(no subject)
Tuesday, November 9th, 2004 12:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanI intended to start writing the weekend up sooner, but I am so tired that I just sat /lounged in front of the telly dozing in and out of programmes. I am going to write this up now and then go to bed around midnight. That's early for me - I think I need about 8 hours solid sleep.
I have spent the weekend up in the north-east for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
boroshan's wedding.
It could have got off to a better start - the weekend, not the wedding. Having spent sometime beforehand extolling the virtues of the east coast line,romney and I were faced with the fun of delay and diversion. It seems that on Friday night a goods train derailed between Darlington and York. So, no direct trains to Newcastle. The plan, get a train around 11am, and arrive in Newcastle shortly after 2pm fell apart at the first hurdle. Initially we thought we could get the 11.10 to Leeds, change and get the local dodger to York, and then change again to get a train to Newcastle.
No seats and no standing room. Fabulous. So we have to wait for the 12.10.
In a sudden flash of inspiration we se that the 12.00 to Inverness is diverted, not cancelled, so we manage to get that one. It leaves 20 minutes late because of locomotive troubles. It then diverts to Leeds and eventually stops for far too long on the Wakefield viaduct.
Wakefield may have many virtues, but the view from a train on the viaduct is not one of them.
At times the train managed to proceed with the pace of a State funeral, but we finally got to Newcastle at 4pm. Not bad, all considered, but too late to do much other than get the Metro straight toborosohan's parents' gaff. (There's a station on the line called Brockley Whins which may well become a character name in a future story).
Anyway, we were made very welcome; fed and watered and then pubbed. That went well. The pub was very packed, but we cleared an expanding perimeter by virtue of talking about Daleks and Tardises very loudly. By closing time there was more than enough sprawl room.
Headlam Hall is a very nice place to have a wedding, and the whole was aided by the rural setting and unseasonably warm weather. Unfortunately for me, the waistcoat on the hire suit was a little tight and I was worried that people might get caught in the shrapnel of flying buttons when I sat down. Still, I managed to navigate that problem through the simple virtue of spilling gravy all down the cravat which rather took the emphasis off the waistcoat.
Anyway. Some photos.
I said the waistcoat was tight; see how red it makes my head:
Mind you, makes for a nice wine waiter....
Or a bouncer (there appears to be a thin face attempting to get out from under that collection of chins)....
Of course, a wedding wouldn't be complete without an uncle demonstrating the effects of the demon drink (or is it Boy George aged 67?)...
..or a happy groom,boroshan, aka Nick Fortune, whom I have known for about 20 years
- and who, it turns out, is the cousin of one Edward Fortune, known to some of you ased_fortune. Freaky small world stuff.
We never found out if the place was haunted, since the only psychic in the party wobbled off early in an alcoholic haze. Anyway, a good time was had by all - and there are more photos, but they'd only bore you rigid, so they won't appear here.
The trip back was much better, a slightly delayed 13.06 from Darlington arriving at Kings Cross by 4pm. Much better.
A side result of the trip oop north, is that I am now the bemused owner of a poor quality copy of the never released 1994 Roger Corman production of the Fantastic Four.
This movie is splendid.
Nearly everything is wrong to just the right extent, andjimfer just has to see Doctor Doom. It takes overacting to Olympian levels. It is quite simply stunning for all the wrong reasons, and well worth 90 minutes of anybody's spare time. How it got made is a mystery. Why it was never released is not.
Marvelous.
I have spent the weekend up in the north-east for
boroshan's wedding. It could have got off to a better start - the weekend, not the wedding. Having spent sometime beforehand extolling the virtues of the east coast line,
romney and I were faced with the fun of delay and diversion. It seems that on Friday night a goods train derailed between Darlington and York. So, no direct trains to Newcastle. The plan, get a train around 11am, and arrive in Newcastle shortly after 2pm fell apart at the first hurdle. Initially we thought we could get the 11.10 to Leeds, change and get the local dodger to York, and then change again to get a train to Newcastle. No seats and no standing room. Fabulous. So we have to wait for the 12.10.
In a sudden flash of inspiration we se that the 12.00 to Inverness is diverted, not cancelled, so we manage to get that one. It leaves 20 minutes late because of locomotive troubles. It then diverts to Leeds and eventually stops for far too long on the Wakefield viaduct.
Wakefield may have many virtues, but the view from a train on the viaduct is not one of them.
At times the train managed to proceed with the pace of a State funeral, but we finally got to Newcastle at 4pm. Not bad, all considered, but too late to do much other than get the Metro straight to
borosohan's parents' gaff. (There's a station on the line called Brockley Whins which may well become a character name in a future story). Anyway, we were made very welcome; fed and watered and then pubbed. That went well. The pub was very packed, but we cleared an expanding perimeter by virtue of talking about Daleks and Tardises very loudly. By closing time there was more than enough sprawl room.
Headlam Hall is a very nice place to have a wedding, and the whole was aided by the rural setting and unseasonably warm weather. Unfortunately for me, the waistcoat on the hire suit was a little tight and I was worried that people might get caught in the shrapnel of flying buttons when I sat down. Still, I managed to navigate that problem through the simple virtue of spilling gravy all down the cravat which rather took the emphasis off the waistcoat.
Anyway. Some photos.
I said the waistcoat was tight; see how red it makes my head:
Mind you, makes for a nice wine waiter....
Or a bouncer (there appears to be a thin face attempting to get out from under that collection of chins)....
Of course, a wedding wouldn't be complete without an uncle demonstrating the effects of the demon drink (or is it Boy George aged 67?)...
..or a happy groom,
boroshan, aka Nick Fortune, whom I have known for about 20 years - and who, it turns out, is the cousin of one Edward Fortune, known to some of you as
ed_fortune. Freaky small world stuff.We never found out if the place was haunted, since the only psychic in the party wobbled off early in an alcoholic haze. Anyway, a good time was had by all - and there are more photos, but they'd only bore you rigid, so they won't appear here.
The trip back was much better, a slightly delayed 13.06 from Darlington arriving at Kings Cross by 4pm. Much better.
A side result of the trip oop north, is that I am now the bemused owner of a poor quality copy of the never released 1994 Roger Corman production of the Fantastic Four.
This movie is splendid.
Nearly everything is wrong to just the right extent, and
jimfer just has to see Doctor Doom. It takes overacting to Olympian levels. It is quite simply stunning for all the wrong reasons, and well worth 90 minutes of anybody's spare time. How it got made is a mystery. Why it was never released is not.Marvelous.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-09 12:30 am (UTC)Glad you had some good times.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-09 05:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-09 05:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-09 05:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-09 10:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-11 10:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-11-11 10:09 am (UTC)Egad
Date: 2004-11-12 06:43 am (UTC)Hadn't realized you'd be going to Chateau Fortune itself. If I'd known, I'd have suggested you go to the next street and say Wotcha to my own mater and pater.
Very much regret not being able to make it across, although given the state I was in last week I'd probably have had to take advantage of the services of the NHS, which in my case would be as much akin to "health tourism" as Midnight Express was to actual tourism.
Oh, and by the way, in the real North we don't use an expression such as "oop". That's a Southern (ie Yorkshire) affectation...
Re: Egad
Date: 2004-11-12 08:34 am (UTC)It was frightening just how much the lad looked like the cat who'd got the (year's worth of) cream.