Bastards of the Rings a.k.a. My Trip to Manchester
We are alive. After tea and some sleep, we have recovered from our exhausting trip from London to Manchester. Note to self: Don't drive on the roundabouts without Dramamine.
proplus_kid, chelleangel1182, Cris (No. 1 Parker Place), MaryAnn, and I, Snewzn, the European Virgin, let out from London Thursday midday to make our way to Manchester for MOTR. After SIX (count 'em - SIX) hours of traffic and driving out in the middle of nowhere, we arrived in the LOVELY ::coughcough:: city and began to scour for the event hotel.
Apparently the four of us are incapable of manuevering on one-way streets.
Emma got grief checking in, and we were then escorted up to the room by a horrendously rude and apparently MUTE porter, who, in a show of haughtiness and discord, proceeded to slam the door to our room without even allowing me the opportunity to offer a gratuity. Whether or not this is the custom here in England (tipping doorpersons and porters of the like) I do not know. But at least I can be comforted in the fact that assholes can be found in every corner of the world.
We then collected ourselves and decided that cocktails were in order, so we scouted the area for a proper bar. We ended up down in the Portland Street bar underneath the hotel, and we were pleased to find that a)there was considerable room to settle and b) the drinks were cheap. We were soon joined by Cris' friend Ute from Germany, and lea_ysase and we proceeded to get to know each other a little. We were then accosted by a bitter Mancunian who decided to rant on about the state of the world and the upcoming American election. The conversation COULD have remained civil if he had not remarked that "more Americans should have died in 9-11 instead of MY countrymen". ::balls fists::
Not a good thing to say to Snewzn while she's drinking Jack Daniels. We left shortly thereafter, and he shook my hand with "apologies escpecially to me". Apparently somewhat of a conscience had appeared ever-so-briefly to guilt him into feeling remorse, but the moment was lost, and I made a hasty and unapologetic exit.
We made our way to Yates for dinner, where the "the fish out of water" syndrome continued. As I am someone in the hospitality/restaurant/bar business, I have certain expectations about service and how people are to be taken care of when they are in my establishment. It seems as though the servers and bartenders here make a considerably higher wage per hour than they do in the States. But I have yet, since I arrived, been waited on with courtesy or even a shred of guest appreciation. At both places, I have to go up to the bar to get the drinks, and I had to go up to the bar to order FOOD. That's crazy. Just crazy. Having said that, the food was pretty good, and the Jack was even better. :)
Upon returning to the hotel, we took a little more time to observe our surroundings and what was in store for the weekend. And this is where we find ourselves in Dante's Fifth Ring of Hell...
proplus_kid, chelleangel1182, Cris (No. 1 Parker Place), MaryAnn, and I, Snewzn, the European Virgin, let out from London Thursday midday to make our way to Manchester for MOTR. After SIX (count 'em - SIX) hours of traffic and driving out in the middle of nowhere, we arrived in the LOVELY ::coughcough:: city and began to scour for the event hotel.
Apparently the four of us are incapable of manuevering on one-way streets.
Emma got grief checking in, and we were then escorted up to the room by a horrendously rude and apparently MUTE porter, who, in a show of haughtiness and discord, proceeded to slam the door to our room without even allowing me the opportunity to offer a gratuity. Whether or not this is the custom here in England (tipping doorpersons and porters of the like) I do not know. But at least I can be comforted in the fact that assholes can be found in every corner of the world.
We then collected ourselves and decided that cocktails were in order, so we scouted the area for a proper bar. We ended up down in the Portland Street bar underneath the hotel, and we were pleased to find that a)there was considerable room to settle and b) the drinks were cheap. We were soon joined by Cris' friend Ute from Germany, and lea_ysase and we proceeded to get to know each other a little. We were then accosted by a bitter Mancunian who decided to rant on about the state of the world and the upcoming American election. The conversation COULD have remained civil if he had not remarked that "more Americans should have died in 9-11 instead of MY countrymen". ::balls fists::
Not a good thing to say to Snewzn while she's drinking Jack Daniels. We left shortly thereafter, and he shook my hand with "apologies escpecially to me". Apparently somewhat of a conscience had appeared ever-so-briefly to guilt him into feeling remorse, but the moment was lost, and I made a hasty and unapologetic exit.
We made our way to Yates for dinner, where the "the fish out of water" syndrome continued. As I am someone in the hospitality/restaurant/bar business, I have certain expectations about service and how people are to be taken care of when they are in my establishment. It seems as though the servers and bartenders here make a considerably higher wage per hour than they do in the States. But I have yet, since I arrived, been waited on with courtesy or even a shred of guest appreciation. At both places, I have to go up to the bar to get the drinks, and I had to go up to the bar to order FOOD. That's crazy. Just crazy. Having said that, the food was pretty good, and the Jack was even better. :)
Upon returning to the hotel, we took a little more time to observe our surroundings and what was in store for the weekend. And this is where we find ourselves in Dante's Fifth Ring of Hell...