» The Worst Journey in the World

Worst Journey evAr!!!
n00b here, 1st message and all that.

I suppose my worst journey ever was when I was driving home one night and had a head on collision with a Volvo estate, resulting in a broken arm and concussion, but the worst journey with comedy happenings can be found described below.

Back in '96, I lived in Norwich and was a a proud member of the Norfolk Arsenal Supporters club. We used to travel to lots of games home and away, and one such away trip was to the town of Middlesborough. We all piled in our hired, rusty, smelly, knackered Transit mini-bus and set off on the long journey in good spirits, jesting amongst ourselves how the natives in Middlesborough had particularly flexible views on the ownership of property, that is to say, they'll nick anything that isn't nailed down - just like Scousers.

Anyway, we find somewhen near the Riverside to park, on a main road with a few other similar mini-buses parked along it, then head off to the pub and onto the match. We win the match, and everyone's in good spirits, that is until the first person stops walking and says "I though we parked it here??" Turns out some light-fingered herbert had made off with our mini-bus. Anyway, Middlesborough old bill couldn't do anything about it, so the next job was to find a way home, although as soon as the van was pronounced missing, several members buggered off to the pub, so we had to spend about an hour rounding everyone back up again.

Someone in the group buys everyone a one way train ticket to Norwich on their card, and we're on our way again.
Train gets to York - catches fire - everyone off the train. Hang around for ages, then the next train arrives and takes us to Peterborough. Trouble is, the train fire had made us late for the connecting train to Norwich. No problem, British Rail (or whoever) offers to pay for Taxis from Peterborough to Norwich. So we all pile into two aging Nissan Bluebirds, each driven by an Asian lad who didn't look a day over 14. What ensued from this point was the worst, most terrifying white knuckle car journey I have every undertaken. The entire midnight trip was taken flat out all the way, in the dark (obviously) with sidelights only and the cabbies racing each other and overtaking at every opportunity, including on blind bends, hill crests etc. We were suprised to make it back to Naaaarch in one piece, and didn't go to Boro again. Or Liverpool for that matter.

Long, wasn't it. Fank yoo.
(Tue 12th Sep 2006, 13:11, More)