*Contains adult themes and material which some people may find offensive*
Date: Wednesday 27th November 2019
Location: Rotherham
Ever have one of those days where you get home at the end of it and think “what the hell in the name of absolute pant shitting fuck just happened?“ Did I wake this morning or am I still asleep and hallucinating from an overdose of lucozade? Why am I gazing up at the ceiling thinking that, if it were to suddenly collapse, it would still be preferable to any of the other experiences I’ve had today!
I’ll start at the beginning .....
Woke around 10.30 a.m. after a (mostly) sleepless night punctuated with nightmares. I was finding breathing difficult - probably a combination of a chesty cough, lacking the will to drag myself up into a sitting position and taking advantage of a free offer from a nearby massage parlour.
Anyway must have done something right because the next thing I’m aware of is; breakfast has been scoffed and I’m heading for the door and across the park.
Message on my mobile from the guy I’m buying the Nikon full frame camera from. Wants to know when I’m collecting? Hardly surprising it’s now about 11.00 am and I told him I’d probably be at his about three hours before that.
Nice guy, professional photographer who specialises in photographing; food, macro photography (extreme close ups), portraits amongst other things. Took time to go through the camera with me and explain some of the main functions.
Feels very well made and robust - should since it originally cost about £3000. I look forward to using this at steampunk events - especially some of the more exotic steampunks out there! Beware the following - Captain Victory is coming for you with his camera at a steampunk event near you! Look out; Debbie Dee, Amy Smith, Kat Croker, Diamond Rascal King, Julia Scott and the mad Canadian woman!!! Plus loads more whose name escapes me at the moment!!
Mr camera selling man - don’t know his name - made coffee and I was more than happy to talk cameras for a while. Somewhat unexpectedly I experienced a feeling of weightlessness and found myself lifted skywards by my scalp and forwards by the sensation of boot leather on my arse. I guessed that now was probably a good time to leave.
Bit of a (very small) claim to fame for the steampunks/goths who have visited the Magpie restaurant at Whitby. The photos in the brochures, menus for that restaurant, we’re all taken on my camera! (Not by me I hasten to add, but by the guy I bought it from). Impressed!? Aye - thought not, a bit of attention is so hard to come by 🥺
I planned to stay outside the guys house until the traffic quietened down but on reflection the road was somewhat on the narrow side. Though I wasn’t causing an obstruction. I checked google earth and discovered that only a few yards further along the road got significantly wider! With that I moved swiftly forwards to a new, more spacious, spot, went back for the moho then had lunch and a well earned kip to get over the dent in my bank balance.
JINXED: THE FIRST EVIDENCE! Above - a divider symbolising a separation between the good part of my day and the rest of it where, for the umpteenth time, everything went to shit.
I was due to return to Rotherham since I had a doctors appointment on Thursday. It was dark by now plus I was in unfamiliar territory. But no worries I have my special ‘Dedicated Motorhome Sat-Nav’ that will keep me on the straight and narrow! With that I input the post-code to The Foundry retail park in Rotherham and set off. I admit I wasn’t taking a great deal of notice of the direction I was heading since I was confident that my ‘Bloody Dedicated Motorhome Sat-Nav!!! would get me to where I needed to be. But, as I got closer to, what should be Rotherham, I became aware that the area around me and the place names were still unfamiliar.
The unfamiliarity did not last long ....
.... because peering out of my rain soaked window I was given - A SIGN! Skegness 54 miles’ WTAF!!!? How the hell did I end up here!? I looked again at my ‘Bloody Useless Dedicated Motorhome Sat-Nav only to see that it had conked out - no display, nothing,
I immediately pulled into a lay-by to examine why the ‘Bloody Useless Piece of Crap Dedicated Motorhome Sat-Nav’ wasn’t working and (assuming I could get the display back) check that I had input the correct postcode. Sure enough I had. See for yourself......
..... but even if I had pressed the wrong postcode all the other destinations in the menu were locations closer to Rotherham than bloody Skegness!
Since my sat nav was showing four minutes to ‘home’ I decided I might as well follow it to see where it actually led.....
This is where!!!
Ring any bells!?
Freaky Eh? Now I’m convinced that some sort of cosmic comedian is having a laugh.
In case you’ve forgotten this is the lay-by I was stuck on for about five days when my clutch burned out on the way back from ‘Asylum’ !!!
Funnily enough I had to cancel a get together with my friend Kat in Liverpool recently due to the problems with the water pump and the doctors appointments. I received a message from her in response....
“Are you sure that thing of yours isn't cursed or something?“
It’s a thought that had been at the back of my mind - as it does with anyone who has a string of things go wrong in close proximity. I mean - I’m an intelligent human being with three degrees (on the CD shelf under Motown) - but I shouldn't be having so many things go wrong.
I blame these things!!!!!
So just to keep you up to speed (which is more than I’m doing at the moment) I am Heading for Rotherham in South Yorkshire via Skegness in Lincoln thanks to my ‘Bloody Fucking Crap Bastard Overpriced Dedicated Motorhome Sat-Nav’ 😡
Then things got a bit surreal ....
The weather was lousy - dark, pouring with rain, blowing Gail (sorry - blowing A gale) struggling with misty windows (”play ‘misty‘ for me?” “no - fuck off - I’m already lost in a fog“) but then I saw a sign (I was getting a bit cynical about signs by now) I had never seen before - at least not on the outside of a Grimms book of fairy tales. ‘Troll Bridge’
Say What!?
Did I read that proper !?
Troll ....... Bridge
Troll ...? as in big ugly grey thing that grunts and owns a club?“
”No - that was Peter Stringfellow!” “Troll as in big scary monster!”
Bridge...? as in lurking under the ......
Fuck 🥺
My immediate response was to turn round and head back the way I came; except the road I was on was too narrow to turn round...
...and the Troll Bridge was now directly ahead.
I approached
Bloody Hell!!
I seriously thought about bringing the moho to a halt and escaping the troll by getting on all fours and crawling beneath the barrier - but that would be an understatement 😂 In truth I was too scared to do anything but drive forward and hope for the best.
From my position in the cab I could see one other vehicle in front of me - a car. But the clearly terrified driver just held out his hand in a gesture that suggested he be allowed to return to his village to be with his wife and children.
I saw clearly the object of his fear - that foul and loathsome creature of Camembert nightmares - the troll. I recoiled in a kind of tormented horror at the repulsiveness and ugliness of the beast. I was filled with disgust at his demeanour, so arrogant he was actually living in a see-through house in the middle of the bridge where all motorists could cower in fear at his might.
Then .... a glimmer of hope
The car driver seemed to be offering money to the beast! Must be trying to bribe him! What else could it be!? I knew the driver, like all other motorists, had already paid to use the roads by a cowardly and underhand form of payment called ‘Road Tax’ - cowardly because, if it wasn’t paid on time, the government would send its spiteful little elves during the night to run off with your car and smash it to bits so that you couldn’t have it any more. This little stunt then enabled the government to laugh at you peddling to work on that most ridiculous of conveyances the fold up bicycle.
Nothing for it, I was just going to have to bribe the Troll - better than being chomped alive I suppose. £6 poorer but at last free of the troll I continued on my way. ETA one hour - assuming no more disasters.
Oh dear
Not going to happen
Long tiring journey back to Rotherham. Hate night driving at the best of times but after all the hassle with; wind, rain, getting lost not to mention having to deal with strange and weird creatures like trolls, gremlins and haunted sat navs I just want to get back into Rotherham ready for my doctors visit in the morning. What do I think is the worst of the above?
You’d think the nightmare creatures wouldn’t you?
Uh uh
Pitch black roads. I cannot believe just how many roads there are without any form of lighting whatsoever - no street lamps, no overhead spotlights not even cats eyes. On top of that there are those people who drive up behind you and sit on your tail, leaving you to run the gauntlet of motorists heading towards you causing you to dip your headlights in order to avoid blinding them but severely impede your own view of the road ahead. It’s a night-time game that all motorists are obliged to play - it’s called ‘let’s see if we can guess where the road is while hurtling through the night at 50 mph“
Other motorists impress me with their night driving. No really, they do because it seems to me that every motorist in the entire world has the uncanny ability to drive blindfold. They drive at high speed round hairpin bends, negotiate crossroads barely stopping to see if there is anything coming, nip round roundabouts (is there any other way? nip square? nip triangular?) bounce over railway tracks a second before the barrier comes down and cleaves them in two - they probably wouldn’t notice anyway ...
”Got some egg and cress sandwiches here John - yer want one!“
“Aye shove one in me mouth for us wud yer - cheers mate”
“By the way did you realise the barrier at the level crossing just took half your car with it?”
“No shit?” “ave to ave a gander at that at the weekend - get me tools out”
You see, with me I don’t get how people make such quick decisions driving through the night at speed without falling foul of something or other ...
“Hey pop I think there’s someone in the road”
”now don’t you go worrying son, it’s only a bit of tumbleweed”
“no I’m quite sure it’s a person dad”
“Now quit yer spawkin’’ I know where I’m goi.....
BANG !!!
SCREAM !
Why you sorry lookin’ goddamned, short sighted son of a bitch! that was our Mary’s husband - Elmer” Cost me one of my best breeding horses, 10 sacks of grain and $637. Yo is gonna have to pay for a new one or she’ll be mighty sore with you mista“
”yeah of course, no problem. I have money I kin pay you now”
”groan”
“it’s OK pa he’s still aliv....
”You quit yer hollerin Mary and get yerself back in the house”
With me, if I couldn’t see clearly where I was going I would need to stop my vehicle, get out the car and assess the scene. Driving in the US of A recently .....
“What’s the problem dear?”
“Hmmm appears to be a dark patch in the road I’ll stop, and take a look”
FLASHING LIGHTS - HORN - LOTS OF SHOUTING
“What the fuck!!? Pull over to the side of the road you stoopid muthfucking limey bastard!”
“What is it”
”Just one o them impatient motorists dear, take no notice”
”In the road!”
“Dunno”
Can you see through it?
”Nah”
”What happens if you kick it”
”Ow”
Appears to be a young chappy. What‘s yer name son
”Elmer“
Why you sorry lookin’ goddamned, short sighted son of a bitch! that was our Mary’s husband - Elmer” Cost me one of my best breeding horses, 10 sacks of grain and $637. Yo is gonna have to pay for a new one or she’ll be mighty sore with you mista“
Meanwhile back in the UK and I’m nearing my destination. There are roadworks ahead, temporary traffic lights, a sign - ‘STOP MEN WORKING’ (what on earth for? they seem to be doing a good job) more hassle but at least ‘The Foundry’ is only round the corner - not long now then I can get some sleep.
I never learn
Waiting for the lights to change - enjoying the comfort of my captains chair and gazing nonchalantly at the glowing street lights, occasional passers by reflections in the water and fast food outlets taking last minute orders - I release the handbrake in readiness for the continuation of my journey.
Flashing blues and twos approaching from the rear, better wait while they’ve gone. I know everything is in order; tax, insurance and MOT amongst other things but you never know do you? Fortunately they whiz past en-route to ......
Then they stop ....
....and reverse backwards, dramatic stylee and screech to a halt inches from the front of my van.
Another set of blues and twos approaches - they take up a position inches from the rear of my van.
Theres nothing I can do other than sit tight and wait for them to make their intentions known. A policemen - I assume, though it’s hard to tell as he’s in plain clothes - casually walks past me on the drivers side and gives me a subtle nod. I think there’s the hint of a smile there as well, that or he’s recently shit him self and is trying to maintain a brave face.
He comes back, peers in at me - I peer out at him. We make eye contact. He makes a kind of swirly movement with the finger of his right hand somewhere approaching his temple, but I can’t be sure whether he’s indicating he’s bananas or wants me to open a window. I decide it’s the former but slide my window to one side just in case.
He tells me they are doing a check on motorhomes as a lot have been stolen recently (probably been hijacked by police cars!). I’m registered to a post code in Huddersfield so I look dodgy - apparently; and I always thought I had an honest face.
This all seems very surreal - boxed in by police cars, the plain clothed police officer, the casual wandering around my van - it is the police isn’t it!?
Then things become even more surreal. Another plain clothes police officer; this time a bespectacled blonde policewoman with a cheery smile and spirit of congeniality, motions for me to open the door. I’m slightly hesitant because a) Im thinking she’s more bananas than her colleague and b) because by now I’m half expecting her to tear of her blouse, flaunt her tits and burst into a chorus of ‘Congratulations’
Instead she says “ooh hats” (referring to my steampunk hats arranged along the dashboard). “Er yes” I say, hoping I don’t appear as confused as I feel.
“For reals!” (eh!?)
She’s aware what steampunk is so I tell her a little about what I do
”Wowsers” (wowsers!? - the modern police force!)
”That’s super cool! You’re really living the dream eh”
”Well.....er...“
“Can I try one on?“
”excuse me?”
“a hat! Can I try one on“
I pass her a hat telling her it might not fit as it’s a big size. As it happens it fits perfectly.
“Do you mind if I take a selfie?”
”go ahead”
She’s clearly not happy with the result
”would you mind taking a picture for me!?”
I take her mobile and photograph her. She smiles and says it looks great.
Her colleague returns “You're OK sir, everything checks out. Sorry to have detained you.
Well that was weird
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