I went to west London on Saturday after an aborted picnic was relocated to the basement of a pub. As you do. Much fun was had and I met some funny, nice and actually-quite-fit people. And some other bloggers (ha, I am funny).
As midnight approached I left a group who were heading for a curry as I needed to make my way back to Paddington to get my last train home. It was probably no more than a twenty minute walk, but I was a bit drunk so decided to get the tube. I headed to the platform as I fiddled with my new phone, and continued to do so in the near empty carriage.
The train reached its first stop, which I had expected to be Bayswater, but to my surprise, I was definitely looking at a sign that read High Street Kensington. This was either the most elaborately planned practical joke anyone has ever played on the tube, or, like an utter twat, I had gone the wrong way.
If only this were to be the only time I would call myself a twat in the next few hours.
The tube trains had now stopped in the other direction, so I headed towards the surface aware that I now had forty-five minutes to complete a probable thirty minute walk to Paddington. At this point in the story it is probably worth pointing out that I do not have a very good sense of direction. Before the advent of Satellite navigation I would regularly get lost on simple journeys, so my decision to head off on a brisk walk in the ‘general direction’ of Paddington was, in hindsight, not my best.
As the rain came down, and not a single sign-post mentioned Paddington, I started looking out for a cab, but none were forthcoming. I tried to look at a map on my phone, but it would not load. I continued to walk, now slightly concerned about missing my train. After what felt like a few days I reached a place called Princess Gate on Hyde Park, and finally had success in loading the map on my phone. I let out a slight whimper when I realised I was absolutely fucking miles from where I thought I was.
I figured I had about two miles to cover in the five minutes before my last train left the station. For some reason I began to run, but then I worked out that all this would mean is that I’d arrive sweaty, and still miss my train. So I walked instead.
An hour later, when I was still walking round in the rain, with a dead phone battery and no idea of my location, I finally admitted defeat and asked for directions. It was a humbling moment, and a pretty unpleasant one when it became clear I still had a good half-hour of walking to do, most of it back in the direction I had just come from.
When I finally reached Paddington, I checked the timetable and learned that it would be four hours before the next train left. I hailed a cab and was told it would be about sixty pounds to take me home. I am not made of money, so I resigned myself to a four hour wait at Paddington.
It was not very cold, and the station was quiet, so nothing else could go wrong, surely?
(Continued tomorrow)
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AFC 30K · August 20, 2007 at 9:30 am
Oh dear Angry – I wait in anticipation until tomorrow.
Anna · August 20, 2007 at 10:17 am
Poor wet, cold, miserable Angry….HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…I can’t wait!
Dominic · August 20, 2007 at 10:29 am
I remember leaving my GF one Sunday night to head home via the M25. God only knows how, but I managed to go the wrong way, and not notice for about three junctions… in fact, if it weren’t for the sudden absence of overhead lights, I might not have noticed until I hit Dartford.
Sickening, isn’t it? Not only have you wasted the time going the wrong way, you have to spend just as long going back the way you came before you can start going the way you should have gone all along..
Admin comment by Mr Angry · August 20, 2007 at 11:10 am
AFC – There is a bit more to come yet, unfortunately.
Anna – You forgot tired.
Dominic – Yes, it is exactly like that except I was OUTSIDE IN THE RAIN!
AFC 30K · August 20, 2007 at 11:51 am
This tale sounds more like a Scary Duck tale of Mirth and Woe (although admitedly, not much mirth for you…)
Peach · August 20, 2007 at 12:25 pm
a very familiar story I’m afraid, from anyone in London going anywhere in our outside London late at night. Transport SUCKS
Hope nothing else too dreadful happened – must involve tramps and/or police / locking up the station / lack of food, drink or shelter…. ???
Admin comment by Mr Angry · August 20, 2007 at 12:43 pm
AFc – It seems amusing now, but not at the time.
Peach – That is scarily prescient…
Kate · August 20, 2007 at 1:20 pm
Sounds awful… was krispy kreme shut too?!
Megan · August 20, 2007 at 1:23 pm
I trusted someone once to know basic things like what towns resided north or south of his home and ended up almost-but-not-quite visiting Louisiana. And yes, I did hear banjos.
gnarlyswine · August 20, 2007 at 2:33 pm
It truly is a sinking feeling going the wrong way. I recall a similar event in my youth…cue wobbly effect….
Having enjoyed an evenings debauchery in Glasgow in my now distant youth I had failed to keep note of the departure of the last train to Edinburgh (my then home) Being late in the evening,inebriated and stuck in Glasgow city centre I thought better of trying to check into a hotel, and instead decided to salvage a piece of Carpet from a Skip and spent the night under it, In a play park (Garnett Hill for those who know it), In Scotland, On the top of a hill, In october.
After a nights convulsions due to the temperature hovering around absolute zero I set off bright and early (or late depending how you look at it) to catch the first train home from Queen street Station. After a wonderfull journey (I got the 4 seats to myself – wonder why – Oh yes I was wearing white trousers on which I had spilled half a bottle of Bright red aftershock so looked like i was covered in blood and smelled of alcohol and cinnamon). I managed to fall asleep just as I was coming to the outskirts of edinburgh, and missed my stop (Haymarket) as a result. I then woke up in The Waverly – to a nice half hour walk home, as I had no frickin change for the bus.
Asshats.
Dont take it the wrong way Angry, but I do hope you fared worse, as it will make that memory feel a little better.
bittersweet me · August 20, 2007 at 6:32 pm
*holding breathe*
Jo · August 20, 2007 at 6:47 pm
Oh, you tease.
My bloke tried to walk from Maida Vale to Kensington without asking for directions, failed miserably and I think ended up by Hyde Park as well. Maybe it’s like a meeting place for people who have gone the wrong way.
Four Dinners · August 20, 2007 at 7:35 pm
If you spent a night at Paddington and are still walking straight legged as opposed to bow legged you are either very lucky or exceptionally ugly…
There’s an all night cafe not far. Full of druggies n winos but the food n coffee is first class.
Betty · August 20, 2007 at 8:35 pm
I would have paid the sixty pounds.
Or got a cab from High Street Kensington to Paddington.
You tight wad.
Equine Pimp · August 20, 2007 at 9:12 pm
I once got so pissed that I left Blackfriars at 9 and it took me 3 and a half hours to get to Potters Bar. This journey can be done in 40 minutes.
Most of the journey is a blur but I do remember going to Mile End.
That is definitely NOT the short route
ninja chinchilla · August 20, 2007 at 11:16 pm
Well at least in London you have the option of the tube/trains/night bus. Down West Country way it’s taxis or nowt.
bob · August 21, 2007 at 12:26 am
probably doesn’t help to know at this point … but there was a spare room at ours, about a 10-minute walk from Paddington.
Oli · August 21, 2007 at 8:36 am
And wheres the follow on?
GH · August 21, 2007 at 11:50 am
Reminds me of a friend I had at Uni who missed the last train back to Guildford from the Ram Cider pub and decided to walk it (a few miles). He was stopped by the police on the way back, apparently that happens if you’re carrying a road sign and a flashing light. Despite being totally bladdered, he still managed to talk them into giving him a lift back home. And it was his room, not the one with the metal door and no sheets on the bed.
But then, he is a spawny git
GH.
Anna · August 21, 2007 at 4:02 pm
I’m guessing we’ll get the second part of the story when he finally gets home then?
AFC 30K · August 21, 2007 at 4:47 pm
You just can’t get the bloggers these days.
He’s gone missing before and just turned up again a few days later with out so much as a by-your-leave.
Can you all please check your garages and sheds he might have been accidentally locked in…
TC · August 21, 2007 at 5:53 pm
This is worse then during the summer, when Wimbledon means you have to wait 2+ weeks for the next episode of Neighbours….
Anna · August 21, 2007 at 11:04 pm
Do you think he’s neglecting us because he’s finally found a girlfriend? I dunno, he doesn’t phone, he doesn’t write…I feel dumped!
Admin comment by Mr Angry · August 21, 2007 at 11:25 pm
It is OK, I am alive.
I just had a take a quick business trip to a country with no internet. You will read about it in the morning.
And THEN read the rest of the story about my journey home…
melanie · August 21, 2007 at 11:36 pm
Oh dear. *hands him a hot cup of tea, a blanket, and a shot of whiskey*