Sent to Coventry

And so I return to my hometown Coventry for the Easter break. It feels different this time though, maybe because I don’t have the option of texting anyone, maybe because I was in the house for half an hour before being whisked to Taylor John’s; Coventry’s premier music venue.

After huge swathes of panic and stress my Blackberry eventually arrived (half an hour before my train did) and I got round to setting it up in a manner of complete unknowingness. I still only have a couple of numbers, and the number I have for myself will last until Tuesday, meaning I’m a hard man to contact right now.

The main stress and panic however came in the form of writing down the wrong reference number for my train, and with a phone with no numbers in, and no internet, I was left stranded at the station, wondering what to do as my 2.35 train to East Midlands Parkway swept past. 

A quick visit to the library soon sorted things out, although the weight of my case was starting to create issues with my spine. I’m sure I’ve never felt so old in my life.

And so, with the same old depressing three hour journey I’m back in Coventry. A fun night was had watching some of the city’s most exciting bands, including an incredible blues band that I annoyingly keep forgetting the name to. 

Old habits certainly don’t die hard; I got back quite drunk, made myself a sandwich, grabbed myself a pint of milk, and sat down watching documentaries in the front room with my trusty cat Molly. 

Good to be home.

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