I never thought I would see my favourite band Blink-182, an American rock band from the 90s, especially after I missed them at Leeds Festival recently, which was the closest they came to headlining in my hometown of Hull. However, I discovered they had two more shows in the UK, but they were both in Glasgow, a long trip from Hull.
Nonetheless, out of curiosity and with little hope of buying them, I looked on Ticketmaster to see if they had any tickets left and to my surprise they did. I checked the train times, which were running all day, and this wish of mine was becoming more of a reality. With the band based mainly in the US, I could not miss my chance.
I am not yet 16, but, encouraged by Kirsty Allsopp’s son’s interrailing adventures in Europe, I wondered how hard it could be. I had never been out of Hull on my own and had never changed trains on my own but, as it turned out, it was not that hard. I only had to get to Scotland, negotiate four trains, and run the risk of one at least one of these being affected by strike action. Oh, and one of these trains was the last one out of Glasgow to Edinburgh and then, after a long wait, on to Hull. If I missed that it was curtains and, as you have to be over 18 to check in to a hotel belonging to a major chain, I had no hope of finding a warm bed.
The next step was to persuade my mum to give me permission to go up and see them, which she happily did as it was an early birthday present. I then asked my Grandad (a regular contributor these pages) to book the trains, which he happily did while I booked the tickets for the concert. Grandma, however, was not happy. With the tickets secured, it was now ‘Operation don’t-make-a-cock-up-of-it’.
I downloaded detailed floor plans of each station, which included how to get to the platforms and the timings of my departures. The journey up was not problematic, with one change in Manchester, but the way back was more complicated: I had to get the last train to Edinburgh Waverley at midnight and then find somewhere to wait nearby, Waverley being closed till 4am. My grandparents, who have lived in Scotland, said this was not the best place to loiter. I could come back with a criminal record and no belongings. Grandma was still not happy.
The first option was the waiting rooms, but they too were closed til 4am, and the second was sitting in McDonald’s til 3am, which would have given me an hour to wait until the station opened. Despite Grandma still not being happy, this became my plan, until the morning of my departure when one of my Grandad’s friends got wind of my plans and got in touch and arranged to pick me up and allow me to stay at his house until my train at 5.48am. Grandma slightly happier now.
Happily, the trains up to Glasgow were all on time, albeit with a 15-minute delay, but this was to Glasgow Central anyway, so I didn’t have to worry about missing my next train. Part one of the adventure was accomplished. I now had to find a place to eat; the local Wetherspoons beckoned.
The next potential set-back was discovering the age limit for the concert: the minimum age was 14, but under-16s had to be accompanied by an adult. This is where I could see an awful turning point and if I didn’t get in, the whole journey would have been a waste of time (but possibly a funnier article!). I had to resort to one of the oldest tricks in the book: do not shave, do not look nervous while queueing, act like you’re mingling with a group of adults, and wear something that makes you look grown up.
I made my way to the OVO Hydro arena, which I found with Google Maps, and started queuing. There were plenty of people who looked a similar age to me, some even younger, so I was reasonably confident heading towards the door. A quick search, with no questions asked and I was in: mission accomplished. My seat was high up with a great view and the support act, The Story So Far, was not on for too long. The changeover took almost an hour, but once Blink-182 came out it was the most incredible and entertaining thing I have watched; worth every penny and all the hassle.
The show finished at exactly 22.15, so this gave me enough time to get to Queens Street Station, where I was able to board an earlier train than I expected, which got me to Waverley Station, where my Grandad’s friend picked me up. I had a few hours’ sleep, had some grub and headed to the station, where my train was waiting for me on time.
The mission was complete and with a change in York, where it’s hard to miss a train to Hull, I was back home, unscathed; with a brilliant experience and a memory I will treasure forever. Not quite interrailing in Europe, but I have learned a lot and I’m happy to report that Grandma is, now, also happy.
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Lovely story, well done!
Seconded.
I was siding firmly with your Grandma the whole time, especially the bit about you forced to wait between connections in a desolate train station in the wee hours to catch a dawn train. Been there, done that, ticket office closed, cafes closed, railway officials gone home, no money for a hotel, pestered by a collection of drunks and druggies in Spain, as I sat very determinedly reading a book and trying to look as fierce as possible, while staying wide awake, which seemed to put them all off. I do not recommend it.
I’m so glad your Grandad quietly got in touch with his friend up north, to make your Grandma a bit happier. I’m sure they were all on tenterhooks until you were safely home again. I was, just reading it!
I hasten to add that I wasn’t a teenager, but middle-aged, and it was still scary!
So well done to you— you show great promise as a writer, Jack Watson.
When I was 16, I hitch-hiked from Scotland through England, France, Germany, Greece to Turkey, then hitch-hiked back through Roumania and a bunch of other countries back to Scotland. But I guess those were different times.
No mobile phones to keep in touch and help sort any unplanned events.
Great piece Jack. Your parents trusted you visiting my home town to see your favourite band. They were right. The obverse of the trend towards ‘adulting” children is the infantilisation of young people more than capable of looking after themselves.
Age 6, I daily comutted ‘solo’ from Parsons Green (Fulham) to South Ken to school. In uniform, with satchel! Felt so grown up.. but couldnt reach the straps to be a ‘strap-hanger’.
1962.. different world.
Also, 1976, hitch-hiked across Fr, Sp, It, Gr with no money.. relying on oddjobs and generosity of strangers, for 6 months. Not brave enough to try Turkey…
Age 20, do no big deal really..
When I was 15 I made a solo trip from London to Paris and back to meet the family of an exchange student who had spent time with us on a school trip. I was nervous, yes, but survived and I still remember it fondly nearly 50 years later
“I am not yet 16, but, encouraged by Kirsty Allsopp’s son’s interrailing adventures in Europe, I wondered how hard it could be. I had never been out of Hull on my own and had never changed trains on my own ”
——–
Well done and I’m glad you achieved your aim.
But as a recently-retired female, I find your story rather sad and an example of the infantilisation and coddling of young people which does nothing to build their confidence.
I was brought up in NE Kent, on the borders of London. During the school holidays, when I was age 12, my father (a MET policeman) came home with two Red Rover bus tickets and a bus map of London so I and a friend could spend the day riding the buses up to central London and back. He showed me the three buses we’d need to catch to get to Oxford St.
In turn, when my eldest son was 13 and wanted to go to London with a couple of friends I sat him down, made sure he could read the underground map, and let him go.
At age almost 16, a young person is only two years away from being officially declared an adult. If they’ve never left their home town and travelled alone anywhere they are not being properly prepared for adulthood.
Cities of Europe – London: We Live by the River – BBC iPlayer This is on the BBC archive – 2 boys on the buses in London. Unbelievable that this would happen now. Note how well the adults treat them.
Your post is unjust. You are conveniently forgetting that all countries of the West have been INVADED by millions of Muslim Men of Military Age and often criminal backgrounds who have wreaked havoc amongst our children and teenagers.
You cannot compare your situation half a century ago, or your son’s, with the dangers facing children today.
Things are NOT THE SAME.
All the more reason for them to learn to navigate their surroundings and further afield …. because at age (almost) 16 in just 2 years time they’ll be expected to be competent to do it.
My sons went to a (very good) comprehensive senior school in Surrey. They’d attended state infant and junior schools and by the time they got to the senior one, they knew how to deal with the “rougher” and more disruptive pupils.
The kids who went to private prep schools and then to the state comp for senior level (because the senior fees were too high) didn’t know how to deal with them …. and were (a) bullied and (b) struggled to adapt.
Good for you Jack. Your type of adventure would have been fairly commonplace when I was your age. I left school at 15 had a full-time job and a couple of holiday on my own,
On one occasion my family, mum, dad and sisters, when on one holiday whilst I went in the opposite direction, much to the chagrin of my elder sister that was not allowed the same privilege.
I hope your adventure has given you the conference to do more. Well done.
Well done Jack great story there’s hope for the younger generation yet!
At 67 years old I shudder at the thought of catching a train as I’ve had so many bad experiences over the years. Having said that, when I was 15, I would happily travel from London to Wolverhampton and then catch a bus. I think you become more risk averse as you get older- like your grandmother (I’m a grandfather)!
No, it’s just that THINGS HAVE CHANGED. Our once “High-Trust Societies” everywhere in the West have been ruined by Mass Third World Invasion.
A relative regularly used to hitch-hike 60 miles to and from boarding school from well under the age of 16.
That was in the days when email did not exist and there were no websites available to any old snitch to find out about how to snitch on people and then snitch.
There was only the telephone directory and landline phones.
Smart phones? That was in the days of Dick Tracy fiction.