Travel: People, places and old pals, but now it’s back to Adelaide sunshine

The blog is back. There were no times for updates on the recent manic solo trip back to the homeland for a fortnight’s holiday seeing my mum and mates. It was not the sort of tranquil break akin to lying on a Thai beach. Though I can do that too, but this was go, go, go. It was all about seeing people. The BritRail pass took a hammering on various trips between London and Lancashire. Two sun-kissed cricketing days at Old Trafford and Chelmsford were interspersed with three surprisingly heartening displays from Blackburn Rovers on the sporting front. Pete Wilson, the Sunday Times legend, and his band of Surrey travellers checked into Salford Quays for the week. So me and Phil Poole, soon to be a house guest of ours in Adelaide, were happy to join ’em for day two of the top of the table clash. Alas, Surrey were in the ascendancy for the most part and ended up with the draw they probably knew they needed to keep the title out of our grasp. A good day though with constant visits to Wetherspoons on Chester Road. That chain of pubs is fast becoming an English institution in my eyes. The range of beers at dirt cheap prices is astonishing. And the food is just as good value. Me and Phil struck lucky with “steak day” on the Wednesday. No wonder you never see an empty Wetherspoons. On one of my southern soujourns, the St Albans version did a breakfast for a price that put the posh eateries of The Parade in Adelaide’s Norwood to shame. Ah, the joys of life in a holdall. St Albans was my southern base. Or rather just outside at Ivan and Olive Hickmott’s place in the nearby village of Redbourn, where I have been welcomed ever since Ivan and Olive moved in 30-odd years ago. St Albans is well worth a look for UK travellers. The speedy Thameslink train will have you there in no time from London’s Kings Cross. It’s a market town with a buzz. The Romans got there before me long ago and decided to set up camp there. It’s also a good place to do the travelling chores away from the hustle and hassle of London. In the case of follically challenged me, it means a haircut. I love my no-frills baldy look but it needs constant cropping, otherwise you can look a prat. Back here in Adelaide, Gabs takes care of that, or as I call her when she dons the clippers, “the artiste Gabrielle.” I’ve never really liked blokes’ barbers shops. But luckily three years ago, back working in London for three summer months on the Daily Mail and Daily Telegraph, I stumbled upon Lerraine Rand’s place in St Albans. That formally is called the Village Stylists on The Arcade, 7 High Street St Albans. It’s bright, airy and neat, a far cry from some of the tiny dumps in London which I’ve been sometimes been forced to use. Some of them look as though they could have housed Sweeney Todd, the fictional Demon barber of London in earlier times. I would much rather have my hair done having a chat to Lerraine or her assistant Suzanne that some gruff, grumpy Greek with a paunch in a Holloway Road dive who grunts the odd monosyllable now and then. On leaving Lerraine’s, there is a quaint tea shop called Abigails’s Tea Rooms, I think, at the end of the chic alley if you are into that sort of thing. Or if like me, you need an ale or two, the Boot or the Peahen are just around the corner in opposite directions. There are no shortage of pubs in St Albans. Walk further up and I recommend the Blacksmiths. After all this, there was just time for the second cricketing day out at Chelmsford with star turns Gareth Williams, Pete ‘Baino’ Bainbridge and Gordon Wright, from my Telegraph days. More sunshine, more ales and another Lancashire draw. So, second spot it was for us. Then to Heathrow for me. I have done the UK-Oz flight countless times but it can still knock you around. But one of the bonuses of travelling is the joy of the unexpected. Sat at the bar in Kuala Lumpur waiting for my connecting flight, I was ready for KL to turn into K-Hell. If time dragged too much I was gonna be forced to take 50 Shades of Grey out of my bag to read. I bought the book for Gabs as a joke. It is so awfully written that once you pick it up, you want to put it down. Then I started talking to a stranger whose name was Anna Smith. Anna turned out to be a Kiwi nurse who worked at the Royal Adelaide Hospital and was going to Adelaide like me. And she worked with one of Gabs ’friends, Chris Page, at the RAH. It’s a small world. But it’s a fact that as soon as you have the craic with good conversation, even the most rip-off priced drinks suddenly don’t seem that unreasonable. You have to spend the daft currency anyway. So it was a fine end to a hectic break. But now it’s all about sunshine in Adelaide. There should be plenty on the sporting agenda to keep everyone tuned, starting with the AFL grand final between Hawthorn and West Coast Eagles on Saturday. It’s gonna be fun just trying to work out which pub to watch the game in. Bring it on…

Live sport in UK offers differing fortunes for Lancashire and Blackburn Rovers

With the Ashes out of the way and safely back in English hands, it’s time to look ahead to what is in store on the sporting agenda. From a personal point of view, it would have been good to see England win the final Test at The Oval to earn a 4-1 margin for the series. It was not to be as Australia pulled off another lop-sided success in a topsy-turvy clutch of clashes. The one-day encounters now take centre-stage but it’s hard not to think that the main business has been concluded. I touch down on English soil for a lightning trip to the homeland next week and my cricketing focus will be set on the conclusion of the county season. That means a couple of trips to see what the campaign will bring for Lancashire. The Red Rose crew have already lifted the Twenty 20 trophy on finals day at Edgbaston. Now they need to hopefully seal promotion in the serious stuff – instant elevation from Division Two. They could have it all sorted before I touch down at Heathrow as they take on Kent at Canterbury this week. If that goes to plan, the home game against Surrey at Old Trafford could become a virtual title decider. My mate Pete Wilson’s mob have been stalking Lanky for some months and the meeting in Manchester looks intriguing – weather permitting. The English cricket season seems to go deeper into autumn each year so we have to hope for some “Indian summer” sunshine. Pete will be making his way north and hopefully the watching contingent just down from the Wetherspoons pub on Chester Road will include ex-Telegraph colleague Dave Keenan and Rossendale Valley cricketing guru Jim Chadwick. After that, the final game of the season will be in Chelmsford when Lancs take on Essex. Again I’m looking forward to former Telegraph mates such as Gordon Wright and Gareth Williams joining the throng. If things are looking potentially rosy on the cricket-viewing front, it’s not so promising from the football point of view. Blackburn Rovers are winless after five games and mired towards the foot of the Championship table. I was able to see just how dire things have become when the home game with Bolton Wanderers was beamed live to Aussie shores last weekend. The goalless stalemate made grim viewing but it was about all the game deserved. A paltry crowd of just more than 14,000 bothered to turn up for such a drab affair. The commentator summed things up perfectly when he mentioned that these two teams were playing each other in the Premier League not too long ago. Back then, he added the stadium would have been virtually full for such a Lancashire derby. That all seems a long time ago. The hapless Indian interlopers who now own us have presided over a decline of stunning ineptitude. I am just praying for survival this season. That’s not being over-dramatic. I wonder if the Indian clowns realise that relegation is possible from the Championship as they thought we were a protected species in the Premier League when they began their ill-fated tenure. For my watching pleasure, I will witness two London games – at Fulham, then QPR. After that, it’s more capital opposition when Charlton Athletic visit Ewood. Is it too much to expect a win from one of those matches? I don’t care if it’s not pretty to watch, just three points from somewhere will do. The Fulham game has been switched to midday so it may have to be a refreshing cider on the train from St Albans with fellow long-suffering loyalist Ivan Hickmott. At least we will have plenty of time to mull over events in the pubs by the Thames afterwards. Live sport. It has to be done. Heathrow here I come.