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The Floral Dance
Dec. 13th, 2021 06:30 pmTravelled down to Cornwall on Saturday for Clapton CFC's Women's FA Cup tie with Plymouth Argyle Women. Three changes of train altogether, a rapid turnaround at Salisbury (thankfully my train got in bang on time), a longer wait at Exeter St Davids allowing me to pop out to a nearby Costa for a festive panini and an After Eight hot chocolate, and a last change at Plymouth. Looking out of the window as we headed from Plymouth towards Cornwall, I spied a little muddy creek and wondered if that was the river Tamar. A few minutes later I saw a massive expanse of water and knew straight away that was the real Tamar, dividing cream-first land from jam-first land.
The Travelodge was right on the other side of Saltash from the station. I looked around for a taxi rank but didn't see one. Then I spotted the tourist information poster. It said "Saltash station has no taxis or rank". Needing the loo, I popped into a nearby pub. There was Christmas Ale on sale so I had to go for that. The barmaid was warm and friendly with me, but I came in the middle of her getting grief from one of the regulars because she wouldn't serve him another drink as his car was outside. He argued on as I sat and drank and looked up the route, preparing for a long walk. Fortunately, when I reached Fore Street, the main shopping street, there was a rank in view with a taxi sitting there and he was free.
The hotel was part of a road service station, and so reception faced a Burger King and a Subway across a welcome carpet. There was no-one behind the reception desk so after a few minutes I phoned the number given on the notice. The guy who answered was most apologetic and appeared through a door behind the desk before long. A quiet evening with the telly and a Whopper and chicken fries.
Yesterday morning called at the Subway. Breakfast was an excellent festive Brie sub and a chocolate orange cookie. Walked to the ground where a smattering of CCFC fans were in the bar. Went for a Fruit Cornish Rattler Cyder and chatted to some of the others. Some were under the impression that this was a more local game for me; they were staggered to hear my train journey down had been triple the length of my usual train rides to games in London.
Went out into the ground as the announcer was reading the teams out. He then welcomed everyone to the match in a jovial way, concluding "You cockneys, enjoy your visit to Cornwall, the pasties are great!" I went to the tea bar but, alas, they were already out of pasties.
On the field : Plymouth scored in the eighth minute and, although Clapton battled gamely throughout because that is their nature, we were outplayed throughout and Plymouth ended up 5-0 winners. The CCFC fans, though, did the girls proud throughout. Every song in the Tons repertoire (apart from the men's team specific ones) got aired and not once did we fall quiet. By the closing minutes we were singing the 'The thing I love most is being a Ton' song and after the final whistle we just kept singing it over and over again. The players walked partway across the pitch and applauded us, then we sang "Well played Plymouth" and the Plymouth players all came over and clapped us as they headed across the pitch and down the tunnel.
Our girls came over to right in front of us then, we gave them another rendition of "The thing I love most is being a Ton" then we sang "We're going to win the league" and goalie Polly stepped in front to say "Thank you all for your support, we couldn't have done it without you, and yes, we're going to win the league!" Massive cheer, Polly popped open a bottle of fizz that someone had handed her and the girls danced around cheering. We did the Yankee Doodle call and response and the crouching/standing 'lo lo lo' with the players. Then, not wanting the moment to end just yet, we just sang "the thing I love most is being a Ton" over and over for several minutes. Finally fans began to disperse and drift into the clubhouse.
Another Cornish Rattler and chat as the players mingled with us fans. Sophia, who knew who I was, thanked me for coming and I said "thank you all for the great memories". "We couldn't do it without you," she replied. The players had bowls of pasta laid on by the home club; one of the clubhouse people emerged from their reserved area to say there was plenty of food left and invited us fans to partake. The chicken pasta went down very well.
More chats with more fans and players until, wanting to make my walk back to the hotel before darkness descended, I said my goodbyes. A quiet evening with The Chart of Gold on Apple Radio, a snatch of Nativity Rocks on the telly and the final of I'm A Celebrity.
And so this morning, the dream over, it was the bus ride to Saltash station, homeward bound. I spotted some Clapton CFC stickers on metal boxes on the platform, stuck by some of our fans on arrival. From hearing a local lady talking to the information man on the intercom and then chatting to her friend, I made out that the 09.25 train, that I was booked on, wouldn't be going to Exeter St Davids as planned. I went over to ask them if the train had been cancelled; they said no, but it would be terminating at Plymouth. One of the ladies said they could claim Delay Repay but they weren't sure how; I advised them how to find the necessary site.
At Plymouth, I wandered around looking for a cafe or kiosk of any kind but the only ones were the wrong side of the ticket barrier. I managed to catch a train there that got me to Exeter in time to make the train I'd been meant to be on, but there wasn't time to go for anything to eat or drink. So I arrived back home on schedule but Hank Marvin.
The Travelodge was right on the other side of Saltash from the station. I looked around for a taxi rank but didn't see one. Then I spotted the tourist information poster. It said "Saltash station has no taxis or rank". Needing the loo, I popped into a nearby pub. There was Christmas Ale on sale so I had to go for that. The barmaid was warm and friendly with me, but I came in the middle of her getting grief from one of the regulars because she wouldn't serve him another drink as his car was outside. He argued on as I sat and drank and looked up the route, preparing for a long walk. Fortunately, when I reached Fore Street, the main shopping street, there was a rank in view with a taxi sitting there and he was free.
The hotel was part of a road service station, and so reception faced a Burger King and a Subway across a welcome carpet. There was no-one behind the reception desk so after a few minutes I phoned the number given on the notice. The guy who answered was most apologetic and appeared through a door behind the desk before long. A quiet evening with the telly and a Whopper and chicken fries.
Yesterday morning called at the Subway. Breakfast was an excellent festive Brie sub and a chocolate orange cookie. Walked to the ground where a smattering of CCFC fans were in the bar. Went for a Fruit Cornish Rattler Cyder and chatted to some of the others. Some were under the impression that this was a more local game for me; they were staggered to hear my train journey down had been triple the length of my usual train rides to games in London.
Went out into the ground as the announcer was reading the teams out. He then welcomed everyone to the match in a jovial way, concluding "You cockneys, enjoy your visit to Cornwall, the pasties are great!" I went to the tea bar but, alas, they were already out of pasties.
On the field : Plymouth scored in the eighth minute and, although Clapton battled gamely throughout because that is their nature, we were outplayed throughout and Plymouth ended up 5-0 winners. The CCFC fans, though, did the girls proud throughout. Every song in the Tons repertoire (apart from the men's team specific ones) got aired and not once did we fall quiet. By the closing minutes we were singing the 'The thing I love most is being a Ton' song and after the final whistle we just kept singing it over and over again. The players walked partway across the pitch and applauded us, then we sang "Well played Plymouth" and the Plymouth players all came over and clapped us as they headed across the pitch and down the tunnel.
Our girls came over to right in front of us then, we gave them another rendition of "The thing I love most is being a Ton" then we sang "We're going to win the league" and goalie Polly stepped in front to say "Thank you all for your support, we couldn't have done it without you, and yes, we're going to win the league!" Massive cheer, Polly popped open a bottle of fizz that someone had handed her and the girls danced around cheering. We did the Yankee Doodle call and response and the crouching/standing 'lo lo lo' with the players. Then, not wanting the moment to end just yet, we just sang "the thing I love most is being a Ton" over and over for several minutes. Finally fans began to disperse and drift into the clubhouse.
Another Cornish Rattler and chat as the players mingled with us fans. Sophia, who knew who I was, thanked me for coming and I said "thank you all for the great memories". "We couldn't do it without you," she replied. The players had bowls of pasta laid on by the home club; one of the clubhouse people emerged from their reserved area to say there was plenty of food left and invited us fans to partake. The chicken pasta went down very well.
More chats with more fans and players until, wanting to make my walk back to the hotel before darkness descended, I said my goodbyes. A quiet evening with The Chart of Gold on Apple Radio, a snatch of Nativity Rocks on the telly and the final of I'm A Celebrity.
And so this morning, the dream over, it was the bus ride to Saltash station, homeward bound. I spotted some Clapton CFC stickers on metal boxes on the platform, stuck by some of our fans on arrival. From hearing a local lady talking to the information man on the intercom and then chatting to her friend, I made out that the 09.25 train, that I was booked on, wouldn't be going to Exeter St Davids as planned. I went over to ask them if the train had been cancelled; they said no, but it would be terminating at Plymouth. One of the ladies said they could claim Delay Repay but they weren't sure how; I advised them how to find the necessary site.
At Plymouth, I wandered around looking for a cafe or kiosk of any kind but the only ones were the wrong side of the ticket barrier. I managed to catch a train there that got me to Exeter in time to make the train I'd been meant to be on, but there wasn't time to go for anything to eat or drink. So I arrived back home on schedule but Hank Marvin.
