quiz question. “By law what is the minimum am-mount of pork that must be in a sausage?” I’ve got to be honest, I didn’t know. Capital of Greenland? I’d have been all over that but this was a no. I guessed and wasn’t far off. It’s 42%. Everyday is a school day eh? It’s always good to have gaps in my knowledge filled in even if I didn’t realise that said gap existed.

My coach was due in Victoria at 11.30. I’d done all my planning. Victoria Line to Oxford Circus, jump on Bakerloo Line to Baker Street, then hop on Metropolitan Line and head over to Eastcote. The night before though when researching, the website had advised of “severe delays ” on the Victoria Line.

At 10.30 we arrived at Golders Green. I pondered. Wikipedia is a God send. Within seconds I knew Golders Green had an underground station (it was across the way but obscured by the iconic red London buses). I could get the Northern Line to Euston, then stroll over to Euston Square – a path I know as well as my house to Bescot Stadium. Sod it. Let’s do that.

At Golders Green, there is Bar Linda. I really wish I’d taken a picture as it certainly looked my kind of place, and I believe it was open too. But I was hunting for the loo having not paid the 30p at Digbeth or gone on the coach in fear of being pointed at or filmed. Found the loo, jumped on the Northern Line, and by 11.20 I was on the Metropolitan Line hurtling towards Eastcote when theoretically I should have still been on the coach. I love it when a plan b comes together. Of course, this plan meant that I didn’t get to change at Baker Street. “Change at Baker Street” is slang for a sexual act so quite appropriate that I didn’t get to perform it. Story of my life.

There was a slight issue upon boarding the train though. A lady was severely nonplussed at me politely asking her to move her bag off the adjacent seat. She pulled a face but did so. I think her opinion of me worsened when I sat down, started reading Viz and laughed very loudly (at a couple of readers letters about farts).

As previously mentioned, in Eastcote I had one mission. Bucket List Coffee. I could have visited it on the Sunday that I was in town but I’m too cautious for my own good and opted to get to Euston “to make sure I got there in time”. I did. I had 90 minutes there, being asked for money and topping up the vitamin D levels in the sun.

It’s a smart place is Bucket List. I was warmly greeted and looked up at the menu. Sexy Latte jumped out at me so I opted for that. I perused the cakes and asked about a Lemon variant which there wasn’t so I went for a chocolate croissant as a nod to my French grandfather.

The place was relaxed. Music was provided by chilled out versions of hits with a great rendition of the Of Monsters & Men classic “Little Talks” being the pick. The toilet is a singe person unisex affair but it has the music playing within which would get my mate Swill’s seal of approval.

Coffee was great, as was the croissant along with the ambience. Good visit and glad I finally ticked it off. Was it worth all the jaunt though? Basically yeah. Will go again, not that I have any trips to Eastcote in the diary but you never know eh?

It was time to cross London. Metropolitan Line to Liverpool Street and then Central Line to Theydon Bois in Essex. Got to be honest, I’d not heard of Theydon Bois until a contestant on The Easiest Quiz on The Scott Mills Show on Radio 2 said he was from there. It was said of it being at the end of the Central Line and I duly added it to my to do list.

At Liverpool Street I paused on the platform to take pictures. I must have looked so touristy. We visited the pub at Liverpool Street on the Monopoly Pub Crawl in 2009, and the article on that weekend was my first attempt at non fiction writing. It’s the least read blog on my site and you can catch it here. I’d be overjoyed if it got some love. Anyway, I digress. After that pub visit in 2009 it was good to finally use Liverpool Street station for what it was designed for.

The first train that arrived was for Hainault on a different branch of the Central Line than the one I needed. Shame it was terminating there as the next station is Grange Hill, a tv show I loved as a kid. I’ve always wanted to recreate the opening credits by throwing a sausage at someone, although now with the knowledge gleaned earlier, I’d be checking the Pork content before deciding whether to launch it.

Soon I was on the way to Essex. I knew from Wikipedia that Theydon Bois has no street lights, although with the new trendy and very shit ones we have now in Walsall, I think we are trying to recreate this. I also was aware that David Sullivan the man behind the Sunday Sport newspaper is from the place. It did cross my mind if I might bump into him in a pub and maybe show him some of my writing. I’ve always fancied a weekly column in a newspaper.

First thing upon leaving the station drive is a curry house. The town planners have got it right here. Imagine come back from a night in London and making it into the curry house for last orders. Marvellous. I had a mooch about. There is a beauty shop called “Small And Cute” which I think describes me perfectly. Ok, I jest. I know the cute bit is absolute bollocks.

There are two butchers. I pondered playing them off against each other with the Pork content of their sausages but this quickly passed. There used to be 4 pubs, but this has been halved. One of the closed ones was called “Sixteen Stringed Jack” named after a local highway man who was hanged in 1774. You can’t beat a unique quirky pub name and it’s a shame that it got demolished.

Theydon Bois is a village in Epping Forest, it’s very picturesque and has a big stretch of green land where (I assume) they hold their annual Donkey Derby where local children race the animals and small wagers are allowed to be placed. Good job I wasn’t a kid round here. I tried riding a donkey in Blackpool when I was about 8 and was terrified.

Pub time. The Queen Victoria was first. A serving man eyed me suspiciously as I entered. To be fair, if i was working somewhere and someone like me walked in, I’d be suspicious. It did make me feel a bit guilty for some reason though and I was almost apologetic as I asked for a coffee. He was fine though and I soon had a drink and a nice table.

Before departure I used the loo. Urinals were busy so I popped in a cubicle and was greeted by something very strange. A solid toilet roll. Not seen one of these before and it threw me. I couldn’t cope with it. I usually pick up a loo roll, like I do a bowling ball. Must be a cardboard saving thing and I guess you get more roll instead of a big hole but come on. Polo Mints have holes, so should toilet rolls. Thinking about the bowling ball comparison, the way I bowl I’d be better of launching solid toilet rolls at the pins.

Next up was The Bull. I’d glanced at the two pub menus a couple of days before. The Bull does soup of the day with a sandwich combo for £10.50 which won the deal. I don’t do soup generally but with it now being Autumn I was game. I headed up the bar. The barmaid advised that the soup had just been changed and went off to find out what the new one was. This was far more pensive that I expected. What if it was sprout and cauliflower? I almost retched at the thought. I didn’t know soup pensiveness was a a thing. Sounds like a Manic Street Preachers song. You can have that one lads. Anyway the new soup was carrot and coriander. That with a fish finger baguette and a coffe was £14.50 Bargain. If you’re wondering why I’m on coffee, I didn’t want to be bursting for a toilet on the Underground. Bizarre yeah travelling all the way to Essex to visit two pubs and not drink? Who needs The Crazy World Of Arthur Brown when you got the baffling one of Mikee Evans?

Soup was great as was the baguette. Two good pubs these. Liked them both. Before departing this one I made another toilet visit. This one was a bit odd. Standing at the urinal and the window was open so I could see ladies walking past, and they could see me. And I think they knew what I was doing. None of them made eye contact.

I was soon back on the Central Line. Cheers Theydon Bois for a great couple of hours. I had to change at Mile End. It was just across the platform to pick up the District Line. I love the Underground. It’s a piece of piss to navigate. Even with my notoriously shit sense of direction. Going to plan b earlier in the day meant I was only using 4 of the lines rather than 5 but I still loved it. I was soon at Victoria. The signs for the coach station quickly dried up after leaving the Underground and I eventually found it via using one of those on street map things. I was glad I’d allowed myself 90 minutes for this mission as it wasn’t straightforward.

I’ve only used Victoria Coach Station on two previous occasions, so not familiar with the area so as I had time I went for a mooch around. I attempted to cross a road. Cars had stopped for red, I’d got the green man so stepped into the road. Admittedly I didn’t look right, and nearly had a coming together with a cyclist who’d decided that the red lights the cars had adhered too didn’t apply to him. Despite being in the wrong, he was not happy with me and made it very clear. I responded with 7 letters spread over two words. I’m not one for prolonged dialogue with people I don’t know. Exchange over we both went about our day.

After a stroll I discovered that I was on Buckingham Palace Road. I got excited. I’ve never seen that place live. I check another of the street maps. I was at one end of the road, Palace was at the other and it looked quite long. Like the lottery tickets in my wallet, I decided it’d keep. I’m sure it will still be there next time I’m in town. I’ve never actually done a touristy day in London so I need to get on that one day. Houses Of Parliament and Elizabeth Tower, London Eye and I’ve never been on a red London Bus. Get me on it.

I had a very pleasant amble around. I found a Shell petrol station and bought a sausage roll. I checked the pork content. I’d told Josh that this would be my new obsession, not that I need anymore of those. It was 25%. Not bad considering there is pastry to throw into the mix.

I was back inside the coach station at 5.50 in good time for the 6.30 departure. At said time though it came up on screen that it was delayed until .7.15. Typical. I could have gone to Bucking Palace after all and even had time to pop in for a cup of tea with Kate Middleton.

Eventually we departed at 7.23. Bit annoying when the coach had been parked outside, taunting us for at least 25 minutes. Journey back was uneventful. By the time we reached Birmingham I was yawning as loudly and regularly as when I’d recently watched The Long Walk at the cinema. The coach was actually going to Walsall. I’d only paid to get to Birmingham – I knew not of the Walsall stop. I’m really not one for fare dodging but as they’d been nearly an hour late in departing I thought they owe me not walking through Digbeth and waiting for the train back.

We were dropped off on Hatherton Street. At the rear of the coach my favourite taxi driver was loitering. I think we were both glad to see each other. He always does me a a decent price as he says I’m “a great guy”. I gave him a bigger tip than normal as he’d saved me walking through the bus station and hunting or a taxi.

Back home, the clock struck 23 and as my day entered its 17th hour I declared and went to bed. Fantastic day going on a 320 mile round journey for 3 coffees – no actually. Make it 4. I grabbed one from Greggs to kill some of the Victoria Coach Station “injury time”. I didn’t get up at 5.50 the next day.