OK Baggy!

You're right - I have been lax in returning to fully document my weekend!

I guess a good weekend starts with a slow Friday night - i.e. not going to the Bishops Finger and drinking my weight in Spitfire/Bishops Finger/Master Brew or Porter* (*delete whichever is on tap at the time). Dad was right with his well told phrase - 'Shepherd Neame - Shit 'n' Scream', as vast quantities of any of the above beers does have a tendency to put me in a rather bad way the next day. Anyway this Friday I restricted myself to a pint and a half. Got home in good time and was able to organise washing etc. Saturday morning I awoke fresh as a daisy and set about tidying up, hanging washing out and generally getting set for an early show at Victoria.

I was on target. I even had a good chat with the man at Victoria Station ticket office about who the Gills who playing and our distinct need for 3 points. Got the early train, thus avoiding the Tit and read 'Angry White Pyjamas' - thankfully there were few Brentford fans on board! Once at Gillingham I undertook my marathon stomp to meet Dad at the car (always confuses other home fans as I am walking away for the ground!) - certainly helps get my steps on a Saturday up to 10,000. Smiled inwardly as Dad relayed his week, the 'dad version', having had the 'mum version' via text message. I suspect that after 37 years of wedded bliss there are going to be times when there is either nothing to say or everything that is said is due to tedium or mild irritation?! Either way as the only offspring in the country able to listen, I do tend to get both sides! It's what makes me love them!

So having successfully made contact with Pop, we ranged our way back towards Priestfield concerned at what lay ahead. Well Gillingham won - screamer from Jackman sealed it. There were a few shining lights but on the whole I was guilty of my attention wandering off to other directions. It's amazing what you think about at football when you're not 100% into the game, I am sure if I remembered half my brain waves I'd be a millionaire! So 3 points in the bag I sped off to the station and got the slow train back to London - so whilst I missed the Tit I did have to share my journey with a bunch of very disgruntled Brentford fans!! Oops. From what I could gather a few of their number had been chucked out before/during the game and as such they had not yet managed to see an entire game at Priestfield.. oh well. Drinks in, sense out and all that.

I did though manage to get back to London without verbal abuse or bruises, and still defiant as a Gills fan - I had seen my team win - always a pleasure! However whilst sat just outside Victoria station waiting for the green light to let us into the station I noticed some of the great buildings which flank the sides of the station. Looking closely I tried to work out how many flats on each floor and judging from the chimney pots at the top of each chimney stack I would reckon quite a few. I got a real sense of how these flats had evolved as I imagine they have been there for almost a century - with their windows bricked up and the smoke that no doubt used to pump from each flat.. very intricate designs. What sort of noise pollution and view does a tenant of one of those places have?

The slow train also takes a different route through Sarf London so trying to spot where is goes as opposed to the fast train is also a fascination I have... many passengers I suspect just pass by and not really take time to notice or contemplate such thoughts. I see it as our history - compare these aging monsters to the new purposes build apartments on the other side of the river with their coloured panels and curved windows! Progress?

Anyway in the spirit of 'not noticing' my next mission was to be home in time for Doctor Who... and when my tardis arrives I'll let you know how that went and of course Sunday!