Two angry camels travel to...Swindon | Gillingham FC, Football

This is the second chapter in an attempt to add a touch of humour to our travelling fortunes, whilst following The Gills in our 2013/14 league one campaign. Much aligned with an idiot abroad.

We are not really angry, probably better described as two grumpy old men just sharing the following of their team win, lose or draw.

For this trip we were minus our Northern Elite posse, somewhere last seen travelling across the Arabian Desert...http://www.not606.com/showthread.ph...amels-travel-to-Wolves-Gillingham-FC-Football

One of that posse BSG, was last seen tweeting something about Jack, at first I thought this was some new name calling ritual, then I realised he did not like travelling across the Wiltshire plains on his own.

No surprise really, The Gills and Swindon have had some infamous rivalry going back since the late 70’s early 80’s, I remember that era well and a particular visit to the County Ground back then. Which could be best described like some Mexican standoff during the old days of terracing.

Mind you the trip across to the border was not an easy one, with the usual mass migration West this time of season.

One of the travellers was starting to get grumpy as his storage supplies in his hump were low and was showing signs of limpness after such a troubled journey.

Eventually we managed to reach some urban town extension, which consisted of dwellings and more dwellings and well emptiness, the very first sign of life was some local native spotted in the distance wearing some red attire. I kid you not.

The two camels carefully strode in to this town with their fistful of dollars as if in some spaghetti western movie, Per un pugno di dollari. You certainly needed the dollars for this match at a cost of $25 before a die was even thrown in the game.

We slowly proceeded past all these urban dwellings with floodlights guiding us in the distance. Just before reaching our destination we came to some mystical magic roundabout. Marked by an inner circle and five outer circles, but this was not some prehistoric rock gathering like Stonehenge or even crop circles. If you attempted to hold the summer solstice here you would probably become trampled under the maddening confusion.

Then we came to the long and straight narrow road on the right leading us in to the County Ground, with the local Sheriff’s watching our movements forward while bandits were seen waiting with staring eyes. Were these thoughts of past encounters or just a gaze of curiosity? You would certainly be well advised to not go astray around this town.

On entering in this dusty narrow landscape, one of the cowboys not much of a sharp shooter but dressed in the familiar fearful yellow jacket insisted on $20 before allowing our Gillingham FC posse to precede any further to a section that separated locals from travellers.

We was allowed to pass and immediately pulled up right outside Bar 71, aptly named because there are 71 other clubs in the league. How convenient and exclusive for distant visitors. The doorman demanded ID on entry via producing our tickets for the later arena. Quite why we did not know, as we were clearly dressed in blue battle colours and had just dismounted right outside!

On entry to the saloon bar there was a weird quietness about the area. Spacious but white walled and naked apart from a large screen and a huge black and white picture of a packed Swindon crowd. The bar was certainly missing some sawdust on the floor and a bit of atmosphere. Had we by mistake entered the Wild West’s version of a funeral parlour.

There seemed to be some strange serving of a drink that appeared to be a raspberry cider, crikey and I was worried about wearing my poncho! We obviously settled for the pretentious manly other stuff called lager as we could not see any real ale on tap...can’t remember if it was Carling or Carlsberg Extra Cold. Plastic cups - Arrrgh.

We reminisced about the old days of Brian Yeo before making our way into the stadium.

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The away supporters were seated in a large very well covered stand, where seating although appearing worn was apparently unallocated. The Gillingham travelling faithful were lower in number than previous away days but were in loud voice. Whereas the Swindon section next to us and that of the home Town End seemed somewhat sterile, saddening to see once again the affect of plastic on the modern game. Something really has to change. The only time I heard the call of the robins was after their first goal and not again later until the second half.

Clearly in evidence was the local sheriff deputies, something of an over kill, although tucked quietly down in the lower corner with their ever watchful eyes.

The game itself, well this called for a Clint Eastwood style moment as two teams waited to be drawn at dawn as the man with no name produces his pocket watch. When the chimes end the draw will commence. Final Score 2-2.

As the bounty hunting camels leave with a valuable point, Cody is still in mind demonstrating with gestures his pleasure of scoring for his badge, whilst Kedwell’s headed flick on had earlier nestled into the back of the net.

So now homeward bound we retreated safely on in readiness for our next journey. Although the safety of stewards had to be questioned who hindered our exit. They was clearly playing some game of chicken, how close can you walk in front of and guide a coach before getting run over.

We then got up a gallop and never looked back.

Look out for our next away adventure as the two angry camels travel to South America and Brazil for our World Cup Final in a couple of week’s time against Crawley Town...

 

... no not as in the style of the Village People - but to the delights of Swindon ( I'm sure it should be spelt with an E after the letter N )
The reference to the Village People could be more appropriate - as the fans from Gillingham were quick to give their assessment of the attributes of this little town - " Full of inbreds & roundabouts " - not my words - and they didn't appear in the local tourist board brochure.
There were to be only 452 fans from Gillingham on this day. I am sure that this being only a third of the numbers that travelled to Wolves two weeks ago was because very few people can actually 'enter' Swindon. The rest are lost on a perpetual orbit of the roundabouts in the town.The roundabout nearest to the ground has 4 roundabouts which are like satellites around a central black hole. I am pretty sure that the locals have never passed a driving test - they wouldn't be able to negotiate this roundabout without having a nervous breakdown - although if you care to wait a while at this roundabout - to watch a passing Learner car, you will discover a sound unique to the tribe of Swindon - a loud shriek that I think is their mating call as the driver suffers some sort of seizure upon encountering these 4 men of the Apocalypse. Naturally Swindon is never visited by foreign tourists - they do not know that a town exists inside these magical merry go rounds. If you are (un)lucky enough to find a vortex that can propel you into this western hotspot, you are presented with the problem relating to the towns' 2nd attribute - nobody can get out - so no wonder their is a scarcity of 'mate' who is not related to you, but then I know of parts of Kent where people look like each other ( & their dogs. )
When the our coach finally arrived at the County Ground there was an immediate presence of Police & Steward 'overkill' - although it did seem that the stewards had some sort of Death Wish - insisting on walking directly in front of the coach to guide it to its resting place. This was a welcome relief. There were times along the M25 - with the horrendous traffic jams, that this camel remarked that it would have indeed been quicker to have travelled by camel - it was painfully slow. When this fixture was announced to be on August bank holiday, it brought back the nightmare of a trip to similar parts - Bournemouth - also on a bank holiday weekend when the camels didn't arrive until almost half time........ anyway - there was nothing that could be done - but our driver had assured us that we had left Gillingham a little earlier to allow for the expected delay - but this did little to quench the raging thirst that began to develop on the journey - so when the coach finally stopped there was a stampede to the nearest oasis. This turned out to be the less than exotic Bar 71. This was as lifeless as a desert - and could have done with some sand on the floor just to give the place some ambience.
At least we were able to take in liquid - although there appears to be a couple of local concocutions on offer at the bar - that I negotiated with greater ease than the roundabouts in the area. I do not put blue coloured liquids down my throat !
And so to the game - Swindon had more of the possession ( which you would expect from a home team ) - but the Gills seem to be finding their feet in L1. Their good allround performance against Brentford the previous week, was taken into this game. The Gills deserved their point - and had excellent chances to add to their goal tally ( this drought finally coming to an end ) - Indeed, despite Kedwell scoring with a neat backward header for the first equaliser, he missed a 'sitter' - one that could have been scored by any camel. The game was fairly even - especially in the 2nd half - although Swindon retook the lead through a rare mistake in the Gills defence. The following fans from the East began chanting for the introduction of the Messiah, and were eventually granted their wish. The genie of the team fulfilled their wishes - taking a ball inside the Swindon penalty area, turning his marker inside out before slotting low into the left corner of the goal - then milking the adulation of the 452 Gills fans that had actually managed to find the ground.
So many other camels went home happy - although our driver was in such a hurry to put as much distance between our coach and Swindon, that he did not stop to take in water on the journey home. I am sure he thought he might just get sucked back into one of those ridiculous roundabouts. This wont be a problem on our next venture - the camels will go to Crawley in a couple of weeks time - but will self navigate - no satnav - just following the Sun -but for now the camels can be put to bed.

edit - can I just say that I created my post before brb busted the threads ( jealouscamel )

 

Sorry about the earlier problems alwaysright. I busted my original thread, for it to be gone forever and had to rebuild it with this one.

 

You're only grovelling because you think that I might leave you on the M25 in a couple of weeks. (don't get out if we stop for water ). I know the real reason why you messed up - you was embarrassed at the brilliance of my post ( almost Tescoesque ) - well I will let you show me that you are learning from the master when we go to Crawley.
If your self esteem was so low as to delete my thread, you should ask me for my educational package that includes humility as well as pomposity. Naturally I don't do self loathing, but excel in supersilliousness - just ask the oracle - I said oracle - not orifice.

 

LOL...I tried to merge but broke everything...took me ages to sort. Recover your post...completely rebuild the thread, replace some links...it was like an afternoon spent on that blooming magic roundabout.

 

Poshminx
That's me in the picture ( I don't mean the hot looking girl ) - she wouldn't leave me alone and I ended up spilling my beer on her neck - and I wasn't going to waste it, and she insisted that I used my tongue.










ok- that's what would happen in my dreams