Brothers in arms

 A thermos full of tea plus a compendium of tabloid crosswords, and it was off we go on a weekend adventure in the enclaves of Southern Cumbria. 

This was to be another time for enjoyment as me and my brother Rion basically be teenagers again, even if it means for only a couple of days. The wenches can stay at home and grouse at the very thought of their partners actually having a laugh for once. But of course our intelligence will return home with us, explaining to respected concubines that it would have been much better if they had  come along and chaperoned us. These entire Flibbertigibbets’s will be stored up and saved for when we return home to Birmingham on monday. But for now, let’s raise a lot of glasses in the bars and clubs of South Lakeland.

As much as we would have loved a few cans of Uncle Budweisers on the trains up to Cumbria, it was really out of the question. Turning up at reception slurring unlawful comments at the refined young lasses would not have been in character with my fine and respected self. Rion on the other hand is ten years my junior, and is still high in the testosterones of youth. After a few light ales, his eyes become magnetism to the female liberal cleavage. But I am not going to dog collar him about on this trip; I shall let him go blind in the same way that I did.

After a successful exchange of trains at Manchester, we pulled into Preston and rushed to the departure board, only to find that the Barrow-in-Furness bound train was not even on any of the three pages showing. This meant that we would have to wait for at least an hour before the next one would arrive. This gave us plenty of time to venture into the city and find us a bite to eat, as we were really famished.

“I don’t know about you, but I fancy a KFC”.

This suggestion of mine was met with licking lips from Rion when low and behold, not thirty steps ahead of us was the sign of the chicken giants standing proud for all to see. I was prepared to go gung-ho with the order of a £9.99p bargain bucket which should set us up nicely for coming day, settling our hungry bellies for a few beers later. But the queue resembled that of a ticket line for a Take That concert and so we decided to look out for a McDonald’s outlet instead, but after a couple of minutes of searching, we gave up.

Rion mentioned that we had past a pastry parlour a few minutes earlier, and so we changed our menu to a couple of pies and a cream cake. We took the food and sat on a concrete wall outside the station which was adjacent to the entrance to of the indoor market. Through the glass doors we could see the sign for McDonald’s, and we both thought simultaneously, "What a shitter".

Unable to get comfortable, we moved onto a platform bench where we unwrapped our pies. We had a steak & ale pie and a cream cake each. Rion also had a Lancashire pasty, as he had more of a hunger than I

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.02.2014
ISBN: 978-3-7368-4630-2

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Widmung:
Thanks to my youngest brother Rion for tagging along on a trip that entailed a lot of walking, hill climbing, and avoiding being killed by a train.