The journey up on South West Trains was fine, despite having driven down to the station, found the car park completely full, and driven home again before walking back to the station (I’d allowed time for such an eventuality), and having then been rooked £5.20 for a bacon bap and coffee at the station café. A transfer from Waterloo Station to the adjacent bus station was accomplished without getting lost, and the driver of the 139 seemed totally disinterested in my brand-new Dorset Concessionary Bus Pass. 
Over Waterloo bridge and left into the Strand, which was a virtually at a standstill. I could have walked the length of it quicker. In fact the wretched pigeons were walking it quicker.
Eventually circumnavigated Charing Cross and up Regent Street to Piccadilly, the objet d’exercise being to meet Mrs O, Master O and fiancée, and the prospective in-laws at Fortnum and Masons for a “taster tea”, as that’s where they hope to have their reception. With an hour to kill, the first thing I noticed strolling down Piccadilly was a junkie slumped in a doorway, bare feet, two trails of urine across the pavement to the gutter. People were just stepping past him. Two blocks down, De Beers, with a set of 5 diamond rings in the window for £81,000; the next display a diamond pendant for £41,000. Sorry, but this sort of thing brings out all my long-standing anti-capitalist instincts. Wandered into the Geological Institute hoping to view a display or a collection, but never made it farther than Reception, and was politely thrown out as I wasn’t a Fellow. So, to the Royal Academy of Arts next door and an exhibition entitled “The Russian Revolution 1917-1932”. Fine! Then ascertained admission was £15; they were obviously money-laundering for the Russian Mafia. But Ossie did hit the shop .... and there purchased a Communist Red Star pin badge. 
Yuppie behind the counter:
“Do you want a bag for that, Sir?”
“No thanks – I’m going to pin it on my lapel!”
“Oh! Really? Errrr … you will tell people where you bought it, won’t you?”
(He probably thought I was Momentum and he’d get 15,000 orders …
)“Yes, of course I will” says Ossie, giving him a Socialist Workers Solidary clenched-fist salute ….
Prominently displaying the Red Star, the Ostrich marched down to Green Park, scattering capitalists in his wake, and snarling at a cyclist who went for the same narrow space between two cars as the bird. A pleasant time was then spent sunning itself on a bench in the park, and if you think I dress ludicrously, you need to see the joggers …..
Now mobile phones are all right and reasonably useful, but you do need to switch them on occasionally, I find. Otherwise, you will not be in the loop! When none of the assembled party had actually assembled (apart from me) by the appointed time of 2:00, I made my way up to the top floor of F&M, where enquiries at reception indicated the tea had been booked for 3:00. Not wishing to hang around the Metropolis for any longer than necessary, and completely undaunted, the Ostrich suggested to them they’d made a mistake
and they happily said they’d fit us all in as soon as they could. Went back outside and I eventually ran into Master O who said they’d left text messages for me all morning that the time had been put back. I had had no idea. “No matter,” beamed Ossie, “I’ve sorted it!”. “What have you done now,” groaned Mrs O.
I must say F&M and their staff were excellent, welcoming and hospitable, and completely unfazed by the curveball I’d tossed them. I would recommend their afternoon teas if you’re up there. OK, London prices, but you couldn’t fault them. We had a look at the room the reception would be held in and it seemed fine. In-laws very pleasant, although he looked like a Glaswegian who’d never encountered an Ostrich before
, and I could have done with Suff as an interpreter. Ossie made short work of the finger sandwiches … Back on the 139 for the 17:20 train out of Waterloo, and arrival at Gillingham on time at 19:17. “Ah, the reserves kick off in 30 minutes, OK if I go up to the ground and you walk home with the bags,” enquires the Ostrich. Mrs O’s reply is not printable.
“Um, we’ll get a taxi then” concedes the bird – and in the event, the reserves game was called off anyway, waterlogged pitch.Which neatly brings us to today’s fixture at Wells RFC – on arrival I was told that part of the pitch had been waterlogged for most of last week but a couple of gloriously warm Spring days and a bit of drainage work had salvaged the game against the Bristol club Whitehall RFC. Even so, the pitch looked pretty rough in places. Wells are mid-table, Whitehall are already relegated. I mentioned last week about the RFU Cups – Wells actually went all the way and won the Senior Vase at Twickenham back in 2012, defeating Yorkshire club Wath-upon-Dearne RFC 31-22. Wells’ small ground is in the city’s western suburbs, next to a rather imposing Leisure and Fitness Centre, and comprises just two pitches. The clubhouse was functional, nothing special; the kitchen wasn’t doing hatch food as there was a club dinner on.
Perusing the programme, I thought “that name’s familiar …
” – the referee was Tony Spreadbury, no less; 55 years old now, former international referee, in charge of games at both the 2003 and 2007 World Cups, and currently Head of Professional Game Match Officials at the RFU. Obviously slumming it today and keeping his hand in! Genial guy, brooked no nonsense from the players (nor the crowd! ) and every decision given with an explanation and a smile. The match itself was not particularly scintillating; Wells merely bludgeoned down the middle, whilst Whitehall were just happy to put in relieving kicks upfield. The result was never particularly in doubt, although there was an interesting patch midway through the second half where Wells were in danger of losing the plot, and one wondered whether Whitehall might just pull themselves back into contention, but it wasn’t to be. Not a game that will live in the memory.Tribute Western Counties North League (Level 7): Wells RFC 20 Whitehall RFC 10
Admission with programme £3, apple J2O, packet of salted peanuts and Mars Bar in the bar £3.45, attendance 94.
