There was a gig on at the coachmakers arms last night. Rob mentioned it Monday, and I thought it sounded fun: a poetry night with folk music. It was set up by terry fox, who teaches writing here. I told my friend Chris about it via facebook; we hadn’t seen each other since graduation, and I remembered he lives in stoke so I thought it’d be good to meet up.

So we went. It was a good evening – no poetry, but some good music and great company. Chris is still the highly intelligent guy I knew: we talked about the old times, like the party at Chris and Steve’s which is now the stuff of legend. It made me long for those days – although lots of my friends came on Saturday, quite a few couldn’t make it. Like Steve and Chris.

There’s only one thing for it – a trip to Scotland.

Rob and I drove Chris back to his, before coming back ourselves. However, we passed a shop which I thought I’d like to visit, so this morning I got on the bus to Hanley. Getting there was easy, and I had a little trouble finding the shop, but it was when it came to going home that the fun started. I went back to the bus station. The first bus came – no ramp. Second bus came – no ramp. Third bus – no flipping ramp. By this time I was getting agitated. I was about to force my way on, when one of the staff came. She had arranged a bus, especially for me! They had seen my plight and got another bus. So, in the end, I was driven directly back too campus. Perhaps first busses aren’t so bad after all.