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eiffel_71Went over to Gunwharf on Thursday for the Jubilee beer festival at the Old Customs House. Opened with a Fuller’s Platinum Jubilee ale; it was glorious sunshine so went to sit at one of the outside trestle tables. A lady standing at a table by the entrance remarked “You haven’t had your photo taken yet”. She indicated a cardboard cutout of Her Maj and asked to use my phone. I went over to QE2 and put my arm over her shoulder, whereupon she began to fold. “Don’t knock her down,” exhorted a barman and I stood her back up for the pic. Later a gust of wind blew her over but I managed to prop her firmly back up.
I went on to try Hog’s Back Majestea, and Pompey Royal from our own Fallen Acorn, then went to check out the plethora of street food stalls across the square. The fried chicken from Baked Bird and the rump cap from the Brazilian churrasco van were both first class.
Friday went to Portchester football ground for the Lee Rigby Memorial match. A team of ex-Portsmouth players featuring Brett Pitman, Dave Waterman and Chris Burns faced the Lee Rigby Select, composed of former Rangers stars including Mark Hateley, Pedro Mendes and Mark Walters, augmented by other ex-pros Keith Gillespie and Jason Dodd, two fans who’d won an auction (proceeds to the Lee Rigby Foundation) for places on the team, SAS veteran Phil Campion, and AFC Portchester’s own kit man TC! There was a great turnout of Pompey and Rangers fans and the ground was festooned with Pompey banners and flags from Rangers supporters clubs all over England (plus Melbourne). I joined Lewis and a few more of the Arancione on the main terrace; we all chatted over past football matches seen and youthful memories of World Cups on telly, as an entertaining game ended 8-6 to Pompey with Brett Pitman and Pedro Mendes both scoring spectacular goals and one of the fans getting on the scoresheet.
Saturday was the Jubilee Music Festival at the Powder Monkey taphouse at Explosion! museum. Jade joined me for this one and we bumped into my old pal Michelle, ex-Navy, former local woman footballer and now a referee. We had excellent Powder Monkey Dogs (one of the several types of loaded hot dog on offer) and I quaffed the brewery’s own Drunken Sailor stout and a Devon Red cider as we saw a superb female-fronted pop-rock covers band called Magenta Bling. Much to our delight, their set included Transvision Vamp’s Baby I Don’t Care and Kirsty’s There’s A Guy Works Down The Chip Shop Swears He’s Elvis.
Yesterday, I did one last bit of groundhopping for the very end of the season, heading for London (topping off Jubilee weekend with a trip to the Royal city!) to see Grimsby Town v Solihull Moors in the National League promotion final at London Stadium, a ground I’d yet to visit. Leaving the tube at Stratford station, it was nostalgia central for me as I lived in Stratford from age 24 to 32. While hordes of Grimsby and Solihull fans flowed up a staircase leading them towards the stadium, I had a little stroll down memory lane to take.
I walked along Romford Road, past familiar landmarks like the library, the law courts and the fire station, detouring down a side street where two of the the Legendary Ladies lived during my last year at QM. My old street is still there, though with a Sainsbury’s Local now at the top of it where a filling station once stood. It was lovely wandering along that homely old road again, wishing it was still the mid-1990s and I was still living there. Of course I stopped outside my old house. It’s looking much the same, though, alas, several letters are now missing from the glass panel above the front door. While I was looking at the old place one of the current residents emerged, a youngish black man with short dreadlocks listening to music on earphones, and I had to move along a few doors down to avoid him thinking I was there for suspicious reasons. Once he’d gone I got a pic of the house and began walking back down Romford Road towards the stadium.
My old local, The Pigeons, where I frequently drank with Carly and Angela, two of the women in the house, where I watched most of Euro 96 and where I once kissed a friendly barmaid, is now a Tesco Express. At least the facade has been preserved including the metal lettering ‘The Pigeons’. I guess that’s better than nothing.
It took a hell of a time to walk up to London Stadium, and just walking around the stadium to my entrance was also long. Once in the impressive concourse, despite not having eaten since breakfast I had to put thoughts of food to one side and make my way up the stairs to my seat. I was in the upper tier, in a section overlooking one of the corners. While the Grimsby sections were full, I was in a Solihull area but had hardly anyone in the block around me; most of the Solihull fans were just along from me and in the lower tier.
At the 40 minute mark I went for something to eat. The designers of London Stadium had disastrously omitted to furnish the upper tier with food outlets, so I had to make my way down a metal staircase and through a glass door manned by a steward to get to them. I went for a Prime Burger, a Mars bar and a Sprite. As I was walking back towards the staircase a couple of Solihull fans let out rabid cheers. I knew from that that they’d scored.
The Prime Burger was very tasty, though I wish a cheeseless option had been offered. During the second half Grimsby equalised. Late attempts on goal by both sides came to nothing and so it was extra time. Still peckish, I nipped back down the staircase only to find all the food outlets shut. I asked a steward, who said they all close 15 minutes into the second half. It was wearily and on leaden feet that I dragged myself back up the stairs and back to my seat.
Grimsby scored during extra time. Several of their fans let off flares, black and white smoke drifting onto the pitch. The match ended, Grimsby were back in the Football League. I rose to my feet to clap the victors then joined the trickle of deflated Brummies beginning to drift out of the stadium. Outside, I followed a sign that indicated West Ham tube but soon found myself on a deserted road leading apparently to nowhere. I turned back, passed the London Aquatics Centre where ten years ago I saw Michael Phelps and Rebecca Adlington, and joined the hordes of fans walking towards Stratford tube. There was a Jubilee line train on one of the platforms when we reached the station; I walked on past the sardine-packed carriages to the far end where there were some carriages with a few seats to spare. Just had time to get a falafel and salad sandwich, biscuit and bottle of water in Pret at Waterloo before the Portsmouth train went.
Back to work this morning.
I went on to try Hog’s Back Majestea, and Pompey Royal from our own Fallen Acorn, then went to check out the plethora of street food stalls across the square. The fried chicken from Baked Bird and the rump cap from the Brazilian churrasco van were both first class.
Friday went to Portchester football ground for the Lee Rigby Memorial match. A team of ex-Portsmouth players featuring Brett Pitman, Dave Waterman and Chris Burns faced the Lee Rigby Select, composed of former Rangers stars including Mark Hateley, Pedro Mendes and Mark Walters, augmented by other ex-pros Keith Gillespie and Jason Dodd, two fans who’d won an auction (proceeds to the Lee Rigby Foundation) for places on the team, SAS veteran Phil Campion, and AFC Portchester’s own kit man TC! There was a great turnout of Pompey and Rangers fans and the ground was festooned with Pompey banners and flags from Rangers supporters clubs all over England (plus Melbourne). I joined Lewis and a few more of the Arancione on the main terrace; we all chatted over past football matches seen and youthful memories of World Cups on telly, as an entertaining game ended 8-6 to Pompey with Brett Pitman and Pedro Mendes both scoring spectacular goals and one of the fans getting on the scoresheet.
Saturday was the Jubilee Music Festival at the Powder Monkey taphouse at Explosion! museum. Jade joined me for this one and we bumped into my old pal Michelle, ex-Navy, former local woman footballer and now a referee. We had excellent Powder Monkey Dogs (one of the several types of loaded hot dog on offer) and I quaffed the brewery’s own Drunken Sailor stout and a Devon Red cider as we saw a superb female-fronted pop-rock covers band called Magenta Bling. Much to our delight, their set included Transvision Vamp’s Baby I Don’t Care and Kirsty’s There’s A Guy Works Down The Chip Shop Swears He’s Elvis.
Yesterday, I did one last bit of groundhopping for the very end of the season, heading for London (topping off Jubilee weekend with a trip to the Royal city!) to see Grimsby Town v Solihull Moors in the National League promotion final at London Stadium, a ground I’d yet to visit. Leaving the tube at Stratford station, it was nostalgia central for me as I lived in Stratford from age 24 to 32. While hordes of Grimsby and Solihull fans flowed up a staircase leading them towards the stadium, I had a little stroll down memory lane to take.
I walked along Romford Road, past familiar landmarks like the library, the law courts and the fire station, detouring down a side street where two of the the Legendary Ladies lived during my last year at QM. My old street is still there, though with a Sainsbury’s Local now at the top of it where a filling station once stood. It was lovely wandering along that homely old road again, wishing it was still the mid-1990s and I was still living there. Of course I stopped outside my old house. It’s looking much the same, though, alas, several letters are now missing from the glass panel above the front door. While I was looking at the old place one of the current residents emerged, a youngish black man with short dreadlocks listening to music on earphones, and I had to move along a few doors down to avoid him thinking I was there for suspicious reasons. Once he’d gone I got a pic of the house and began walking back down Romford Road towards the stadium.
My old local, The Pigeons, where I frequently drank with Carly and Angela, two of the women in the house, where I watched most of Euro 96 and where I once kissed a friendly barmaid, is now a Tesco Express. At least the facade has been preserved including the metal lettering ‘The Pigeons’. I guess that’s better than nothing.
It took a hell of a time to walk up to London Stadium, and just walking around the stadium to my entrance was also long. Once in the impressive concourse, despite not having eaten since breakfast I had to put thoughts of food to one side and make my way up the stairs to my seat. I was in the upper tier, in a section overlooking one of the corners. While the Grimsby sections were full, I was in a Solihull area but had hardly anyone in the block around me; most of the Solihull fans were just along from me and in the lower tier.
At the 40 minute mark I went for something to eat. The designers of London Stadium had disastrously omitted to furnish the upper tier with food outlets, so I had to make my way down a metal staircase and through a glass door manned by a steward to get to them. I went for a Prime Burger, a Mars bar and a Sprite. As I was walking back towards the staircase a couple of Solihull fans let out rabid cheers. I knew from that that they’d scored.
The Prime Burger was very tasty, though I wish a cheeseless option had been offered. During the second half Grimsby equalised. Late attempts on goal by both sides came to nothing and so it was extra time. Still peckish, I nipped back down the staircase only to find all the food outlets shut. I asked a steward, who said they all close 15 minutes into the second half. It was wearily and on leaden feet that I dragged myself back up the stairs and back to my seat.
Grimsby scored during extra time. Several of their fans let off flares, black and white smoke drifting onto the pitch. The match ended, Grimsby were back in the Football League. I rose to my feet to clap the victors then joined the trickle of deflated Brummies beginning to drift out of the stadium. Outside, I followed a sign that indicated West Ham tube but soon found myself on a deserted road leading apparently to nowhere. I turned back, passed the London Aquatics Centre where ten years ago I saw Michael Phelps and Rebecca Adlington, and joined the hordes of fans walking towards Stratford tube. There was a Jubilee line train on one of the platforms when we reached the station; I walked on past the sardine-packed carriages to the far end where there were some carriages with a few seats to spare. Just had time to get a falafel and salad sandwich, biscuit and bottle of water in Pret at Waterloo before the Portsmouth train went.
Back to work this morning.
no subject
Date: 2022-06-09 07:44 pm (UTC)I'm glad you had such a nice time at the Jubilee festival.