Walsall Senior Cup Final – Chasetown v Rushall Olympic

Well I wasn’t going to miss out on watching Chase in a cup final, was I? Despite another fucking train strike. Where there’s a will, there’s a way…

Southbound

I tootled to Blackpool Central Coach ‘Station’, which is basically a handful of bus ‘shelters’ opposite Coral Island. There are no departure boards or anything so you just have to loiter and hope your coach will turn up (they’re usually late). This one did sort of arrive on time but the driver needed a break or breakfast or something so we had to wait a further 20-30 minutes before being allowed to board. I try not to stress about such things, whiling away ‘waiting time’ reading or writing, which is what I did this morning.

At last on board, I continued writing and reading all the way via Manchester to Birmingham Coach Station. I do enjoy travelling, as it forces me to undertake these activities, as there’s no tv or chores or people to distract me. It’s pure ‘me’ time – and ‘me’ loves reading and writing.

In Birmingham, I found myself immediately confused by the relocation (again) of the bus stop for the X51 to Walsall. I reluctantly consulted Google Maps, which successfully led me there (law of averages). By now I was ravenous and realised that I hadn’t got a plan for lunch (you’ll soon see why it’s so important that I make such plans). I rang the pub to make sure they’d still be serving food by the time I got there (later than advertised) and mercifully I was reassured. Phew!

Now in Walsall, I darted off the bus in the direction of my old local (I lived in Walsall for 20 years – don’t ask).

Black Country Arms

I slipped into auto pilot as soon as I stepped through the doors. First stop was the beer board, from which I always select three beers to make up a flight.

…and a Pig for the hat trick of darks.

I had failed to study the menu before my visit (another error) so again ordered my ‘usual’ (enjoyed most Fridays for many years) of the curry of the day with half and half.

Continuing with tradition, I left the poppadum and naan, as well as a number of chips. This was Paddington’s voice in my head, suggesting I leave the unhealthier options. This decision would prove to be a bad one, as you’ll soon see.

I’d arranged to meet Bob in here but time was ticking on now thanks to my late coach, so I messaged him to reschedule our rendezvous to another pub that it was vital I visited today. Meanwhile I darted round the corner to ditch my bag in my hotel.

Lyndon House Hotel

This was very much a flying visit, with a quick check-in and fleeting enquiries about breakfast and check-out time. I followed the maze of corridors up to my room, quickly unpacked and darted back across town to meet Bob and drink my favourite beer of all time. More of the hotel later.

Katz

I never bother looking at the beer board in here for obvious reasons but here it is for your perusal.

As I waited for Jase to pour my pint of fluffy deliciousness, I pondered that I was still hungry (funny that, having left most of my lunch). I hunted for clues as to what I might eat here.

Sadly there were no Black Pudding Scotch Eggs left (Jase went to the kitchen to check). I realised that was probably for the best. But I was still hungry. So here’s what I had.

I never ever share food such as sweets or crisps, nor have I ever understood why people do this. I am, however, unable to resist such offerings myself. I’ll always take a pork scratching when offered, even though I hate the things. Today, however, for the very first time, I opened my bag of crisps on the table in the hope that my companion would help save me from them.

This wasn’t my imaginary friend, by the way – Bob had now arrived. I’ve mentioned before how the people I’ve kept in touch with from the West Midlands aren’t necessarily the ones I would have expected to. Bob and I have become penpals via email since I moved back to Blackpool so it made sense to arrange to meet him on my visit to Walsall today. I met Bob through Friends of Highgate Brewery and Walsall CAMRA, who helped me find the decent watering holes in Walsall back in the day (there aren’t many left, so don’t expect much of a crawl here).

Bob did not help me out with the crisps and I demolished the lot within minutes. And I was still hungry. Oh dear.

By now, Evo had arrived (you’ll enjoy his blog btw – here’s a link). Evo proved equally useless at assisting with the scoffing of snackage, so it was down to me to finish the (big) packet of Mini Cheddars. Surely that was enough to satisfy my appetite?

Happily, that proved to be the case (for now, at least) so I was just about able to resist these offerings.

Whilst here, I enjoyed this tune.

It was great to catch up with my old Walsall buddies. Evo was alarmed at the news I was walking to Bescot from town, insisting that I didn’t walk back into town after the match. I had no idea what he meant about the walk until about ten minutes into my walk when I was already wishing I’d got the bus.

Chasetown v Rushall Olympic

The above was a useful and timely update from Chase, although I’m not used to being segregated at non league matches.

Whilst queueing to get in, I was surprised and delighted to spot a Non League Cat (a tangerine and white one, at that), who had apparently been round the pitch three times before being ejected from the ground.

Upon entering the ground, I made my way to the facilities in the corner. It had been a few years since I’d been here but the layout was still familiar.

I usually have a Balti Pie here but today I was just going to have a bottle of water…until I spotted the Lion Bars…

It was a mild night for football, which is a rare do. You might observe from the photo above that I’ve got my hoodie wrapped around my waist (although I did put it back on as the evening began to cool).

Chase took an early lead but alas our opponents (from two divisions higher) responded with three goals before half time and it was game over. Here’s the highlights of the match. Can you see me behind the goal?

Oh and I rather enjoyed this tune at half time.

I sat with Paul in the second half and he kindly offered me a lift back into town, so I managed to avoid the dodgy walk back.

Lyndon House Hotel (again)

You may recall I stayed here a couple of years back and found the accommodation to be quirky, having to slither under the bed in order to plug in my phone charger. I was pleased (or slightly disappointed?) to find the plug sockets easy to access in my room for tonight. There was still quirkiness, though, as apparently you have to stand inside the wardrobe to dry your hair…

I went straight to bed without partaking in any post-match beers, as Paddington reminded me I’d done enough damage with all the shit I’d eaten today.

I would have liked to have gone to Jack & Ada’s for breakfast the next morning, but breakfast was included at the hotel, so I decided I might as well partake. Here’s what I had.

With time to kill before my coach home from Birmingham this afternoon, I had planned to visit a couple of tourist attractions in Walsall that I am embarrassed to say I never went to in my 20 years of living there. These were Walsall Leather Museum and The New Art Gallery Walsall. However, the weather was so lovely this morning, I altered my plans in favour of enjoying the great outdoors.

Walsall Arboretum

I barely visited the arbo when I lived in Walsall – despite living in walking distance for a number of years. I do, however, recall visiting for Walsall Illuminations in my early years of living down here. Of course I was never going to be impressed by what I called ‘Blackpool rejects’ but the illuminations did bring people into Walsall – including coach trips from Blackpool. Bonkers, right?

The arbo is MASSIVE – I couldn’t quite get over its scale on my circuits of the park this morning – and it is an excellent location for a walk, run or cycle – or just to hang out somewhere scenic and peaceful. Why did I never come here back in the day? Little wonder my mental health was so bad at times.

After a couple of hours walking and draining my water bottle, I decided to make my way towards Birmingham so I could have a relaxing afternoon before my coach trip home. I popped into Morrisons to buy a sandwich for the journey.

And then I boarded the X51 into Birmingham.

Northbound

I was soon settled in Birmingham Coach Station with a good couple of hours to go until the coach to Blackpool was due to depart. I settled back in a seat with my sandwich and my water bottle and my book. I was still reading and very much enjoying The Art of Asking: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help by Amanda Palmer, although this song of hers is the saddest song I have heard in my life and I was unashamedly weeping buckets in the station as I listened to it.

With around 20 minutes remaining until my coach was due to depart, I decided it was time to make myself comfortable with a quick wee and a top up of my (now empty) water bottle for the journey. I trotted over to the toilets on the station and was surprised to find a queue, comprising men and women. I was dismayed to observe that the delay was due to turnstiles requiring 30p entry to access the toilets. Hmm. I didn’t have any cash. I needed to think on my feet here. I trotted over to the shop and asked if they offered cashback (they didn’t). Hmm. Ah – there was a cash machine on the other side of the station, so I made my way back over there. Ah – there’s a change machine too…oh but it doesn’t accept notes over a fiver. Hmm. I doubted the cash machine would dispense fivers (although this has been known) but I could always pop back to the shop and buy something with a tenner. Now at the cash machine, I inserted my card and my pin…and received a message on screen (which I have never seen before or since, and am convinced isn’t a thing) informing me that my card was not supported by that machine. What the actual fuck? What was I supposed to do now? I needed a wee and some water and the clock was ticking with my coach due to depart soon.

I darted out of the station back in the direction of town. No, there weren’t any shops that way, not this side of town. I turned heel and went the other way, scanning desperately for anywhere I could have a wee. I knew The Anchor was just round the corner, so I dived in there, hoping for a discreet, unsighted toilet visit. Dammit – I had to walk through the bar to get to the toilets. The barman greeted me warmly so I felt obliged to feign interest in the pump clips. I considered them for a few seconds before announcing:

‘Hmm I can’t decide – I’ll consider my options on the loo.’

On my way there, I was disturbed to spot a sign confirming this was a CASH ONLY pub – so I couldn’t even buy that half I didn’t even want, so I’d have to continue this charade. Fuck’s sake. Anyway, I made it to the loo and filled up my water bottle from the tap before returning to the bar with a gushing apology.

‘Oh, don’t you take cards? Sorry, I haven’t got any cash on me.’

What a fucking palaver just to have a wee!

I returned to the coach station and was soon aboard the coach, settled comfortably back in my seat with my water and my book. And relax…

I soon became aware of grumblings around me, fellow passengers anxious that the coach was late departing, why weren’t we moving? It transpired that the coach wouldn’t start. Hmm. So much for being settled. I repacked my rucksack, ready for a quick departure if required. It turned out this was indeed required, as we were asked to alight and board a coach in a neighbouring bay. Fingers crossed this one would start!

Now settled back into a seat on coach #2, I was dismayed to find myself seated next to the anxious woman from coach #1. She immediately began a conversation with me.

‘Are you offended by bananas?’

I relayed the story of my exploding banana from Burton before burying my head in my book and hoping she wouldn’t keep talking (she didn’t). I soon finished my book and pulled out my AirPods to listen to the latest Finding Funnies Podcast.

That had been a most enjoyable adventure in my former hometown and I’m sure it won’t be long before I visit again. Indeed, I’m back in the West Midlands for my next blog, in which I enjoy some magnificent beers and a belting curry…

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Next Up: Stirchley & Harborne Pubs.