A very proud moment for daddy and mummy Dukc.
Spent the remainder of Friday in Oxford with my mum- and sister-in-law and two dukcs and discovered The Grapes pub, an easy going amble from Gloucester Green. Highly recommended for its food, price and super-friendly landlady. She runs a very tight ship indeed. The two meals for £9 offer is beyond belief in such an expensive city.
Later that day, headed from Oxford the Brummingham for a friend’s party on the Saturday, staying at a Travel Lodge – more on that and the Little Chef next door in a separate entry methinks. Saturday was completed with a trip to Wolverhampton for a few beers followed by the party itself.
Finally, spent Sunday eating a culinary delight at the Mad O’Rourke’s Old Pie Factory, a legendary eating spot in the West Midlands. Mrs DD struggled with, but wolfed down whole the famous Desperate Dan Pie (picture below) and I had the Bob Marley pie, filled with a rather peppery version of jerk chicken (lots of good quality chicken, quite spicy). Unlike the cow pie this pie is somewhat diminutive, so if you should ever find yourself in the Dudley area, and you’ve a hunger on, go for the Desperate Dan. More on this mythical beast, and the pub itself, below.
www.madpies.co.uk
That pie really gives me the horn
I realise this place deserves a full review, and I will write up one when and if I get the time to do so.
After the cow pie experience we then had to get home from the Pie Factory in Tipton, near Dudley. Dudley to London isn’t a neighbourhood trip, but don’t see how you could do this more slowly other than by walking it. So, for the record, here’s last night’s trip home in full detail.
Getting home was deep phun. That’s the extreme version of fun with a P H. The kind of phun you get when a beloved brother dies or you wake up thinking it’s a Sunday morning, only to remember that Sunday didn’t register because of an extended hangover, and it is in fact a Monday. And 9.30am. You have to say it with a heavy, heavy dose of irony. PPPHHHHUN.
In fact you could say that the phun just went on and on….and on and on and on and on and on and on. And on. And phuncking on. Here’s our phun then.
1500 – waited for bus to Dudley by Pie Factory.
1520 – bus came (no. 300, an old L registered Dart)
1540– 126 bus to Birmingham from Dudley bus station.
1620 – arrived in Birmingham New Street
1800 – coach arrived (we could not get one before then as they were all booked up). There weren’t any cancellations.
1830 – the “1800” coach ended up being the 1830. Coach full of Ilford chavs, who actually turned out to be quite nice, helping Mrs DD o the khazi and not stealing our rucksacks.*
2045 – Arrival – Golders Green
2115 – Monument. District delayed, but one turned up. After 15 minutes. No announcements or explanations, other than letting us know that the clockwise Circle line was not running. We tried to care. And failed.
2138 – at Tower Hill, driver announced that there was no replacement bus service between Barking and East Ham because of an accident in the area which was blocking everything up. A pain, but he probably saved us a joint suicide attempt.
2148 – Fenchurch Street, C2C station. We miss the connecting train, which runs parallel to the District Line. Because of the District engineering, was set to run a limited service of half hourly, by 3 mins.
2215 – C2C leaves for Barking.
2240 – Bus replacement picks us up.
2255 – Bus replacement arrives at DaggersDukc East.
2302 - We get home.
Please note that the last time I travelled by coach, my lovely leather jacket was stolen from beneath my seat as I slept for 15 seconds. Needless to say, I was deeply upset, and 20 years later, still bear the scars, despite trauma counselling and many bottles of Holsten Pils. And the arsehole that got off between Middlesbrough and Sunderland – I hope the spirit of he cow from which the jacket was hewn rose up and throttled you with its skin as you bragged to your friends about how smart you were.
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