Today's blog was generously written by Toby Pringle.
Zero more sleeps, zero more days. Here we were, thronging around the poor airline staff in the check in area, ready and "absolutely fizzing" (Jack Bewley 2016) to commence our journey to glory.
Not too much needs to be said of the marathon plane journey and stopovers... Except maybe from an incident where Singapore airlines decided someone by the name "Tony Pringle" was booked in my place.
Other than this incident, (which was soon resolved you'll be pleased to hear!) there was the expected mental and emotional toll that only flying can have. As Patrick DS - our resident bass trombone tamer said; "With every sip of alcohol consumed, and every hour of sleep unslept, I could feel my bone playing deteriorating." No need to panic however, as we will most certainly be getting back to the top of our game by the end of the week.
Our hopes of arriving in Manchester to thousands of screaming fans wanting us to sign their bodies were dashed as soon as we stepped of the plane. The sky was very grey, and as is to be expected in Britain, letting fall a bleak drizzle. The brutalist customs building we entered was prison-like, and we were all desperate for a sleep in real bed. Despite being exhausted and eager to move on, we stood in customs for an hour and a half, listening to Mark Davey's inspiring voice.
We all finally made it onto the bus, hitting the road in the final stage of our journey. More drizzle, highway construction and many brick structures soon gave way to Birmingham - a city which few of us knew much about, and most didn't know what to expect. It'll be exciting exploring over the next few days!
Now as I write, speeding past Long Buckby, (which isn't very long at all!) five of us young lads are on the train to London for the weekend where we'll be cramming as much as we can into very little time!
Until next time, goodbye!