Just Say No

It is a well known fact that the north and I are not the best of friends. I don’t know what it is, but we just don’t seem to get on. No matter what, we just can’t seem to see eye-to-eye. Even travelling as far as St Albans makes me feel a little queasy, and I have to prepare for the voyage. When we need to make an urgent, impromptu trip to Matalan, It takes me about 2 hours to come to terms with the fact I have to travel 10 miles north.

Last week was a very unfortunate week for the relationship between me and the north. I was in Birmingham.

Now before I continue, there may be some readers who are disappointed I have labelled Birmingham as “the north”. You may think to yourself that Birmingham is in the Midlands. Well, the Midlands is in fact a myth. There is no such thing. It is either north or south.

So, I got to the station to begin my expedition to Birmingham for a business trip (I just wanted to say “business trip” because it makes me sound older and important). In the distance, I could see the sparkling pristine train I was destined to travel on. It was a shame to see the train in such good condition, as it would inevitably become virtually destroyed the further north it travels. I had a word with one of the train staff, who was looking exceptionally depressed at the thought of travelling north, and he informed me when a train makes the journey from south to north, it has to be disposed of when it reaches its destination due to the damage from the “north air”.

The hotel staff weren't the most welcoming.

After an hour, we reached our destination, Birmingham International. We had been assured the hotel was close to the train station. This was very important to me as it meant I could spend as little time outside as possible. I battled my way through the mountain of beer cans and half eaten kebabs for about 3 hours before I finally reached the “hotel”. On the outside it looked alright. Nothing spectacular but there were flags outside, and we all know when something is important, it has flags. These flags were deceiving. They were obviously put up by the local folk to entice in unsuspected southerners, looking to find a building that looked safe (had flags) to settle down for the night before they continued their journey to the secure south.

My business associate (again, this makes me sound professional) and I entered the hotel to begin the lengthy process of checking in. Imagine you are on an exploration in the farthest depths of the Bornean rainforest and you stumble upon an indigenous tribe who have had absolutely no contact from the western world. Imagine now trying to explain to them what the internet is using only a battery and a ceramic tile. I am 110% certain that this would take you less time than it did for the hotel clerk to get to the point that they were comfortable to hand me the key to enter my room.

I dragged my suitcase over the sticky carpets, trying not to brush my shoulders against the wall, and standing at each door until someone else opened it so I didn’t have to touch the handles, and made it to my room. My shoes were ruined, but at least they were still on my feet. The room itself was a cross between a shipping container and a Romanian lunatic asylum, and had all the atmosphere of an undertaker that is about to close due to the recession.

Three nights I had to stay there. Three nights. I am never going to be the same again. According to my therapist, I am making steady progress. It doesn’t feel like it though. I may be back down in the serenity and purity of the south, but I can’t stop thinking about my days up north. The flashbacks are terrible, and I can still feel it on my skin.

For those of you above Watford (excluding Milton Keynes – my brother lives there and I am still coming to terms with the fact he is up north. It is still the south as far as I am concerned) my thoughts are with you. If you have been there for only a couple of days, then do all you can to get as far south as possible, the damage may not have been done. For those down south, if you are asked to go north just say, “I wish I could, but the volcano…”