Category: England

The Big Reunion in Skegness, England, December 2006

Posted on by Jonny Blair
The Big Reunion in Skegness, England, December 2006

I was walking past Fulham Broadway station in July 2006 trying to sort out my car parking permit, having just moved to London. Then my phone rang and it was John Johnson who was in Ibiza. John is one of my mates, I used to live with him for a while and I know him through Neil Macey. I answered and John was on his own and in Ibiza. He said to me “what are you doing the first weekend in December?” Of course that was 5 months away so I said I had no idea, but John likes to plan lunatic ideas in advance, so he said “Fancy going to an Ibiza reunion weekend in Skegness?” I had to deliberate over it and said I’d phone him back. I boarded a bus, and John phoned again. “I need to know now, I’m about to book it!” So…”Why the fuck not I thought!” Suddenly John and I were booked on a Big Reunion Weekend for Ibiza in Skegness. I’d never ever been to Skegness, I’d never ever been to Ibiza!!!

And then it arrived. Friday 1st December 2006 we were booked on an 8 am party coach with the other London-based attendees…the night before I had finished work happy, off for 3 days, just been a nominee for Bite Employee Star of the Month (Wahey!!), passed my review in work and we went to Shepherd’s Bush Empire to watch The Bluetones, one of my long lost favourite Brit pop bands, so everything was going well! Then up early and we caught the Slade Green – Charing Cross train, did the walk to Embankment station and then the district line tube to Victoria (the normal way I’d have gone had I been working) and there we were waiting for this party bus. John and I sat beside each other at the start on the bus, and I was a bit tired so grabbed some sleep. The bus would take a few hours with one stop off for breakfast.

Skegness is in Lincolnshire, which was unventured territory for me. It is by the north sea, which again is a sea I’d never seen. We were booked to stay at Butlins holiday camp, it was one of those 18-30s packages things that John had booked us on. I’m bloody glad I went, as I’m 28 now and it doesn’t look like I’ll get another chance to do an 18-30s holiday again. On the bus after I awoke, John had moved to the back and was now leading the singing as ever with Prodigy’s “Out Of Space” and DJ Otzi’s “Hey Baby Ooh Aah!” getting an airing. I was still not yet ready for the party, but as the bus approached Lincolnshire I had beer in hand and was loving it! Soon we were parked up at Skegness, given our welocme pack for the weekend, including the DO NOT LOSE GOLD WRISTBAND, our room keys, we shared on the top floor of a place near the far right (the furthest block from the sea), with two other lads from Surrey – Chris and Dan, both of whom were on our bus. We got to know them quickly and soon had decided to head into the main Butlins centre and start on the beers. I don’t remember what time it was…

Three other lads from our bus, Glenn (a West Ham fan), Terry and another Dan all from Essex joined us as we all chipped in £20 into a kitty, that made it £100 pot in the middle and we started on the beers at the main bar in Butlins, Skegness. The bar was called The Front Room, and was indoors, as outside it was cold and starting to rain. Once in there it was obvious that there were more blokes than ladies, so we quickly came up with a plan to chat up any ladies and invite them to our table. I did this, as it comes easy to me. The first two to join us were Melissa and Rachel, both blonde northerners from Rochdale. Melissa was very attractive, sadly had a boyfriend and straight away there were 7 of us who could become mates for the whole weekend. We were making friends fast and John was loving it! A few beers later and we had said we would go back to the flat to eat and chill out, but that obviously didn’t happen. There was no strict dress code, so we decided just to do a pub tour of Butlins!

There were certainly plenty of bars around. The next one was Bar Rosso, which was a round bar with a small dancefloor at the back, it was fairly packed and we danced for a while in there, before moving back to The Front Room. We met a lovely flirty English girl there called Chizelle, and I kept tryin to look up her skirt! By this stage many were in fancy dress and many were drunk. Me and Glenn started teaching each other football songs, including his West Ham songs “chu chu chu…Nigel Reo Coker” and me learning them “Away In A Manger”, a Northern Ireland song. Glenn also took a photo using his mobile phone which was up Chizelle’s skirt and he sent me it in a picture message, it was hilarious and soon we had moved on to the outside pub through the doors towards the beach. This was a much quieter and nicer pub, and it led into a strip club, which we made it into just before midnight and a performance. The girls were still with us, and we only stayed there for one beer before deciding to move back to the Front Room.

After this it really all became a blur, but we ended up in the club part upstairs near the main entrance, “Centre Stage” it was called. I remember chatting up many and various young ladies in there, getting the odd snog and settling for heading back out into the main arena for last orders, where I perched myself on my own waiting for John by the bar. At this point I got talking to two ladies, and they said “where did you go on holiday?” “Nowhere” I said, as not everyone who goes to “The Big Reunion” actually went to “The Union” to start with, and I was one of those randoms! These two ladies, whose names now strangely escape me (The mind loses information as we age…) said “We’re from Bournemouth”. “Really, I said?” showing them my AFC Bournemouth tattoo and saying “I spent 3 years living in Bournemouth and plan to go back!” They were shocked I was such a mad Bournemouth fan yet with a Northern Irish accent, and then I said my name, Jonny Blair. “Oh, that rings a bell, I’ve heard of you before” one of them said. “One of my housemates knows you”. Already intrigued I thought who is this??

It turned out to be the housemate of Natalie Johnson, what a small world! I had met Natalie Johnson in 2003, as she was the Vice President of Communications in the Students Union at Bournemouth University, she had helped with Nerve Radio, Nerve TV and she had been the voice of “Big Brother” in the university’s spoof “The Lock In” which I partook in. I actually knew her quite well and had also had a few drinks with her at events and in student bars throughout the years. She’s a gorgeous girl actually. Even just two months before Skegness, I met her again at an Apple event in Blackfriars, as I was doing PR and she was writing for a Mac magazine. Now in the sublime location of North Sea Lincolnshire, there was me and her housemate…They joked that they would leave one of my business cards on Natalie’s pillow for her one night to freak her out and then tell her that they met me! Of all the places I could have been and people I could have spoke to, it was certainly a bizarre coincidence. We got chatting, nothing more, even if I wanted sex with both of them, and Natalie…and then John came back and we thought, “it must be gone 3 am, we’ll get some sleep, a decent breakfast and get ready for the big night the next day!

Me and John were up early, the other two lads we had to waken and then we made our way to the breakfast place, where everything was included in the price so I found myself having a full fried breakfast, unlimited tea and orange juice. In there we met two girls from Chelmsford, Holly and Vicky. I chatted both up and we all agreed to go swimming together in the indoor pool in the Butlins complex. There was me, John, Glenn, both Dans, Terry and Chris, plus the two new girls. They both looked hot in their bikinis, I seemed to keep staring at their breasts that morning. I was hungover and the swim did a really good job, especially all the big water flumes and the toadstools which soak you. It was a great relaxed morning. We had a look at our timetables and agendas and decided to watch the sex show just after midday, I remember I got near the front for this.

I took a few photos of the sex show, but they didn’t come out too clearly. The girls went fully nude, they were all waxed down in the fanny region, which I don’t always like, but they writhed about on stage on top of each other and squeezing their boobs in front of a big crowd. Me and John had started on the beers, and soon there were male strippers on as well. They stopped once they got to their underpants much to the girls annoyance, but one of them slipped his willy out, which was actually banned for some reason in the venue, even though everyone was over 18 and the girls had already done nude! I had another few drinks at the back with John, before we decided we wanted to see the football matches on the TV, which were being shown in Reds.

Bournemouth were playing Bristol Rovers away and it was FA Cup weekend, so I was glued to the box in Reds from 3 pm till 6 pm. From 1-0 down, Bournemouth snatched a late draw, which kept my spirits up and kept me happy for the night. After another pint, John and I (it was just us two at this point) headed to one of the other bars in the complex, where I chatted up Amy from Newcastle. In that bar Amy had two other mates join us as well as some random girls who we chatted away to. Then in walked Glenn and Chris dressed as pimps! They had bought orange and purple pimp outfits in the meantime and were up for a real big party. The two Dans plus Terry came back soon after this and we also decided we would go and see the rock music in the other club that night, before heading to the main stage for dance floor mayhem…

There was also the part of the night where I called at Amy’s flat (well, for the weekend) and ended up watching her get changed, I quite fancied her actually and flirted with her, but she didn’t seem keen on me, as it was a one off weekend i thought she would have been up for it, but no…Anyway we partied all night and watched a band called “The Fratellis”, I remember jumping up and down distinctly to the song “Chelsea Dagger”, though at the time I had no idea of what the song was called. John was moving all over the arena that night chatting up many and various girls. He was 31 at the time and truly was having a great time. I was a mere 26 and never thought it would be my last proper piss up “teenage style” and I think in many ways it was. There was the constant drinking, the binging, the partying, the idocacy (yes, at one point I even got into a smelly bin and was pushed around the floor in it…), the flirting and the overall carnage of what happened in Skegness. We ended up in there until last orders, I remember buying a cheap VK Ice at the bar just as they were shutting.

We were back to bed within an hour, it must have been about 5 am, I’d had a few snogs during the weekend, but no use for my willy, so would start all over again on the quest for the lady. There was always the breakfast, the farewells and the long bus journey south to London…We got up early and got packed all ready to leave. We joined Chris and Dan for breakfast, munching and drinking all we could, taking advantage of the food and drink which was all included. In the cold north sea breeze of Lincolnshire, I had my last walk down towards the sea and stared out at Norway. Then we met all the girls from the previous two nights (Rachel, Melissa, Amy…) and said our emotional goodbyes. However John and I were on the same bus home as both Dans, Chris, Glenn and Terry. We finished off the last few tins of Carlsberg on that bus home as we drove through really distant Lincolnshire countryside. We passed signposts for Grimsby and Cleethorpes and I looked out in vain looking to see if I could notice Blundell Park (Grimsby Town FC) in the skyscape. But no luck.
On the bus we spoke to the simply gorgeous Fiona and her friend Louise who were excellent eye candy on a tired and weary trip home. We did stop at a motorway service station somewhere near Peterborough where I grabbed some sleazy Burger King meal and watched Salisbury play Nottingham Forest in the FA Cup 2nd round. I couldn’t tell you the score or indeed what happened on the rest of the coach journey home. John and I were shattered, we said our goodbyes to our new friends, none of whom I’ve seen since (though kept in touch via text message and facebook.com). I convinced John to go for that one last pint on the way home, we picked a bar I’ll never remember at either Victoria or Charing Cross and we headed back to Dartford Kent. I got up around 6 am the next morning after 6 hours sleep. I was absolutely knackered but headed into work early via a “Benjy’s” (Yes that company that has since gone bust!) breakfast and a well needed cup of the Earl Grey. It had been a long 18 – 30s weekend and well worth doing, once in your lifetime…

When Was It? – 1st – 3rd December 2006

Where Was It? – Butlins, Skegness, Lincolnshire, England:
http://www.butlinsonline.co.uk/index.cfm?page=8463

http://www.butlins-skegness.com/

What Was It – The Big Reunion Weekend, meant to be for those who partied in Ibiza July – August 2006:
http://www.thebigreunion.com/news.php

Who Went – Jonny Blair, John Johnson, Amy Coverdale, Dan Rankin, Chris, Glenn, Rachel Hopwood, Dan, Melissa, Charmaine, Fiona, Holly, Louise, many others…

Public Relations Work: Apple’s Christmas in August (2006)

Posted on by Jonny Blair

 

Public Relations Work: Apple’s Christmas in August (2006)

I was lucky enough to work for Bite Communications during 2006 – 2007 and my main client was Apple, so naturally I was invited to loads of excellent, exciting events. Looking back, it all happened in a flash, and it kind of passed me by. Apple as a client was always very demanding, even though the amount of hours we spent on them was above and beyond what we were paid for! So after a month or so in the job, I was making phonecalls for Apple’s “Christmas in August” event. This might sound crazy and way too early, but its not…journalists and PR practitioners work many months in advance and most of our product placing and media outreach for Christmas would be done as early as August, especially for monthly and quarterly publications, who aren’t just quite as instant as online, television or radio media.

Public Relations Work: Apple’s Christmas in August (2006)

We did have targets to reach, something like 30 journalists would be expected to attend a behind closed doors private event held by Apple (computer giant) in order to promote our (their) many products in the run up to Christmas. At that particular point in time, it was iMacs, iPods and MacBooks. The iPhone and more up to date iPods hadn’t been released, and the iPod shuffle was much larger than it is now. The event was to be held in a nice room at the Hannover Street offices in London, round the corner from the Apple Store on Regent Street. The idea would be to have one room full of Apple products, turned on, ready for use as well as many and various other companies products which could be used with Apple products. This included companies such as Belkin and Nike.

Working at Bite Communications

The preparation for the event began a few weeks before the actual “Christmas in August”, which was scheduled for Wednesday 23rd August 2006. The preparation meant knowing which products would be on display on the day, the decor of the room, the journalists to invite, and just the overall set up on the day. When I started working on the Apple account, my contact there was a lady called Jennifer Delaney (which by coincidence, and just to confuse me was also the name of a London based technology journalist) who was in a similar position to me, a “placement student”, a title which I hasten to add I didn’t enjoy or promote. I saw myself as just the same as everyone else at Bite, even if I was on a lower grade of pay. By the time the “Christmas in August” event came round, Jennifer had been replaced by another “placement student” called Michelle Husain.

It was said that I should know Michelle Husain, as she was also a Public Relations student at Bournemouth University. The name didn’t ring any bells however, and even over the phone I couldn’t work out who she was. We had studied in different years (me in 2003, Michelle in 2004) at the university and as I was part time and working two jobs, I didn’t really know or connect with many people on the actual course. When I met Michelle however I recognised her to see, but had never previously spoken to her. She’s really not the sort of lady, character, personality or looks wise that I feel comfortable talking to or being friendly with. However in the business world we all have to, and so we worked together in the run up to the event.

The Apple team at Bite consisted of Robin Wilson (an Associate Director), Karen Hardinge (a Director), Andrea Christopherson & Jonathan Hopkins (Managers), Rich Rust and Sally Plant (Senior Accounts Executives), and me I was an Accounts Assistant. Some of my tasks for the event were strange in the extreme! One of them involved sourcing and buying some “Christmas tree style” lanterns/lights, which were white. I found many white Christmas trees online, but in August it wasn’t the right month for delivery and the specific ones that Jonathan Hopkins and Apple had requested were hard to find, in the end we got them – I can’t really describe what they were – just white luminous twirly twisty Christmas style “trees” to give the room that Apple feel. I also had to source some crocodile clips on silver stands to hold cards up, this again took forever to find, I even searched through Oxford Street and Carnaby Street on one of my days of looking for these specific clips. Even Paperchase and Liberty didn’t stock them, but we finally found them and everything was ordered and arriving in time for the event.

Then there was the big thing – the most important thing – inviting and securing the attendance of journalists! As PR practitioners, it was Sally Plant, Rich Rust and I who had to phone round MANY and EVERY technology journalist from national and regional TV, radio, magazine, online and newspaper. This ranged from Apple based magazines such as iCreate and Macworld to The Daily Telegraph to BBC to Shiny Shiny online. There was a massive target list drawn up by the experts at Bite and Apple, I’d say around 250 names were on it. I remember feeling a bit under pressure at the time, as there was a need to secure 30 journalists to attend the event, and Tanya Ridd, the main boss at PR within Apple was very demanding of these sorts of targets, on an ongoing basis! It took me a few weeks, spending about 2 hours of my office time a day, making the calls, sending follow up invites, forwarding emails, leaving messages etc. for a huge range of journalists. The time consuming element of this is hard to believe, as we first had to look up the publication on “Gorkana” and then get the phone number for the journalist, then hope they answered and then follow it up with an email to confirm the time and dates. Everything had to be right. Each day I would have to let my team know who I had secured to attend, it was normally Andrea Christopherson who would ask and demand of me, and she was a very very nice manager to have. Looking back she was very hard working, and always kept me right, even though I had often made mistakes (through lack of experience in PR, I’d say…). I grew very fond of the Apple team during my time at Bite, and still see it as a cherished time of my life. Not many people can say they have done the UK PR for Apple…

The day of the event arrived, and I was smartened up (well nice shirt, trousers, aftershave and polished shoes), as I left the office with Karen Hardinge to catch the district line tube, where we changed once before the Oxford Circus stop. I often felt nervous around Karen, as I had a lot to prove and I had printed out some copies of who I had said would attend, and I wondered to myself “what if most of these people don’t turn up?” “Will I get the blame?” Of course it wouldn’t be my fault if they didn’t, but one month into a new job I didn’t fancy taking the blame for poor attendance at an event for Apple. Once off the tube, we met the Apple team and the other Biters that were there. On the Apple team were Tanya Ridd, Alan Hely, Helen Lord, Georgina Derrick and Michelle Husain. Jonathan Hopkins, my manager from Bite had brought a camera with him for the photos which cannot for copyright and legal reasons be shared on here, however those I took myself I have included. When I arrived everything had been set up, with everything looking in pristine, clean condition and a great set up in the room upstairs in Hannover Street. I waited at the front as the meet, greet and tick PR guy! This just meant saying a hello, welcome to the journalists and writing the attendees on the list, before sometimes introducing them to Tanya Ridd, who was enthusiastic to know which journalists were there. But what if nobody turned up?

We needn’t have worried however as between 1 and 4 pm (the three hour afternoon slot that I believe we said the event would run on) journalists began to flock out of the second floor lift, to sign in, be greeted by me and go into the room to chill out with all the cool Apple products they could write about that Christmas! I was really enjoying my role at the event actually, in a rather royal blue shirt and black trousers I still thought I looked well as I ticked off the names, had a few plays on the iPods and Macs, enjoyed cups of tea and coffee (with complimentary snacks) and chatted to random journalists. I made a list of all those who attended, and in most cases the publication/ media company they work for. I took a few photos myself on my mobile phone as well just to have and as the day went on, Tanya Ridd kept asking me how many journalists had now attended. The final number was 55, almost double what we’d expected so a good job had been done, some PR outreach had been attained, some new relationships were merged and both Bite and Apple were satisfied. I also really enjoyed chatting to journalists that day – including Richard Murdoch who knew Colin Murray (NI radio presenter who I met in 2005) and Edith Bowman, and I was very surprised to turn round and spot the lovely Natalie Johnson walking into the room. Natalie was by this stage a journalist for iCreate the Apple magazine, and had previously known me for 2 years or so doing radio, and Nerve events (The Lock In+ Locked Out) at Bournemouth University. It was great fun! When the day of work ended, I hung around to help tidy up, moving computers, iPods and accesories back into boxes and tidying up, before I dispersed into the August night via a central line tube to my then flat at Shepherd’s Bush. I often quote this Bruce Springsteen line, and days like this make it appropriate again, “they’ll pass you by; glory days.”

Event – Apple’s Christmas in August

Date – Wednesday 23rd August 2006

Location – Apple Hannover Street Offices, London, England

Apple Attendees – Alan Hely, Tanya Ridd, Helen Lord, Georgina Derrick, Michelle Husain

Bite Attendees – Karen Hardinge, Sally Plant, Jonathan Hopkins, Robin Wilson, Jonny Blair

Journalists Who Attended –
Piers Ward – Top Gear
Alex Larman – GQ Online
Kate O’Donnell – Instyle
Fevzi Turkalp – Gadget Detective and Radio Five
John Stones – Design Week
Amy Benson and Cassandra Roberts – Practical Parenting
Michael Fereday – Freelance
Claire Sacre – Elle
Beth Precious, Annabel Foley & Sophie Hoyland – House Beautiful
Paul Wilson & Andy Morris – GQ
Rob Kerr – Network Reviews
Will Roncon – GMTV
Steve Kennedy – The Register
William Harrison – Daily Express
Jim Hill – T3 Home
Andrea Wohlmutter & Lucy Cammish – You Magazine
Jason Jenkins – T3
Maria Yacoob – Wall Street Journal Europe
Mary Branscombe & Simon Bisson – Freelance/Financial Times
Jonathan Weinberg – The Sun
Stuart Pritchard – Smartlife
Pip McCormac – Grazia
Nick Leftley – Maxim
Cliff Joseph – Freelance
Rob Mead – Tech Daily
Elliott – Boys Toys
Emily Kelly & Sarah Rider – This Morning
Shaun Marin – Nuts/ Freelance
Beth Pope & Sarah Kovar – Spirit
Rory Buckeridge – FHM/Zoo
Elaine Waldron & Anthony Unwin – Wonderland
Susan Riley – Sugar
Chris Bidmead – Freelance
Alex Bentley – What Laptop?
Richard Murdoch – Radio One
Laura Kennedy and Dan Cleeve – Cosmo Girl
Natalie Johnson – iCreate/Imagine
Lucy Bannell – Sunday Telegraph
Joelle Rondhi – Freelance
James Holland – T3
Mark Dye – Freelance
Keiran Meeke – Metro
Gordon Kelly – Trusted Reviews
Peter Aspden – Financial Times
Helen Whitaker – Instyle

(apologies to those I’ve mis-spelt or left out)

Backpacking in England: Touring Durdle Door, Dorset…

Posted on by Jonny Blair
Backpacking in England: Touring Durdle Door, Dorset…

I spent a brave few years living in Dorset, England. Its a great wee place, very honest, very raw, but unfortunately less English and more commercial in parts than I’d like. I’ve spent over four years of my life living in Bournemouth, which is commercial, touristy and has an influx of foreigners, especially in summer. However just down the road there are much more beautiful and nice places to visit, such as Poole, Swanage, Wareham, Dorchester, Weymouth and…the gorgeous Durdle Door! Back in 2008 as the sun beat down and I had a Sunday morning and afternoon off work, I decided it would be a perfect time to go and visit Durdle Door, situated at Lulworth Cove overlooking the English Channel, and really just a 33 minute drive from my house at the time.



I used to live with budding journalism student Lewis Clarke, so Lewis joined me on the trip which we did in May 2008 on a hot Sunday. I took my car and we drove from our place at Ensbury Park in Bournemouth along the main carriageway to Poole and then headed on the main road to Dorchester and Weymouth. We turned off the main A35 and headed towards Wareham on the country roads. We stopped by Wareham for a photo by the “Wear Ham” sign post and then headed through the town centre of Wareham, later passing through a lovely country village (West Holme I believe) with traditional pubs and houses you’d expect in Dorset. The roads were winding and hilly and picturesque and every now and then we would get a glimpse of the sea over head.



I was also aware of the Tank Museum at Bovington, a bit further inland in Dorset, but there was also an army base on the main road to Durdle Door, we passed the front entrance where a tank proudly sat, and Lewis and I decided we would go to Lulworth Cove and Durdle Door and stop at the army base for some photos on the way back. As we neared Lulworth Cove we saw a caravan park and the end of the commercial world, as we looked down on the English channel from the car park. We paid the £2 fee or whatever to park my car and then headed down the steep path to the sea. The sun was shining and there were a lot of people, mainly families there. There were no pubs, shops or restaurants, just a small ice cream shop, on our walk down the hill towards the two coves at West and East Lulworth, with the Durdle Door itself bang in the middle.



So what exactly is Durdle Door? Well its natural, its definitely not a door, no knobs and its not man made. Its basically an arch or rock, well natural limestone which sticks out from the mid point of the cove and into the water. There are steps to the bit at the top of the arch and there are two gorgeous beaches on either side. It is a beautiful part of the natural world on the Jurassic Coast, and Lewis and I both really enjoyed the view as we stood on the top of the first cove. As I often do, I brought my South of England Northern Ireland Supporters Club fleg with me for a few photos, posing for one overlooking the bay itself, and then after we had walked down and read the “National Trust Information Board”, I walked to the bottom of the steps and held the fleg up on the grassy bank with Durdle Door and the beach in the background. There were some pretty ladies in bikinis as an added feast for my Ulster eyes.



On the left on Durdle Door beyond the hill, there is the first cove known as “Man O War” Cove, so Lewis and I walked up the steps, the only man made part of it, to the top of Durdle Door so we could look down on both sides of the cove. Lewis had his video camera with him and as a journalism student he makes some documentaries, so he did a brief documentary of this one, which I have tried to put a link to below. Once at the top, we chilled out, enjoyed the spectacular views and then ventured as far over onto the ‘door’ itself as we felt was safe. I’m sure some people over the years must have commited suicide at such a spot. One slip on the walk, or even one gust of wind and you were a goner, down the side of the cliff never to return!



We walked back down, and then headed back up the hill to the car park which was steep enough on a hot day. At this point we stopped and Lewis got himself a 99 while I went for a bottle of Coca Cola. We walked back up to my car, again enjoying the views and the rare sunshine on a day with clear skies. At last I had been to and enjoyed Durdle Door. Once in the car we drove off and headed to the place where we spotted the army base and tank. I parked round the corner and we walked along the narrow roadside towards the front of the army base. It was quite enclosed and had barbed wire, but not as bad as somewhere in Northern Ireland such as palace barracks.



We enjoyed looking at the tank and posed for photos, again one with my supporters club fleg. I had to be back in work that night however in the Pavilion Theatre so soon we had to head home. We did ponder stopping in a country pub for a well needed pint on the way home, but sadly time was tight and I needed to be in work. It was a nice day out and a great sight to see. I’d recommend doing it! Go visit Durdle Door in Dorset. Its natural and comes with two nice beaches.

Famous facts/appearances about Durdle Door:


– Several music videos have been filmed at Durdle Door, including parts of Tears for Fears’ Shout, Cliff Richard’s 1990 Christmas number one Saviour’s Day, Billy Ocean’s Loverboy and Bruce Dickinson’s Tears of the Dragon.
– The artwork inside the lyric booklet for Pink Floyd’s The Division Bell includes a scene photographed at Durdle Door.
– In Nanny McPhee, the children go for a picnic on the beach at Durdle Door.
– Scenes from the film Wilde (1997) starring Stephen Fry were shot here.
– Scenes from the film Far From The Madding Crowd (1967) were shot here
– On Google Earth the SOE NISC fleg appears in a photo on Durdle Door


Link to Lewis Clarke’s blog:
http://lewsnews2004.blogspot.com/2008/05/very-weird-mornin-240508.html

Information on Durdle Door:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Durdle_Door

4-0 And You Still Don’t Sing! (De Ja Vu in Gillingham Kent 13th May 2007)

Posted on by Jonny Blair


It was early 2007 and I was busy planning more South of England Northern Ireland Supporters Club days out. The first one was Oxford to meet Jimmy Quinn and Darren Patterson, the next one was Weston Super Mare to let Sammy G host a meeting, and the third one fell into place rather easily! Probably the most important SOENISC meeting ever (though at the time, not many people would have known that) as for the only time at a meeting in the South of England, we were there supporting our wee country Northern Ireland on the pitch!! In 2006 – 2007 I lived in Dartford in Kent so I could hardly believe it when one day, Sammy G e-mailed me to say that the England v. Northern Ireland Womens (or as I prefer, Ladies) European Championship qualifier was to be held in May 2007…in Kent! And not just that, but in Gillingham at Priestfield Stadium, where I had already been to watch AFC Bournemouth draw 1-1 and it was also only about 6 or 7 train stops from Dartford. Not only did I plan to go and the day out, I hoped that the whole of our supporters club would join me and it would be a mad crazy day out with lots of us!

It was mad and crazy, but sadly the records will show an attendance of ONLY FIVE at the meeting, despite it being the only chance we got to watch a Northern Ireland national team play England in the South of England in a non-London location. It could be 30 years before we get that chance again. Anyhow I was on it, and the SOENISC meeting in Gillingham, Kent was confirmed, the date being Sunday 13th May 2007. At the time I used to go out drinking a lot in London and the Saturday night (the 12th) was no exception, I had done a major pub crawl with James, Steve and his mate John (from Republic of Ireland). I ended up in Sounds nightclub in Lesi’s Q after a pub crawl which included The Porterhouse at Covi G and Belushi’s also on the corner at Covi G. By the end of the night it was just me and James and on that particular night I pulled this crazy Australian lady whose name I have since forgot, and whom I never met again. As we parted ways that night, James and I then got the night bus back to mine in Dartford. This leaves from Strand and often is full of funny characters. I told everyone on the bus I was heading to watch England v. Northern Ireland ladies that day. No-one else cared…

I also hadn’t bothered booking match tickets, not expecting it to sell out in any way, and hadn’t checked train times from Dartford to Gillingham, assuming they would be good. But this was a Sunday! Well James stayed at mine and we didn’t get in until 5 am so minimal sleep was gained for a strange early kick off of 1 pm as I recall (I cannot check this anywhere!). I decided then that the quickest way to get there for kick off was to drive. It was only a 25 minute drive so we left at 11.30 am, expecting to be able to be there and parked well before kick off, get a wee beer, a ticket and a match programme and of course form our own Northern Irish section in the England crowd, with the SOE NISC fleg up. I got in the car and realised I needed petrol, so me and James bombed it to the petrol station before getting onto the A2. It was a simple trip to get there on the A2 – straight down past Bluewater, Rochester and Chatham and into Gillingham where Priestfield was situated in the middle of terraced housing.

I had fully expected fellow SOE NISC members Scatt Gordon, Graham Anderson and Tim Beattie to phone me and arrange to meet before the match. However I didn’t hear from any of them, and it became obvious that none of them were making this, the big one, the chance for SOE NISC to support Northern Ireland on their “home” turf of the South of England. It was Shaun Schofield and Alan Scott instead who kept phoning me to ask where I was. I was on my way, but things were not all fine and dandy on the A2. There was a MAJOR traffic marmalade, not only was there major roadworks, but traffic was heavy, it was raining and there was a car crash, meaning we sat at zero miles per hour for about 20 minutes. I was raging, got really frustrated, even having time to make a video of the traffic (see bottom of post), was beeping my horn, revving the engine and fearing I’d miss the kick off. James was calm as you like, while I was getting livid!!! I had a right to, it is still the WORST ever traffic marmalade or bottleneck I have been in. It showed no signs of getting better…

Finally after about an hour in traffic, we got a free run to Gillingham, got parked quickly somewhere near the ground. I was dressed ridiculously in green as usual. In the Kent rain I stood out wearing a green SOE NISC polo shirt, a green hat, a green snake and I had my fleg with me. Running into the stadium, the turnstiles were shut, the game was 10 minutes in and I banged on the railings where a steward kindly met James and myself and let us in. For free. We had missed 10 minutes, but we thankfully got in free, at last a silver lining in Kent’s Sunday raincloud. Walking into Priestfield we were in the home stand (The Rainham End I think) which was to the left of where I stood the previous year watching the Cherries play Gillingham. The stadium was more packed than I expected – 4,000 or so for a ladies match in the pouring rain. Nobody was in club colours on entering and by sheer luck, James and I fell into the same section where the other 3 SOE NISC representatives were that day. Alan Scott and his girlfriend Khalida were there, sat down beside a green raincoated Shaun Schofield. Everything was fine as I took my seat and started chanting “Northern Ireland” on my own in a shy crowd. We were battling well. I picked out Ashley Hutton and Una Harkin as those I recognised from the website.

The match was 0-0 so I hadn’t missed anything, and we were looking good. A rain swept Stacey Hall took the ball down the line a few times and I yelled “GIve us a wave Stacey!” I doubt even Alan Scott heard me…soon though it was half time and there didn’t appear to be any allocated seats so the five of us decided to move, find more Northern Ireland fans (there were bound to be some) and put our SOE NISC fleg up and hope for a Northern Ireland win. There was always hope! The match was 0-0 at half time and we left our seats, taking a right as Northern Ireland were playing that was the second half. I headed straight for a steward to ask where I could put my fleg up, and if we could put it behind the nets. The steward was a total wanker and told me I couldn’t put it up. For fuck’s sake mate, I’m a football fan, I’m a chairman and all I wanted was to put our fleg up and support my team. Biggest wanker in the world – that steward at Gillingham that day.

So, just to prove a point, Shaun and I then climbed over the blue seats all the way to the back where some more Northern Ireland fans were. We held the fleg up full mast, and while the public address system played the tune “Chelsea Dagger” by The Fratelli’s we danced up and down like maniacs with the fleg while I looked down at the wanker stewards doing the fingers to the cunts! They certainly weren’t going to spoil my afternoon or prevent our fleg from getting noticed. It was at this point that we were photographed by James Prickett, a famous photographer of ladies football, he got a good snap of Shaun and I dancing with the other Northern Ireland fans in the background. We were drawing 0-0, raging with the steward and going mental. At the same time, Alan Scott and his girlfriend were thinking “who are these nutcases?” Even though I had been in touch with Alan Scott by e-mail and text message, this particular day was the first time I met him. Introductions were short and sweet as James, as the token Englishman said that England would win second half. He was probably right, we were ranked much below. And then to our right, all the Northern Ireland ladies came out proudly…

“Northern Ireland du du du du du” Shaun and I proudly chanted at them, getting the odd look up from the team and evn from some nearby fans. An English fan also got his digital camera out at one point to take a photo of us. I then got talking to a few of the other Northern Ireland fans, and found that the five of us from SOENISC were actually the only ones who were “fans” rather than FAFs. FAFs meaning Friends and Families, this contingent around us, some of which were decked in green was the friends and families of the players. Great I thought! My dream date and dream girlfriend and dream wife will always be a Northern Ireland ladies international. Shaun passed me his programme and I began concocting songs for some of the ladies on the NI team. The second half was underway and we were on the back foot, England looking particularly strong.

That didn’t stop Shaun and I from singing “1-0, we’re gonna win 1-0” at the England fans including James around me. We were getting a few laughs and Shaun and I were singing louder now, enjoying our team’s battling in the Kent Kent rain. My sister Cathy had also went to school in Bangor with Lee-Anne Hutton, it was Cathy’s best friend as a child, and Lee-Anne lived round the corner from us in Marlo. One day Cathy told me that Lee-Anne’s younger sister, Ashley Hutton had signed for Arsenal and was playing for Northern Ireland ladies team. There her name was in the match programme and I shouted a “Come on Ashley!” at her as she battled down the near touchline. We were getting stuck in and giving our all against a full time professional England ladies team. It wasn’t going to last but we were enjoying it at 0-0.

It was at this point I turned my head round behind and heard a “that’s my daughter out there playing!” at me, from Ashley Hutton’s Mum. Ashley’s Mum had known my Mum and was aware of me, if not my name, she guessed a hazardous “Johnathon” (not even my real name on my birth certificate by the way in case you wondered…) at me, knowing my name was something like that and I said “well actually its Jonny but hello!”, she then said “you’re Cathy’s brother what are you doing here?” “I’m here to support Northern Ireland and Ashley, I run the South of England Northern Ireland Supporters Club, I’ve lived in England the last 4 years!” Wearing a green snake round my neck I wasn’t sure how seriously she would take me. Carol Hutton was her name and she was so surprised to see me there, small bloody world. Soon I had asked her if Ashley was single, but she had a boyfriend, so I whispered to Shaun “I’ll have to try my luck on the number 9 then…” which is actually Sarah McFadden, lovely girl, actually as I later learned being a fly on the wall in Belarus. For now I was in Gillingham Kent, and on 53 minutes the dam burst.

Kelly Smith fired England 1-0 up and then within minutes young Una Harkin, a Derry miss had unfortunately scored an own goal and we were 2-0 down. “5-2, we’re gonna win 5-2” Shaun and I sang again, as well as mixing the chants right up – “Alfie Wylie’s Green and White Army”, “One Ashley Hutton”, “We’ll Support You Evermore” and “Can We Hear The England Sing?” We were outsinging the England fans and putting the wanker stewards to shame as they stood at the front wishing they were as fun a person as me. As we continued to sing, and encouraged by the FAFs who started to join in, suddenly we were 3-0 down and it was all over, but we had done well this far. “8-3, we’re gonna win 8-3” Shaun and I then sang. I also loved watching the beautiful Northern Ireland ladies slip and slide through the rain that day. They were doing us proud, putting in the tackles, and looking rather sexy. This was my first EVER ladies football match I had attended, and it was brilliant. 3-0 and we were having a laugh. I also wondered on the possibility of getting backstage with the Northern Ireland ladies and a photo of the team with my club fleg. That was going to be some challenge, and now we were 4-0 down after 76 minutes and had ran out of steam.

“12-4, we’re gonna win 12-4” sang Shaun and I, followed cleverly by a “4-0 you always win 4-0” at the English. This was of course a reference to the 4-0 defeat to England’s men’s team two years earlier, March 2005 at Old Trafford. The irony of it was that both matches had penned out exactly the same. England were favourites, half time it was 0-0, a goal at the start of the second half got the ball rolling, the next goal was an OG, the next two goals followed swiftly, it was game over, Northern Ireland fans were much louder than the English fans. It was a de ja vu for me and Shaun from the match two years earlier. As the final whistle drew near we sang “We’re not Brazil, we’re Northern Ireland” and Shaun gave me a preview for a new song of his. The original song was “Cecilia” by Simon and Garfunkel (younger readers might remember a Suggs (Yer man from ‘Madness’) cover version of the song in 1996. Shaun’s version was something like “Healy, you’re breaking my heart, yer shaking my confidence aily, David Healy I’m down on my knees I’m begging you please just to score.” It was a classic and on a wet day in Gillingham life couldn’t get any better.

As we were 4-0 down and losing, I said to Shaun, “do you fancy going to the next match? Just us two?” Straight away Shaun agreed, said yes we’ll go! It was a mad crazy idea and one that I was up for. I didn’t know when it was, where it was, who it was against but I wanted to be there to support our wee ladies. Shaun Schofield, as I have mentioned before is a celebrity Northern Ireland fan. Originating from Lytham St. Anne’s, near Blackpool, Shaun slowly fell in love with the Northern Ireland international football team, so much so that he wrote a book about it (“There’s Always One: 10 years of following Northern Ireland”) and has been to over 100 consecutive Northern Ireland matches home and away in all competitions. He is quite a man and was up for the next match with me straight away. However the match was still happening and talk of this was left to the post match pub and pint. Shaun and I also talked about how we fancied the Norwegian referee, and soon the final whistle had gone and Shaun and I again danced with the club fleg as the NI ladies marched past us and off the pitch just in front to rapturous applause and kiss blowing by me. I had fallen in love with the Northern Ireland international football team during the 1986 World Cup Finals. But now in 2007 I had fallen in love with the Northern Ireland ladies international football team. We lost 4-0, but were loud and proud and the ladies had worked hard.

It was at this moment that Carol Hutton dispersed from the crowd and I noticed number 7 Ashley Hutton over at the touchline, I raced down seeing th elovely Ashley with her foot up on the railings talking to her Mum. “Here Ashley that’s Cathy’s brother…”she said as I turned up with my camera. Of all the photos I’ve had taken in my life, this has to be one of the best. I put my Northern Ireland scarf up in the air, kept my hat on, grabbed Shaun on one side, Ashley Hutton on the other side and posed for a photo. I could have died a happy man that night I reckon. I’d met and spoke to a Northern Ireland ladies international, and the extremely attractive Ashley Hutton at that. What a nice lady – thanks for the photo Ashley and well played. Not even Ashley could have predicted however that I would meet her again about 3 months later in the sublime location of Bobruisck in Belarus, which brings me to the post match story.

After getting my photo with Ashley I tried to blag my way into the members bar at Gillingham FC to no avail, I even said “I’m the chairman of the SOE NISC” but they woul;dn’t let me in, so I guessed I couldn’t meet the NI ladies and get a photy and a chat with them, so those few seconds with Ashley Hutton would have to do, as Shaun had booked us into the British Legion in Gillingham so we headed there for a quiet chat, quick SOE NISC meeting (just to make it official) and a pint. I could only have one as I was driving, but ran through some club updates for those there, announcing that we would have a quick FA Cup Final Meeting in Bristol at the end of May 2007 before taking a break for the club until October/November 2008 when we were due to hit Exeter. It was then that the crazy idea took a twist. Shaun looked up the Northern Ireland ladies fixtures and found that the next match was in a few weeks at home in Coleraine v. Czech Republic. Well unfortunately that was too short notice for Shaun or I to book home and go to it, and it was also a bit sensible – watching Northern Ireland in Northern Ireland: too obvious. So then…the next fixture after that was Belarus away, and it was on 1st August, sandwiched right in the middle of our summer 2007. At the time I was working for Bite Communications in London and had already decided to leave the job in June 2007, do a few months travelling (the Canada, Germany, Latvia and Iceland parts of which had already been booked), and so I thought – BELARUS!! That’s perfect I’ll go round the world and make sure right in the middle of it all that I end up in Belarus that day as the only Northern Ireland fan at the ladies match. This was because Shaun felt the date didn’t suit him, so I would either go alone, or not go. I love lunacy in life so I decided to go. NO Northern Ireland international football team had ever played Belarus at any level (not even under 21s, ladies, men, or even friendlies) so I decided I would have to be the first. That story appears elsewhere on the blog. To end this one, I was simply in awe of the Northern Ireland ladies team that day, and decided to give them all messages of support, which I did online through Bebo and Facebook websites, and posting some photos up. It was a great day out, the best SOE NISC meeting of all time and one which will never be forgotten. I love supporting Northern Ireland. I love it.

Sweet dreams one and all,

Jonny Blair

The stats:

Date: Sunday May 13th 2007

Location: Priestfield Stadium, Gillingham, Kent, England

SOENISC Gang for the day: Jonny Blair, James Condron, Shaun Schofield, Alan Scott and Khalida

Known FAFs: Carol Hutton, Kimberley Turner’s Da.

Bars We Visited: The British Legion in Gillingham then when we got back The Bear And Ragged Staff in Crayford, once I’d left the car home.

Final score: England 4-0 Northern Ireland
(Smith, 53, Harkin og. 66, Chapman 72, Sanderson, 76)

England (4-2-1-3): Brown (Everton); Houghton (Sunderland) (sub Carney (Arsenal) HT), Asante (Arsenal), Phillip (Arsenal), Unitt (Everton); Chapman (Arsenal), Williams (Everton); K. Smith (Arsenal) (sub White (Arsenal) 73); Scott (Arsenal), Sanderson (Arsenal) (sub Barr (Leeds United) 77), S. Smith (Leeds United).
Substitutes not used: Potter (Charlton Athletic), Telford (Sunderland), Exley (Doncaster Rovers Belles), Johnson (Everton).

Northern Ireland(4-1-4-1): Higgins (Glentoran Belfast United); Leyland (Northland Raiders), Nelson (Newtownabbey Strikers), Harkin (Drumahoe YMCA), Bailie (Glentoran Belfast United); Hutton (Newtownabbey Strikers); McKenna (Newtownabbey Strikers) (sub Gillespie (Glentoran Belfast United) 56), Turner (Glentoran Belfast United), Hall (Glentoran Belfast United) (sub Carson (Newtownabbey Strikers) 80), Corish (Newtownabbey Strikers); McFadden (Ballymena United).
Substitutes not used: Platt (Newtownabbey Strikers), McGovern (Fermanagh Mallards), Booth (Newtownabbey Strikers), McDowell (Newtown Abbey Strikers), Patterson (Newtownabbey Strikers),

Referee: Ms A. Ostervold (Norway).

Attendance: 3,944.

The Traffic Marmalade on the A2 in Kent, which made James and me late for the match:

Faye White’s goal in the return fixture in Lurgan 2008. Northern Ireland 0-2 England:

More Action from the same match:

An England corner in the same match:

Enhanced by Zemanta

First footsteps in Birmingham…and uninspiring intoxication (October 2008)

Posted on by Jonny Blair


It may sound hard to believe, but aged 28 and finding myself in Birmingham I got more drunk than I had ever been before; in October 2008. In many ways it was a big occassion, and indeed one which I rose to and then succumbed to in equal measure being neither happier or sadder by the end, but definitely wiser. Until Tuesday 7th October 2008, I had NEVER stepped foot in the Uk’s second biggest city, Birmingham. I had often driven through it, or past it, and even once stopped on the outskirts to fill my car up with petrol, but I had never actually seen the city and it’s a place I always wanted to see (I did Cardiff, London, Manchester, Liverpool, Leeds, Nottingham even all before I ventured into Birmingham). I had no idea it was this big.

It was all planned about 8 months in advance. As you’ll gather from knowing me, or even reading this blog, I plan things in advance largely based around football matches. With Northern Ireland due to play Slovenia in October 2008, and budget flights being my forte, it was a budget Ryanair flight from Birmingham airport to the random location of Trieste in Italy which caught our eyes. We booked it up for less than £50 return and that was it sorted – we would fly to Italy from Birmingham and then work our way to Slovenia. Once the flights were booked, everything else was forgotten for months and months. And then I thought – one of my best mates, Lee Adams aka Lock In Lee actually lives in Birmingham! I hoped I could somehow amalgamate everything into one – catch up with my hilarious mate Lee, perhaps enjoy the sights of Birmingham and make my way to Birmingham airport. Initially the flights were noon time, but as Ryanair often do, they changed them to 6.20 am, which meant an early start and a night time drive to the airport. Fellow South of England Northern Ireland Supporters Club mate, Graham Anderson was also booked on the same flights. Graham lives in Bristol and I at the time in Bournemouth, so it made total sense for me to pick Graham up on the way to save petrol and add conversation to a dull car journey through places such as Gloucester and Worcester, albeit via the Motorway 5. It was all sorted! Lock In Lee even booked two days off work and found us a £9 All You Can Drink Nightclub, plus two sofas for Graham and I to kip the night before our 6.20 am flight.

I told Graham how nuts me and Lee were as a gruesome twosome, doing ridiculous things such as going to Prague just for the sake of it, auditioning for Big Brother, not minding getting blowjobs in public and generally larking around. Everything was going well, I picked up Graham after work in Bristol, we got on the road from Bristol to Birmingham, got lost near Sellyoak and finally found our way down War Lane to Lee’s place in the Harborne area of Birmingham. The size of the city was starting to show, but I liked it. There I parked at Lock In Lees, plumped my stuff in his lounge, we watched some old DVDs and reminisced with some photos of Lee with Nottingham Forest players and I chilled out using Lime Bacardi Breezers. Graham must have felt he was too old for this sort of melarkey. It’s just as well he ended up being the sensible one. We needed some food and Graham and I ventured on a dark cold night just literally across a road at the roundabout and Graham got some pie and chips/fish and chips for me in a shop where they were looking for staff. I offered them to take me on, but then realised I didn’t live in Birmingham and also had 2 jobs in a location some 200 miles south. I decided I needed a few beers as well so headed to what looked like an offy for a carryout. It turned out to be a super market which didn’t sell alcohol. If you ever wanted a good example of an oxymoron then that’s it. Hardly super, and barely even a market! I was directed across the road and just as I came out of the shop I was approached by two youths. Suddenly realising I was up north again, in a completely different culture, I was intrigued by this normal behaviour of these youths. The first guy came up to me, well spoken and looking about 15 and gave me £3 and said in a classic Brummie accent “any chance you can pop in there and get me 10 Richmond Superkings?” I hesitated for a second thinking to myself, I could decline, but I’ve been that age and in that situation so I know what I’m going to do. I took the £3 and I thought to myself I really should encourage them not to smoke, but I drink, I’ve smoked before and if I say no, the next person will get the fegs for the guy, so of course I’d go in and get them for him! I also hung outside a local off licence in Ashbury Avenue, Bangor in the 1990s asking people to go in to get me a carryout. Then crossing by the roundabout another decent looking chap with his pretty girlfriend came up and asked for 10 Benson and Hedges Gold. I took his £2.50 as well. Both guys said “keep the change” and I went in and bought the cigarettes for them as well as my own beer. It was a kind of raw and vibrant welcome to Birmingham and reminded me of home in Northern Ireland. Whether they’re shy or stupid, the Bournemouth folk don’t loiter outside feg shaps and then ask ye to get them fegs. It was nice to have that cultural difference straight away. I didn’t tell Lock In Lee that story, he may recount it on here first.

After that it was finish another two quick Lime Bacardi Breezers and devour my dinner before we decided to do a Wetherspoon’s pub in Birmingham city centre before attempting to find and then get into the student nightclub which was allegedly £9 entry for all ye can drink. I didn’t believe it! Then as we waited right outside Lee’s for the bus into the city centre Lee revealed that “Birmingham doesn’t do returns.” I was surprised by this, so we just were meant to get a £1.50 single ticket into the city centre. The first bus stop had less frequent buses, that was on War Lane, so instead we dandered down the street to a bus stop near a roundabout. A bus for the hospital went past and then the next bus was ours. Lee told me and Graham “just do the same as me, I’ll get on first, drop in £1.50 into the box, say ‘one fifty’ to the bus driver and then collect your ticket.” It was just getting a bus ticket but it was a culture change. I enjoyed it, so much so that I didn’t listen to Lee and after Graham and Lee had said “one fifty please”, I simply said “same again please mate.” The driver knew what I meant and I had a single ticket, but Lee and Graham marvelled at how I could get a simple thing like that wrong, well not wrong, n=but just not to obey Lee, the local resident of the three of us! Graham and I remarked to each other “its like being in a different country and all we did was buy a bus ticket!” The bus journey allowed Lee to give us the briefest guided tour in the history of Birmingham as well as direct us to the correct road which would lead to Birmingham Airport for the journey the next morning. Oh yeah and I’ve lost track of time here…it was still barely 8 pm. We exited the bus in what appeared to be the busy pub area of Birmingham. A very high building eclipsed our moonlit sky and Lee pointed out the library opposite as “either the biggest library in Europe, or at least at one point it was.” Either way I was getting culture, facts and wisdom all in one. On route to the Wetherspoons Lee also pointed out a very high building which a relative (uncle, or grandfather perhaps) helped build and once had his photo took at the top. The building was good, but I wanted a beer, my first ever to be had in Birmingham. I chose a St. Austell Cornish Ale randomly at the bar in the Wetherspoons. The Wetherspoons itself was inside a shopping centre and probably the smallest Wetherspoons pub I’ve ever seen. There were some very pretty ladies in there, and Lee also knew a few people, including one geezer he hadn’t met for about a year. Come to think of it, that night was the first time I’d seen my mate Lee in the UK since April 2006 (2.5 years!!!) and yet I still class him as one of my closest mates and me to him as well. We did meet in 2007 however, but that was a speedy 4 days of carnage in Prague. I was now in Lock In Lee’s home city of Birmingham enjoying the beer. Graham was chilling out too, you could tell we were on a high, with no work for 5 days you always would be.

Lee made quite a few calls to the nightclub which was apparently £9 all ye can drink, mainly to confirm opening time, dress code and also whether the three of us could get in. The club was a student nightclub, and none of us were students!!! Though I did happen to have my student card for Bournemouth University on me, and even though it had expired nobody would have been any the wiser. Graham looked too old to be a student, which is a totally ageist and untrue comment. Lee has a punk hairdo, so is either an art student or too rebellious to even consider a government funded educational institution. The calls were made and it was confirmed that the nightclub (a 10 minute walk) was opening at 10 pm sharp and the dress code was casual (as we were) it was £9 all ye can drink and it was student identification on the door. Either way we planned to risk it anyway! Graham ordered me another beer, a Pedigree, my fourth beverage of the night, and we were well on our way to being intoxicated! Also in that Wetherspoons the fire alarm went off, as we waited to see if we could take our beers, leave the sofa and evacuate the manager shouted “Its OK, its a false alarm!”, I then was receiving text messages from my mate Dan Darch who was tuned into radio and telextext simultaneously checking the Milton Keynes Franchise FC Dons v. AFC Bournemouth score and keeping me updated. From a text of 1-0 Anderton, no further texts until a “we win 1-0!” had me smiling by the time we were to leave that pub.

The walk to the AYCD (All Ye Can Drink) Bar was about 10 minutes via a Fountain and a fake Summer Beach. It was too dark to take photographs and I missed a lot of the Birmingham sights due to lack of light, but I did see the bright red lights of the Kerrang! studio just before a Red Dwarf style entrance to a nightclub appeared from out of nowhere. Some very very cool and friendly bouncers looked at us knowing we weren’t really students. I flashed my student card, they then thought “well hold on, these guys aren’t gonna trash the place, we’ll let them in!” which they did and by handing in £10 I got my hand stamped and a £1 change, which all 3 of us donated to the charity box, which may even have been the students union fund. At any rate, this wasn’t a dream. With a “credit crunch”, “inflation” and “recession” all lurking around, who’d have thunk we’d of found an AYCD bar for nine quid? It was true, just hold on to your glass and it’s all you can drink, I got two glasses early on and kept them. Graham kept looking at me and checking I was OK, which was nice. Lee in his usual way just kept saying “let’s get cunted.” The problem was I was already cunted after a few beers and once inside the club, Lee took me to the indie room, knowing I would love the music. As The Charlatans “The Only One I Know” came on, I then requested Oasis and was treated to some vintage stuff from the DJ who banged on “Morning Glory” for a start! I was up jiving giving it more life than these 19 year olds around me. It was fantastic. The mid 90s hits kept banging out and I also tried to chat up the very few females that were in there. Kula Shaker’s Tattva came on and I texted John Hart who was on our flight the next morning to let him know it was all ye can drink! I was carnaged and knew it, even if I didn’t admit it to Graham and Lee. It was lucky Graham didn’t over indulge in the alcohol as he would be my guiding light for making the plane the next morning. It was probably gone midnight when I was caught dancing to Disco 2000 by Pulp, which I followed with bouncing for the most retro dancing to Live Forever witnessed in modern times. Even kids who were in nappies when Definitely Maybe came out, could still see the relevance to a line such as “maybe you’re the same as me; we see things they’ll never see.” Lee got his fix as well with Rage Against The Machine and The Cure getting airings to a crowd who were aged 18 – 22 in my opinion. Graham and Lee and I never looked out of place though! Graham was still looking after me and every time he asked if I was OK, I’d say “Yeah” before walking back up to the bar with my glass for yet more and more gin and tonics. I then made the mistake of moving on to vodka once gin had finished at the bar, and I dont like or drink vodka, I hate it, so that was me carnaged. Apart from lifting up the skirt of one of Lee’s mates (Imogen I think) and dancing with a Sex Pistols freak I dont even remember getting back to Lees that night. Well it would have been that morning…

Yeah the one where we had a 6.20 am flight from Birmingham to Trieste. That meant we needed to be at the airport by 4.20 am. We must’ve got in after 3 am though. And yes I was carnaged, I was sick and I was the one who had to drive to the airport that morning. Lee and Graham were the helping hand with black coffee and letting me rest my head for a brief time, and yes I had now done Birmingham and made it safely somehow in my car to Birmingham airport to the onward flight to Trieste, Italy for yet another adventure on life’s mazy corridor!

Who was there – Lock In Lee, Jonny Blair, Graham Anderson.

Bars Visited – Wetherspoons (Paradise Place), Snobs Nightclub.

Sick – In Lock In Lee’s toilet.

Cost to get smashed – £9. I had about 7 pints and 6 gin and tonics, then moved on till the Vodka.

The Lymington Pub Crawl – 1st October 2008

Posted on by Jonny Blair


I had been working in Lymington since June 2008 on Wightlink ferries which take only 30 minutes to get you from Lymington in Hampshire to Yarmouth on the Isle of Wight. My drive to work would range from 23 minutes to over an hour depending on traffic, time of day and roadworks, so I never had a lot of time to explore the town or its pubs. Simon Eatwell who worked with me lives in Lymington and we had planned all summer to have a Lymington pub crawl, taking in the town’s 14 or so pubs. I liked the town of Lymington, with its lack of over commercialisation, a church still managing to eclipse most shops on the main street and a gorgeous harbour full of boats only I could dream of affording. It really is a pretty little English town, and moreover it has not been infested by an influx of foreigners; they couldn’t really afford to live there. In maintaining its Englishness, Lymington also maintains its traditional pubs and real ales, unventured territory for your Wetherspoons, Yateses or Jumpin Jaks. Real pubs where real people drink real ale with real friends. So the date was set – Wednesday 1st October 2008 for the Lymington Pub Crawl. Simon did the organising and there it began…

Simon and I were on an early turn on the boats that day which meant we started at some ridiculous time like 5.45 am, and finished around 1.30 pm. The plan was to get on the pub crawl as quickly as possible after work. It was going to be knackering as I had worked the previous two early mornings on boats and the previous three nights in bars in Bournemouth. After we finished on the ferry boat that day we went straight to the Waggon And Horses, the work local, and self advertised as “the last stop before the ferry.” The staff in there know most of the Wightlink workers who have frequented it over the years. I can’t say I’m a regular or that it’s even my local, but I do pop in for the odd quick pint after work, so I class it as my “work local.” Its a lovely wee pub, and in there I enjoyed a pint of Malt & Hops before heading back to park my car at Simon’s place where I would stay the night, so I could finally enjoy more than one pint on the streets of Lymington. We dandered from Simon’s round towards the Yacht Club on the other side of the harbour. Home of 2 Olympic Gold Medals this year, no less! There we had our second pint in the Mayflower Inn, a tidy wee pub with a massive beer garden and which does big summer barbecues. Simon knew one of the chefs in there, Stuart and we spoke to him for a while as a rare October sun beat down on my pint of Fuggle De Dum. It was actually the first time I’d ever tried Fuggle De Dum, an ale brewed on the Isle of Wight, and it met my taste satisfaction. Simon had strategically planned the pub crawl so that we would work it in a sensible order so as to end up back in town, from the outskirts. This meant a leisurely stroll to the next port of call…The Checkers (or is it the Chequers?).

The stroll to The Checkers took a wee bit longer than expected and this involved typical English countryside where people still say hello to each other. How refreshing in this modern day and age. Our route also saw us walk by a classic car and a photo moment, before Simon’s new phone and gadget (an Apple iPhone) came in useful as directing us straight to The Checkers via two dog walkers. Once inside The Checkers I opted for a Ringwood Best, while Simon was on the 49er. This was a lovely wee pub, simplistic untarnished decor with coins and banknotes on the wall, friendly staff and yet more people that Simon knew. We joined them for a drink in the even nicer beer garden, which included its own bar at the back. One could imagine massive countryside parties in here during the height of Summer. It was a relaxed pint in a pub you could also imagine Jonathan Creek drinking in during one of his mystery solving moments.

After that it began to spit a wee bit and we headed back towards town via The Fisherman’s Rest. We didn’t see any fishermen in there, but plenty of resters including me and Simon who nestled down onto the bar and ordered two swift bitters. We got talking to Frank a Scotsman from Motherwell in there and without prompting he ordered us in the next round of beers, even though the original plan was to have only one pint in each pub and complete the pub crawl. We bought him a Scotch whiskey back before he headed off and we chatted away to the barman and barmaid, one of whom was about to head off to work on cruise ships. A dream job I’m keen to pursue some day. Better sooner than later with that plan really. After that we left The Fisherman’s Rest and back onto the main road into Lymington from the Everton/Downton area, where nicely poking out on the corner stood the traditional White Hart.

I actually remembered at the time my old mate Chris Ragg (who I sometimes called “Chainsaw Chisel” or even more bizarrely “Chisel Massachussets”) as I used to stay at his house in Londonderry during the year 2000 and the walk reminded me of the walk to one of his locals at Eglinton/Maydown. That pub though was called The White Horse, this time it was The White Hart. In there the lady at the bar seemed quite the strict and obnoxious type. While we had been welcomed into all the previous bars, this lady asked for identification and then contradicted Simon when he suggested that they used to sell Timothy Taylor’s Ales! That turned out to be a very quick pint of the day in the end. “Don’t stay where you don’t feel welcome” and all that, so for some reason this became my least favoured pub on the crawl. On into the darkening sky and to The Thomas Tripp.

I had driven past The Thomas Tripp many times before on route to work. It is on the corner at the busy junction in Lymington and looks much bigger from the outside than when you’re inside. Still I had a lager pint in there, possibly Carling and by now the photos were becoming very blurred and the memories began to get more and more hazy. Pub crawls are great in theory, if your head didn’t get so mangled so early it would be even better. The bar man in there noticed I had a white AFCB shirt on, which of course is Bournemouth’s football team, The Cherries and he said “my mate plays for Bournemouth.” Immediately engrossed in conversation I was to learn that it was young Josh McQuoid who was his mate. Josh is not only an AFC Bournemouth player, but also plays for Northern Ireland under 19s, due to his grandfather being Northern Irish, I was to learn there and then that Josh was from Lymington! I had met Josh in April 2008 in the Inn Off The Bar bar at Dean Court, where I got a photo of him with my Northern Ireland fleg. That pint flew down fairly fast and soon it was across the road to The Fusion Inn.

By this time I didn’t know what time it was! We needed something to eat, but decided just to have a pint in The Fusion Inn and then grab a greasy burger or kebab. I opted for a bitter in The Fusion Inn which as I recall was a bar which went round in a square/circle, and looked much better inside than it did out. Simon again knew some of the staff in there and at this point we were also expecting another workmate to meet up with us after her shift. We had organised the pub crawl quite late notice as we had been paired together that week on the Stewarding Department of the boats, and the Monday we had worked with young Jo Weguelin, short for Joanna, mind, and not Joanne if you will please. Jo is also a local lady, and the sort of girl that you’d have to be stupid not to like. She has looks, smile, charm, humour and personality in equal portions and still found time of day to meet with me and Simon. Quite a rare attribute really, as as we ate greasy burgers, we waited for Jo to join us in the very next pub…

Which turned out to be The King’s Arms on the main street heading towards the sea. I really must admit that I was very drunk at this point, not too drunk to keep drinking but I was losing my ability to remember things. According to Simon I was pestering the bar staff in there quite a bit, which I do not remember, though I moved on to Guinness, as I drink it much slower and knew it would curb my drunken-ness. And in walked Jo to the bar with a scarf and jeans rather than her Wightlink attire. She had obviously got changed after work and had driven down, but lived nearby, so when we finished that drink in The King’s Arms she drove her car to somewhere where she could park overnight, and then as night was fading and bars were probably getting close to last orders, it was suggested we should go to Lymington’s ONLY nightclub (I believe…) which was called Long’s and I have no idea where it was, and couldn’t find it now if I tried. I was drunk and we headed into Long’s.

I can’t remember if we had to pay to get in, but I remember being a bit worse for wear and drinking Blue WKDs and Gin and Tonics instead of pints as my stomach probably couldn’t handle them! It was a karaoke night, and of course like an eejit I volunteered myself for the usual round of crap cover versions. Simon, Jo and I all sung at various points, often hogging the microphone. I did the usual array of Common People by Pulp in the worst ever working class Sheffield accent you’ve ever heard, an altered lyric version to the Manic Street Preachers ten year old hit “If You Tolerate This”, I certainly wouldn’t tolerate much more alcohol and was probably the most heavily intoxicated I’d been for a while, this just a week before the carnage of the AYCD club in Birmingham. Jo and I even joined in for what must surely have been one of the worst duets of all time, we tried to sing “As Long As You Love Me” by The Backstreet Boys. A classic song, which was probably ruined forever that night in Long’s. Recounting the night with Simon some days later, even Simon couldn’t remember every song that he had sang, and only on a chance Wave 105 radio play on board the Wightlink ship, Cenred did I remind myself of that zany zany walk to Dire Straits lost classic “Walk of Life.” Simon and Jo also did a duet, I believe it to be a song from the filim Grease! The pub crawl ended in Long’s with a few pubs in Lymington omitted (such as The Angel and The Bosun’s Chair) and they’ll be left for another day. I left some kind of mark on Lymington and it one on me, by the start of Novemeber my short stint working in the town was over and life could become normal again, well kind of…

Date – Wednesday 1st October 2008

Location – Lymington, Hampshire

Pubs Visited in order – The Waggon And Horses, The Mayflower, The Checkers, The Fisherman’s Rest, The White Hart, The Thomas Tripp, The Fusion Inn, The King’s Arms, Long’s.

Who went – Jonny Blair, Simon Eatwell, Jo Weguelin.

What song charted at the time – Oasis – The Shock Of The Lightning (I’m over my heart’s desire)

British News that day – Credit Crunch mayhem…

Quote of the crawl – “You do the walk; yes you do the walk of life…”

Something you didn’t know about Lymington – Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits owns a bar there.

The worst karaoke version of Champagne Supernova you will ever hear:

Weston – Super – Mare, April 2007

Posted on by Jonny Blair


I first met Sammy G (Sam Gordon) back in 2006 at the SOE NISC meeting in Bristol. He came with his son, Chris and is an ex Belfast man now living in Weston Super Mare. As it was the idea to rotate all the meetings, we decided to finally hold our Weston Super Mare meeting in April 2007, the day of Weston Super Mare AFC’s last home match of the season in the Conference South. I remember talking to Tim Beattie at the Northern Ireland v. Wales under 21s match at The Oval in February 2007, where we confirmed the date due to the fact that Weston were to play Bognor Regis that day. I was quite excited. I had been to Weston Super Mare only once before and that was on a family holiday to England in the 1980s where we were searching a cheap B and B in WSM only to find that all hotels, hostels, guest houses and b and bs were FULLY BOOKED. On that particular night I had images of only Weston Super Mare and “No Vacancies.” Twenty odd years later and I was heading back.

Preparation began with me booking the Friday off work in Bite Communications, so that I could go to Bournemouth with James Condron and Sam Cooper that day. We had planned to stay at Neil’s place in Boscombe and watch Thin Lizzy and The Deep Purple in Bournemouth International Centre. What a weekend this was going to be. We partied on a pub crawl, joined by Gemma Mornin all the way until 2 am where we ended up in Jumpin Jaks nightclub! Next thing I know and Neil was waking me up saying “Jonny what time is your train?” “I thought you were going to your Northern Ireland supporters club meeting!” I was and I thought I was running late, but it was still not yet 9 am, so I grabbed my bags and headed as fast as I could to Pokesdown train station, where the trains were infrequent and I was chancing it to be there on time…However I managed to get on the next train to Southampton within minutes and there was Richboy and Scatt waiting for me at Southampton. A quick cup of tea to get back to reality and soon our party train was cruising to Bristol or Bath, one of which we changed at and got a smaller, less elegant train to the seaside resort of Weston Super Mare.

With every meeting in the SOENISC, we are never sure how many will turn up, and for this one we expected quite a low attendance given the location. However at the time Northern Ireland were TOP of our Euro 2008 qualifying group and looking good to qualify, so spirits were high. We got off the train at Weston Super Mare, which was only a 10 minute walk to the beach. Our meeting place of choice was Nick’s Bar, as suggested by Sammy G on his home turf. It didn’t take us long to find it, and on the way there were a few laughs such as seeing a street called “Graham Road”, it was merely there to replace Vice Chairman Graham Anderson who couldn’t attend the meeting. We also picked up some random items as the sun shone down near Weston Super Mare beach. This included a green and white golf set. The setting was superb, a beautiful day by the beach, some great bars, a football match, some booze, Scatt had even brung his guitar to add music to the day. It wasn’t even 12.34 pm yet and that first beer was waiting for me.

On route to Nick’s it turned out some of the boys had decided to meet in The Cabot bar instead, as this was showing the Manchester United match and some of the boys liked that team. In there was Alan Scott (who I met for the first time), Alan Chambers (making his debut at a SOE NISC meeting having been in the NOE NISC and met me a few times before matches in Belfast) and Owen Millar. I had a quick beer in there before the official meeting took place at Nick’s where the bar staff knew we were coming and a few of the lads had already got seats in the sun. Tim Beattie was there though he had driven down, so wasn’t drinking. There was also Tim Acheson with some NI memorabilia, Dave King and the latest recruits from SOE NISC – The Crute family, who by chance had bumped in till an intoxicated Richboy and myself just a month early in the middle of mountains in Vaduz square, or even funnier a pizza shap which done beer.

That was Valerie, Jono and David there. Alex Higgins andBeverley also turned up soon and for the first time I met member Graham Johnston, another debutant on the day. It was set to be carnage! The meeting ran smoothly with a few lagers and soon we were deciding taxis split between us would be the quickest and cheapest way to get to The Woodspring Stadium for the 3 pm kick off of Weston Super Mare v. Bognor Regis. Weston Super Mare were already basically relegated as I recall, and we were just happy to be supporting them for the day. All dressed ridiculously in green as ever, we arrived just before kick off at The Woodspring Stadium. Match entrance fee was something really cheap like £5, and there was a nice wee social club for the half time and post match beer. A few days prior to the meting we had also an article in the Weston Mercury promoting the meeting, sadly I never got a copy of this, though we did get mentioned on the last line of the internet preview of the match on the Weston Mercury website. Plus we had a short mention of the SOE NISC in the Weston Super Mare club programme, which was a basic programme and cost £1 I think.

The match got underway and we put the fleg up next to one of the corner flegs and formed our own wee corner of the stadium, rather than join the hardcore of Weston fans in the stand behind the nets, or indeed the few travelling Bognor Regis fans who has come a long way to be there. The match got underway and it was obvious that Bognor were the better side, going 1-0 up. WE sand some typical NI songs but also stuff like “Weston till half five” just for a laugh. MY memory actually gets quite hazy now as I get older and I don’t recall whether the half time score was 0-1, 1-2 or 0-2!! Perhaps someone can put me right, but at any rate Weston Super Mare, in white shirts and blue shorts were losing the match and their position in the Conference South.

It was at half time that one of the club executives, Alan Cooper approached me. I was wearing my crocodile dundee hat as once worn by Jimmy Quinn. Alan gave us a welcome over the club’s public address system and then asked if we would like to sing for the club after the match. I jumped at the chance, detailing to Alan Cooper previous club lunacy and also requested a post match penalty shoot out with the Bognor Regis fans, or even the team. When I told the boys who were in the bar getting the half time beers, they didn’t know whether it was a wind up or not. Either way I was looking forward to the second half with Weston Super Mare AFC playing our way and then the chance to get onto the pitch and be on loudspeaker. I had already introduced myself to Alan Cooper as club chairman and I love these sort of spontaneous opportunities. The scond half began…

And soon Weston Super Mare AFC had brought on a new player, the qgeing Gary Owers. I didn’t know it then, but Gary Owers had actually once played in an FA Cup Final, for Sunderland against Liverpool in 1992 (it was through Richboy that I was to learn this fact later). Owers was straight into the action and I recall he hit the post and injected some life back in the Weston team that day, he was player manager and we were chanting “One Gary Owers, there’s only one Gary Owers” much to his amusement. Soon though, it was time to face defeat and Weston Super Mare succumbed to a 3-1 home defeat. They were relegated for now…

Straight after the match I told the boys to wait around at the pitch entrance whilst I OK-d the pitch singing session with Alan Cooper. After the players walked off to warm applause, the South of England Northern Ireland Supporters Club dandered nonchalantly onto the pitch, almost stealing the show in front of an emptying Woodspring Stadium. Club members Scatt Gordon and Tim Acheson clapped themselves onto the pitch in a comical way, whilst David Crute (equipped with a cameracorder) decided to capture the spontaneous humour that was to follow. Led by myself and Owen Millar, we sang a rousing rendition of “We’re Not Brazil, We’re Northern Ireland” as Alan Cooper of WSM AFC held the microphone below our club fleg which made the background even more green. Even the trees stopped to listen as a small corner of Northern Ireland had hit the seaside town, and their football team’s pitch.

Seizing the opportunity even more, we then launched into a version of “Away In A Manger” while Alan Cooper and a few Weston fans looked flabbergasted at a bunch of eejits with no links whatsoever to Weston Super Mare AFC randomly chanting at their final home match. Alan then did the quickest ever interview with me, where he asked me a question over the stadium’s loudspeaker and I answered a completely different question! He asked me “Will you be back for a pre-season friendly” and I replied that we’d had a great day and we wished WSM AFC all the best in their return to this division. Even though they got relegated, they didn’t actually go down, as another team went into administration and Weston were saved…Maybe even our luck inspired them.

After this it was straight to the bar, where I was to learn that my football team AFC Bournemouth drew and that it would keep us up ( a 1-1 with Gillingham I think) and Richboy shed a tear as Leeds finally succumbed to relegation and at the same time announced they were going into administration. As the football results came in we consumed yet more beers and got Gary Owers over for a photo with our club fleg as we sang “One Gary Owers” to him. We also met his wife, who some of the boys described as a MILF! Gary was great craic as was Alan Cooper and the spirits were high in the bar, if not amongst the Weston Super Mare players. It was at this point that the Bognor Regis fans started talking to us, and even invited us to beach football the next morning and to someday hold a meeting in Bognor. We weren’t up early enough, and didn’t have enough numbers for the football, but maybe sometime the SOE NISC will visit Bognor down on the South Coast. Who knows?

After this it was quickly decided we should head back to Nick’s Bar by the pier and beach. None of us had booked any accomodation and we wanted to stay over and get this sorted. Some people had already gone home, such as Jono, Valerie, David, Tim, Dave King and Alan Chambers. And of those who stayed only Alex, Beverley and Alan Scott wouldn’t stay over. As we ordered a round of drinks in Nick’s a few of us dispersed round the corner to look for accomodation. At the start it was looking like it was going to be tough and also quite expensive, as we turned down two hotels due to the price. It was decent weather and a lot of tourists had made it down for the weekend. As the others drank in Nick’s Bar, 6 of us split into two groups to find somewhere to stay. Owen Millar, myself and Scatt Gordon disappeared up some side streets, finding a pub called the Raglan Arms in Upper Church Road. At this point we had received a call from Richboy to say that him, Tim Acheson and Graham Johnston had all found a room for 3 for the night. We told them to take it and the three of us would get sorted. As Northern Irish often do this meant ordering another pint in the Raglan Arms (Fosters I vividly recall, I was surprisingly thirsty after the walk along the promenade and up side streets). The three of us got talking to the landlord, a guy who claimed Irish heritage but almost certainly appeared to look Asian. His name was Fred Murphy.

Or at least he told us his name was Fred Murphy. He had recently either bought the bar or the flat above and said he could offer us a wee room, totally undecorated and quite messy, but that the cost would be £30 between us, I mean thats £10 each. Of course straight away we went for it, walked up the stairs left our begs there, finished our pints and off back to Nick’s Bar to meet the rest of the lads. Scatt also brought his guitar to fill the English sunset with Ulster tones and out of the three of us staying in the room at the Raglan, we only had one key. We let Scatt keep the key and we all had mobile phones. This meeting also saw the first proper time that I wore the green snake round my neck. The snake cost £1 in a cheap shop in Belvedere in Kent and I randomly wore it round my neck that day.

The banter in Nick’s was great and it was slow to get served at the bar cos it got busy. We mingled with some young ladies who were drinking green cocktails and we shared some songs, before the sky got dark and Scatt decided to leave the guitar back at the room we were staying in. Sammy G had unfortunately had an ear infection and had been in hospital, missing his own meeting, but gladly Chris his son had represented him all day and Sammy turned up at Nick’s that night to enjoy a bit of a laugh with us. It was great to see him. By this point some others had gone home, and I got Sweet Northern Ireland (Caroline) on the DJ’s setlist. We all got up and danced when it came on and it was total carnage. The English were loving it however and the place was buzzing. Soon Alan Scott said he wanted to go home and we replied with a “We’re not we’re not we’re not going home”, but one toss of a coin and he won the bet to leave so we let him go, before heading to the beach for some football and photos by the beach and pier. A pier which sadly has since suffered a fire and is now ruined. The photos we have show the wonderful pier in all its glory with some members of SOE NISC in them. Then it got to the stage where Owen said “right lads we need to find a nightclub for the rest of the night.” Of course the only problem was we were all dressed in green football shirts so may not be let in. Step in Owen Millar with the gem of asking the bouncer on the door at Cabot Club “Here, where’s a good place to go clubbing round here?” and despite us all being intoxicated we got in no problem and had a great night in there, both upstairs and downstairs. Last thing I remember was Owen and me dancing to Mr Brightside by The Killers with two policewomen and a bottle of wine. This was an awesome night, and possibly the last one this mad in the SOENISC cannon for a while…the night was soon over.

Next morning we left Fred Murphy’s wee pub (The Raglan Arms) and felt like a fry up by the beach and pier in Nick’s Bar. I ordered my fry up and a cup of tea from a very very pretty looking barmaid. When asking her name and ordering Lime Bacardi Breezers in the Weston Super Mare sun, I suddenly realised I was infatuated by her. So much so that I had about 8 Lime Bacradi Breezers and made remarks at her using foam letters on our table. Owen found it hilarious. I just wanted a date. And I got it, surreal world this, but within a week I had returned back to Weston Super Mare to take this wonderful young lady out for dinner and drinks. I danced away with her, stayed at hers and she disappeared into the beach line of Weston as I headed for my train that day. I fear I left some dreams in Weston Super Mare this time, they’ll remain there forever with the magic Liz Carter. My dream date and another SOENISC meeting were over for now…

Bars we drank in – First Great Western Train Bar, The Cabot, Nick’s, Weston Super Mare AFC Bar, The Raglan Arms, The Cabot, Nick’s.

Who went – Jonny Blair, Owen Millar, Tim Beattie, Dave King, Tim Acheson, Alan Chambers, Alan Scott, Alex Higgins, Beverley Perrett, Jono Crute, Scott Gordon, Richard Ingram (Richboy), Sammy Gordon, Chris Gordon, Valerie Crute, David Purchase, Graham Johnston.

The You Tube Clip of us at WSM AFC’s Woodspring Stadium:

Thirsty Thursdays: Timmy Mallett Night in Jumpin Jaks, Bournemouth, England

Posted on by Jonny Blair
Thirsty Thursdays: Timmy Mallett Night in Jumpin Jaks, Bournemouth, England

In the 1980s as a kid I always used to watch the morning television shows, it was the entertainment at the time wasn’t it? I don’t watch anywhere near as much TV nowadays, but I do remember Timmy Mallett, his ‘Wacaday’ show and the awful single (but funny) “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny.” So having lived in Bournemouth for a few months, there was advertised a “Timmy Mallett night” advertised on a cold Tuesday in January 2004. It was to be in the lively Jumpin Jaks nightclub by Bournemouth Pier, so naturally I wanted to go and meet Timmy Mallett and also to get hammered. I had to see who else was up for it. There was Steve Compton, my housemate at the time and he was always up for a night out, so that was two of us. We then got in touch with some Winton-based mates, namely Jody Casey and Dancing Andy and the night was ready to begin. A few of the girls I hung out with at the time (Abi, Australian Emma, Claire and Hannah) all turned down the night as did Dan and Austin, so it was just the four of us, a lads night to meet an ex-TV star…

I picked Jody and Dancing Andy up and we got a carryout on the drive back to mine, where Jody saw fit to buy a Star Wars Limited Edition Clingon Beer. We sat at mine sipping the carryouts and then decided to head in a taxi (cold winter and easily split between four of us) to the Moon In The Square, the Wetherspoons pub. Once in there we started necking the beers and alcopops. You know, the amount I used till drink in them days startles me now, I really don’t think I could handle that much now! We didn’t book tickets for the Timmy Mallett night, assumed we’d be OK on the night, on the door. And we were although there was a big queue. I remember Jody had a few mates going in there as well (who I would also later know quite well through media at Bournemouth University) – Dave Paine and Andy McGill. Once we got into Jumpin Jaks we realised how cheap it was – Tuesday’s at the time were student nights and those VK alcopops were £1.50 each as were pints of Foster’s. We started on the pints and as the night got older, we were younging ourselves down with the multiple flavours of cheap VK alcopops (anyone out there care to remember Husky’s Clear? Or Smirnoff Mule? – they were MY teenage alcopops!), which included cherry, orange, lemon, apple and possibly another flavour (let’s say avocado…). We were necking them all really quickly as the place got rammed and Timmy Mallett came on stage amid a load of cheers. Not only did he look the part and was dressed the same way as he was in the 1980s, but he had two fit ladies with him.

The ladies were really attractive and time and again they would put money, or pieces of paper down their bikini tops and bottoms. I got excited hoping for fanny glimpses and nipple slips. In those days I was always horny. Soon though Jody had come back from the bar telling us that all the shots were £1, Corky’s Apple and Cherry. So we all chipped in about £10 each and ended up having 10 shots each, the last ones of which were delivered on a tray there was so many of them. We downed them as Mallett asked members of the audience on stage for a gameshow. All of us were too pished and enjoying the shots too much to care about the gameshow. I just wanted to see Mallett, get hit by his hammer, get his autograph and literally GET HAMMERED. It didn’t take long, on the next trip to the bar Dancing Andy told us that we had used up ALL their remaining shot glasses with our antics. Hardly surprising as we had necked 40 between us, encouraging the bouncer at one point to come over to me and ask “are all those shots yours?” “Aye the are” said I, honestly. The dancefloor was packed and hits such as Jason Donovan’s “Too Many Broken Hearts” had us all up dancing ridiculously to 80s pop music, then Mallett asked everyone to form a queue to meet him on the stage. Me and Jody queued and queued and eventually got to the front where Mallett whacked us each on our heads with his Mallett’s Mallett, I grabbed a quick autograph as well on a piece of paper, and soon we were back on the alcopops absolutely blootered. I’d met Timmy Mallett!

A wee bit after that we were all so wasted I couldn’t remember much, but Steve at one point turned to me and said “is that thon bird you pulled a few months back?”, and there she was a girl I pulled on a totally different night in The Opera House in Boscombe. I went over to her again (a Hannah), pulled her, she had a tongue and lip piercing, and I invited her back to mine to sleep in my bed. Dancing Andy and Jody also stayed at mine and Steve’s that night. We were totally wrecked! Hannah’s mate was also rather horny but had a strange nickname of “Skag”, Dancing Andy took a quick liking to her and pulled her back to mine as well just for a laugh. Dancing Andy later confessed that this lady “kept grabbing my balls and penis all night”, to be honest it’s not something to complain about is it? The next morning I gave the girls a lift home, and dropped Andy and Jody off as well. The four guys that were there that night will all recount fond memories of the night we met Timmy Mallett. For me its the first part, I decided to go and meet him again and I’ll post about that some other time!

I didn’t take any photies that night, but luckily Timmy Mallett’s website and cameraman did and he managed to capture me and Jody at least at some point on his filim roll. That’s the one’s shown here.

Who went – Jonny Blair, Steve Compton, Jody Casey, Dancing Andy. (Chris Downing, Andy McGill and Dave Paine also there)

Jumpin Jaks, Bournemouth, January 2004:
http://www.brillianttv.co.uk/wacaday/gigpics-bournemouth.html

We’re Wide Awake, Wacaday from the 1980s:

Kylie Minogue on Wacaday in 1988:

Timmy Mallett as a pop star, singing here on Top of The Pops his single “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny” in 1990.