Mahinda’s Little World

After work, it was back into Withington/Fallowfield to pick up Kate, Jill and Laura, then up to the Reebok Stadium, Bolton, to see the mighty Coldplay. It was my first stadium gig - I’m not counting the Nynex/MEN.

We get there, after a very slow journey indeed, and eventually find a highly suspicious parking space in the back lot of a Harvester - some bloke who looked as though he might be from said Harvester guided us in, and said the car’d be fine left there.

So, I wave goodbye to my hubcaps, and head to the stadium. We just caught the last few songs from Doves, who were supporting. Not bad, but not particularly good. One of those bands that seems to have two good songs and a host of others that are simply poorer variations on them.

Coldplay were pretty good. Unfortunately, we were seated - literally - in row ZZ. Right at the back, in the middle, opposite the stage. Not a bad view, really, but I still think that’s the last time I go to a stadium gig in the seated section. It wasn’t all that far removed from watching it on TV with the bass turned up! I’m a big fan of Coldplay’s music, but the evening just left me a bit cold. I think our stand being less than half full didn’t really help.

I suppose I’m just a stand-at-the-front-and-jump-around type of gig-goer.

Noteworthy were:

• The three mentalists jumping around at the back of the standing section, dancing like loons and trying to get our stand going. About an hour of fame for them, then.
• The, quite frankly, pathetic excuse for a sausage roll that Jill purchased for the princely sum of £1.90. It looked as though someone had sat on it for an hour, and tasted like it too. I eat just about anything, but that thing was just too much.

But why do I hate Bolton?

Because it took us THREE HOURS to get home. Two hours of which were spent moving a total of about 200 yards, which actually left us further away from home than we’d started. How rubbish is that?

Here, have a look:

Basically, the police were trying to get people to follow the marked route. Which is fair enough. Except where the volumes of traffic are clearly uneven and way too high for the roads to cope with.

Fortunately, after TWO SODDING HOURS of not moving very much, I noticed that the cones had been removed, thus facilitating a much emptier route back. Which we took. The girls were fast asleep by this point, leaving me to seethe under my breath for most of the journey home.

God only knows how long it took some of the poor sods.

It was decided, with a 3:1 majority, that Bolton is officially Rubbish. Fact. Even the 1 (Kate) came round after a little discussion.

Just make sure, if you ever go there, to park somewhere decent, e.g. on the Cranfield Road side of things.