Brum. What about it?
Am in Birmingham with the People’s Vote crew to protest at the Tory Party conference. The latter clusterfuckers have already shat themselves with their conference app that has given out the phone numbers and emails and more of all the MPs and journalists et al to do with the conference. Motherload data breach by the motherfuckers.
I’m here with 10 others from Newcastle and Darlington, a nice crew they seem, half male, female, from 19 years old to 50s. The young ‘un is doing a BTEC or the like in tourism – but Brexit hasn’t figured in the course, and she says she’s the only one in the room with any apparent awareness of its potential implications – everything from visa buggering about to a shot Pound (if not the ability to withdraw cash abroad) that’ll stop Brits going to Europe anyway – if they have a job, if there are planes flying – and so on. Even the tutors are like, ‘nah, let’s talk about something else.’
Holy clusterfucks, folks.
Our happy group, from Jesmond by minibus to here, are esconced in a bizarre, sprawling motel, my room is a double but it’s a maisonette, although there’s no window (it’s a large mirror in what was likely the window alcove) but there’s a window to the corridor. A TV with no remote. Creaky floorboards. A working fireplace … and yeah, the bathroom’s downstairs. I thought there was another room down there and some one would be sharing the room. The very chatty man in the Indian next door says it’s haunted, on top of being the shittest hotel in the UK. The camp chap at reception I suspect hears nothing else, all day, every day. I think it’s going to be one of those places that would normally get only 1 star on Tripadvisor but will be suspiciously bulked by 5 stars from stags and hens who don’t give a toss and just want a place to get shitfaced with impunity.
It was a very nice meal, though, bar the chap with no table manners – coughing without covering his mouth, eating with his mouth open, elbows high … the other thing is interesting, I’m obviously not drinking, but forget what it’s like being with folk who do, and it does become, you’re in the groove of the conversation, or not. They are lovely inclusive people! – but two or three beers in and I feel I’m somewhat in orbit.