Yesterday was Fleetwood away. If there is a chance to visit Blackpool, you have to do it. “Dems da rules” to quote Johnny Vaughan. Football, pubs and a catch up with Blackpool Jane had to be done. It’s always a good night with Jane. My evening up there with her last year was superb and you can catch up with it here.

I set off and got to Birmingham New Street. Oh, the joy. The escalator was working. As I sat there an announcement broke out about an escalator and a couple of lifts not working followed shortly by another. Announcing escalator and lifts not working? Must be a full-time job there.

They had to break away from these joyous announcements thought to mention the cancellation of a train to Manchester due to “overhead wire damage” at Stafford. Another cancellation, this one to London popped up on screen. Finally, my train to Preston, going onto Glasgow popped up as 20 minutes late and now only going to Wolverhampton.

On the platform we were told that rail replacement buses would be provided at Wolvo to get us to Stafford then it was down to ourselves to use different operators to conclude our journeys.

 2 Cardiff fans trying to get to Blackburn were looking at options on their phones with one summarising “we’re fucked.”

At Wolverhampton the queue for the rail replacement bus was humongous. After about 15 minutes an employee made an announcement. “There is a train on platform 2 that is going to Stafford and Crewe only.” I’ve been mulling overnight how to describe the ensuring scene. Imagine the start of the London Marathon but with non-athletes carrying bags and suitcases. On the platform a man fell over as the scramble to get on board occurred. I managed to squeeze into a gap in the little area between coach e and f. Someone else tried to join us and got daggers and quizzical looks from those around me.

We departed and an announcement rang out. “This train is for Glasgow” and listed all the stops which included Preston. Result. He didn’t list Stafford. He concluded with “we will not be stopping at Stafford you shouldn’t have been told that.” There were sighs and mutterings from those around me. They all wanted Stafford. The train hurtled through said station for some added bantz.

At Crewe, lots of folk got off including the Stafford delegation and I manged to find a seat. It was someone’s birthday so we had a coach wide sing song of “Happy birthday to you” which lifted the mood. 

On the train to Blackpool, I was completely ignored by the female ticket inspector. Talk about story of my life. I got into Blackpool just 22 minutes late which was remarkable considering all the delays. However, 22 minutes is late enough to claim compensation so sod it. I will. Good job I’m now an expert at Avanti’s delay repay scheme.

Josh was already in Blackpool so rushed to meet me at the station and came baring Greggs sausage rolls for me. What a man.

My hotel check in wasn’t until 2 but I’d been hoping to drop my bag in earlier. This plan appeared to be scuppered when I’d received a text en route advising it was a self-check in operation and the code they sent for the front door wouldn’t activate till 2. Josh was like “let’s go anyway and see what we can do.”

Well, the front door was open so that was a good start, he found a enquiries number and rang it pretending to be me to explain the situation.

The plan worked. We were allowed to drop my bag in the room but my God, Josh needs to work on his impression of me. He made me sound quite eloquent rather than my usual common twang.

We headed to Fleetwood and Flights Sports Bar. Plenty of fellow Saddlers in like Pez, Laura, Deano, Kerry, Matt, Kimbo, John and Shelley. 

It was good in there and the staff put a tray of free shots on the bar. In all my years as an away fan drinker, I’ve never known this. Old me would have partaken. We were pretty much the last ones in there. One lovely barmaid told me they staying open if we wanted to remain. Old me would definitely have considered this.

The match wasn’t great. The wind had a chill to it; it was blowing a gale. Half way through the half it added rain to its arsenal, blowing it straight onto us. I thought longingly of the pile of beanie hats on my living room table that I usually refuse to wear until December. I also thought of my rain coat which had made the trip up north but was currently relaxing in my hotel room. I also thought of Flights still being open

I’ve never seen us win at Fleetwood and it never looked likely yesterday. They took the lead and their bloke celebrated like he’d scored against Arsenal. We really weren’t great; we’d had more shots in Flights but this Walsall team doesn’t give up and we grabbed an equaliser. I’d seen something earlier in the day that avoid defeat and we’d equal our best unbeaten start to a season of 9 games and we did. 

Josh and his entourage headed for The Strawberry Gardens but I had to be in Cleveleys to meet Jane. 

It had been good to see Laura, Joe, Ryan, Ian, Asps and Catta in the ground and Derek on the way to the tram. 

The tram was rammed and it was my second crammed in like a sardine experience of the day. The tram itself was making creaking noises like I do upom getting out of bed in yhe morning.

I was pleased to be getting off in Cleveleys, only halfway back to Blackpool although one fellow Saddler seemed reluctant to let me get off and I had to plead and state where I was going.

Jane was in The District a new bar which used to be a bank – obviously it gives me more interest now. The bar surface is made of coins and they had the set of those NatWest pig piggy banks from the 80’s. I rushed up the bar to buy the drinks and paid making the kind of direct debit I’m most comfortable with.

Jane went to use the loo and came back reporting them as “the most outstanding toilets ever” and that I needed to see them. The chairs were very soft and bouncy although I had to pose in the Big Brother Diary Room style one. 

“You didn’t visit the loo” Jane exclaimed as we made a withdrawal of ourselves from the premises. “Oh poo” I replied. Literally. I’ll cheque them out next time. She did send me pictures though. And I’ll cease with the bank puns now.

Wobblinn was next, A fabulous micropub boasting black country pork pies, Bathams and cobs with meat from Midlands farms. Definitely trying to make me feel at home. 

There were England flags, beer pump clips, funny signs and a guitar on the wall. A keyboardist was providing entertainment. Doctor Doctor went into Devil Woman, a segway Absolutely 80s can only dream of. I Don’t Mind Mondays got a rendition. I joined in as it’s a stance, I’m usually au fait with but I’m currently ambivalent to Mondays having had the last one off along with tomorrow as well. Gary Timmins, who I’d seen outside the ground was also in thoroughly enjoying himself.

The Victoria was next. A Sam Smiths pub which reopened last week after a 3-year closure. When I was in the Sam Smiths pub in Sheffield, with retired Martin, he introduced me to an alcohol-free Sam Smiths beer so I had that again in his honour. You can catch up on that day here. 

Jane liked the glass that her beer came with and commented that she would take a picture of it. Mobile phones are banned in Sam Smiths pubs so I asked if the ban had been lifted, to get a firm no.

This is a great pub. Very traditional and I hope it does well. 

We moved on. Jane was brought up in Cleveleys and gave a running commentary of places as we wandered along. I imagine I’d do the same to visitors to Walsall.

We both needed vital nutrients so Fayez Tandoori was next. On entry we were advised it was cash only. We had to see how much we’d got between us. I knew I had £35 in notes and loads of shrapnel. 

I was glad nobody saw me counting out pound coins onto the menu. If The District had retained a cashpoint or two, we could have nipped back there. We had a sharer platter starter which was ace. Jane did more sharing than I did. I was comfortable with this. My chicken tikka masala was epic. At the end the friendly waiter came over and talked about the food and even explained about the different grades of Ghee butter that they use. What a top Gheezer. We saw Gary in there too. 3rd time I’d seen him that day. He owes me a signed match ball. 

Post food, which we’d got enough money to pay for we had a committee meeting. We were heading to Backstage next, a fairly new but already legendary live music venue. It was late and we were both stuffed from food. Jane offered to shout a Uber and drop me at my hotel which was on the way to her place. It was motion carried. She opened the app. “Right, we’re not in Pink Nails And Spa” she said. “We’re not, but I could really do with going” I replied. Our driver would be arriving in 4 minutes in a beige car.

I had to make a scene upon departure banging the door into the wall and somehow not breaking the glass. I was apologising profusely as I hit the stairs.

Our car arrived and after a brief discussion with the driver as we both believed his car to be silver, we set off.

We were held up by a car driving slowly with its hazards on. I commented that we didn’t need more flashing lights. The illuminations had it covered.” Two minutes later the driver said “he’s making his own illuminations” and laughed at himself. I’m not inviting him to my next stand up. He’ll nick all of my material.

Jane mentioned that Toyah designed one of the illuminations. I don’t know which one it was. It’s a mystery to me. 

I was soon back in my room with the kettle on, albeit after advancing into the porch of the wrong hotel initially.