Hotels from laterooms are other wonderful bargains in hotels that should cost far more than I pay, or, as in Birmingham, the kind of place that wouldn’t turn a blind eye if you turned up with a hooker and Roman Polanski.
According to Google Maps it was a 40 min walk to the hotel, I had a bit of time and decided to walk it, despite seeing so many lovely tempting taxis with their orange lights beckoning me.
I came out of New Street station, google told me I had to find Station Road. How hard could that be?
Very. I ended up walking through the shopping centre, where some x-factor/britains got talent/special school dance troupe were performing to a fairly bemused crowd.
After 25 minutes of wandering around the streets of Birmingham I found myself back outside the station. This wasn’t working. I contemplated taxis, but no, I am strong and clever and can find my way.
30 mins later I’d travelled to what I thought might be the first waypoint in my directions. My bag was getting heavy, I was cold and getting fed up.
A man saw me peering at my map, he asked if i needed any help I said yes, I was trying to find Hagley Road. He said it was easy, but then asked if he helped me if I could help him.
then the penny dropped, he was homeless, I just thought he was scruffy. Throwing caution to the wind, despite my economy drive I said yes and thrust my hand into my pocket.
Thinking ‘d go for two coins and give him whatever they were. It was a risky manoeuvre there was a lot of change in there, including some two pound coins. I pulled out the hand, there was a two pound coin and a 20p. Not a terrible result for either of us.
He took the map off me and led me down the road, giving me a guided tour of the area. This was near the chinese quarter, and because the chinese don’t have gays (honestly) the gay sector has risen up here too. I agreed like it made sense, but was more getting worried that I wasn’t going to get the map back. Somethign felt fishy, and I had the hotel details written on the map.
He took me to a main road and told me I needed to go into the subway going underneath. I’m not expert, but being taken to a subway by a tramp either meant a regrettable sexual encounter of a beating. He seemed very nice, but a subway? That was a cliche of muggings.
But it left me at a quandry. I was close to approaching that fine line of self-preservation and rudeness. If he was going to take me down there I’d have to tell him no, and i’d look like a terrible cunt.
Luckily he just pointed me there and sent me on my way, I felt like a terrible cunt and carried on my epic walk which took another half hour.
The hotel was grubby and awful, and after the gig was given a lift back there by the promoter who told me that the area was popular for prostitutes (or I’d imagine for the pimps, the prostitutes would probably prefer more aspirational housing).
I locked my hotel room door and watched Dragons Den on Tour at high volume, trying not to listen out for crack addicts being seen to.
birmingham, fun.