Isle of Wight trip
Reading through the entries so far, there's quite a few stories about travel.

Mine begins on a coach on its way to the Isle of Wight. My dad used to travel to Southern League football grounds to follow his team (Corby Town FC). One of the away fixtures was at Newport, on the Isle of Wight.

Getting there meant a long coach ride from Corby followed by a ferry ride. I would sometimes tag along for the trip, as it meant a full day out doing a bit of sightseeing with the players.

To one of the youngest new players in Corby's team, this was his first ever trip away from home. The lad had recently joined the team and this was to be his first league game. He was about 15 years old and had led a bit of a sheltered life, so the other players conjured an initiation prank to welcome him into the team.

The coach arrived at the ferry port and my dad nipped off to speak to the port supervisor. After a minute or two of conversation, the supervisor made his way onto the coach donned in his official-looking yellow jacket and hat, security badge proudly on display.

"Passports please" said the official. The smirking players began producing their documents one after the other as he went down the bus, heading toward the back where the new boy was sitting with me and a couple of the other lads, looking worried.

We began nonchalantly comparing our passport photos and taking the piss out of each other as the guy made his way towards us, while the poor kid next to me whispered "I didn't bring one, I haven't got a passport!"

He was clearly terrified. The port supervisor arrived and asked for each of our passports in turn, before finally getting to the newbie.

"No passport? Dear oh dear. I'll have to call the port police. You're currently in international territory and I can't let you back onto UK mainland soil without one either, so you'll have to remain here until the passport office can process one for you. Should only take a few days..."

And with that, the port supervisor summoned port security on his walkie-talkie. The players unboarded and watched as the white-faced teenager was bundled into the back of a battered port security Ford Sierra with a flashing orange light on the top.

The car drove off and went around the block a few times before bringing him back to the players, who were waiting on the ferry, laughing mercilessly. He looked like he'd been sick, judging by the state of his club jacket. That went down well with the other lads too.

The new boy had the last laugh though - he scored twice in the game and Corby won convincingly.
( chart cat has an itch, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 13:34, Reply)