The British Championships

Last weekend was the second of the Major Championships of the year, being the
British Championships held in Banbridge, Northern Ireland. The big advantage of
this event was that it meant I could actually get some time off work for the
event. Huzzah!

We were scheduled to leave Falkirk at 10:30 on Friday morning in order to
catch a 3:00 ferry to Northern Ireland, and thus get to the hotel about 6. In
the event, however, our bus was delayed by the traffic in Edinburgh, so we left just before 11. Still, no matter. We had allocated an extra 90 minutes for the journey, so that was plenty of time.

I forget who it was, but just as we passed Glasgow someone asked, "Can you smell burning?"

Sure enough, when we looked backwards, the door to the on-board toilet was open, and black smoke was emerging. Naturally, there then followed an inquest into who had had the curry the previous night. However, once it was established that no vindaloo was harmed in the preparation of this journey, we were forced to stop.

And so, we found ourselves enjoying the sunshine on the side of the M77 just past East Kilbride. Fun times!

About 90 minutes later, a police driver saw us, lit up his lights, and stopped. He then had to explain to the driver of the gray van than he had not, in fact, intended to pull him over, but rather was coming to talk to us. Minutes later, our repair team arrived. Then another, and another, and then one of those mobile "Police Incident" signs.

It was all quite exciting. Fortunately, it was dry and sunny, though I was starting to regret my choice to not wear sunblock.

Eventually, we got going again, having well and truly missed our ferry. We phoned them, and were told we could get on a later ferry at 8pm (instead of 3), which would get us to the hotel about midnight. Better than nothing, I guess. We were lucky enough to be called back and be offered a space on the 4:30 ferry.

The ferry journey was positively dull by contrast, punctuated only by a very expensive steak-and-guiness pie. Also, we took the opportunity to mock M for his lack of subtlety while checking out all the cute girls. He's sixteen, and hasn't quite realised the joys of peripheral vision.

Once we had arrived in Larne, we set off for the hotel. Cunningly, we decided not to tell the driver where we were actually staying, which led to him driving right past the hotel, and on towards Banbridge. It wasn't until some time into the journey that someone thought to question this, and we turned around and went back. Still, we got to the hotel just after 8.

We were staying in the Hilton in Belfast. I'm not entirely sure how, but we managed to get a deal on the rooms so that we stayed for £30 per head. Still, the point had to be made (and then repeated) that we were getting a really good price on a really expensive hotel: under no circumstances should anyone eat at the restaurant, open the mini-bar, or otherwise run up a bill.

A quick shave, shower and change of clothes later (as per my guide to surviving the long journey), and we went out on the town. The first order of business was to find a McDonalds for the kids - apparently Pizza Hut is an inadequate substitute. Then, as they returned to the hotel, it was on to a pub and some Guiness. About 11, some of the members of our team elected to head back, but I and one other headed to another pub. It seemed wasteful to retire so early.

In the event, we called it a night just before midnight, recognising that it was important to remain fresh for the morning. (Later, I would be texted and asked if I had "pulled yet". This confidence in my good looks and charm is both touching and sorely misplaced... in any event, that had never been my intent. I am not actually a free agent these days.)

Sleeping in an unfamiliar bed is not easy. And this summer it is nigh-impossible to find a room that is not excessively warm. Even the other side of the pillow isn't as cool as normal. Fortunately, I had allocated six hours for sleep, which was plenty. I was then woken just after five by the Americans in the next room, who had missed their alarm call and desperately needed to tell the world of this misfortune.

Another shower, the application of sunblock, and a dressing later, and I was in fighting trim for the day. It being too early for breakfast, I then went for a short walk in the sunshine, then returned to the hotel at the appointed hour.

I must say, the breakfast was the high-point of the weekend. It was, quite simply, the finest breakfast I have ever eaten in any hotel anywhere. Although there was almost an ambush by some black pudding, before I realised my mistake (not haggis).

Thus refreshed, we piled onto the bus and went to the competition. Spirits were high - one person had had food poisoning in the night, most of us were sleep-deprived, and there was one really bad sore head (actually not caused by alcohol this time). So, we got there, we wandered for a while, we gathered again, we made our preparations, and we waited our turn.

The proportion of the time we spent playing is comparable to the proportion of this post that is dedicated to it. Despite all our preparations, the moment we started playing for real the mistakes started coming thick and fast. There was the usual early-E, the bad blowing, sloppy play of the tunes... It was bad.

We were in a qualifying group of seven bands. Of those seven, six would go on to compete in the final. We came seventh. And so, we travelled for ten hours on each of two consecutive days in order to compete for a grand total of three minutes.

We hung around for a while, then returned to Belfast (rather than continue dwelling on our failure). We then split up, with me going with a few others first to McDonalds for lunch, then to a park for a sit, then to a coffee house for some shade, and then rejoining the others in a pub for one final drink. (Yes, this is a story of many pubs. I make no excuse.)

The journey home was considerably less pleasant than the journey out. For a start, everyone was depressed. Many people were drunk. It was hot, and close, and sticky. The toilet smelled worse (and, even worse, there developed an insistence on spraying it was absurd amounts of air freshener, despite the toxic chemicals therein and the complete lack of circulation). And it seemed to take much longer, despite actually being a lot faster.

The ferry featured a vastly overpriced chicken tikka masala (still, better than the steak pie), and then a number of card games.

And then we raced to get home before midnight, at which point the bus would turn into a pumpkin. (We didn't make it, and were forced to gnaw our way out.)

And so, that was the weekend. All in all, it was actually a good weekend, albeit a very disappointing result. It also leaves us with a lot of work to do - we have to get out of this habit of losing.