Confused systems

Whack Job 1 Whacked Assassin 0

“4-4-2, 4-3-3 OR SIMPLY AN UNORTHODOX CRANIO-RECTAL FORMATION?”

Until we speak again this is Pundit Juno bringing you all you need to know about football in less than 10 words.

[With thanks to Sky Sports website for the posted image].

Time was

Cardiff City 0 Middlesborough 1

City v Middlesborough “BRIDGE TO TRANSPORTER, BEAM US DOWN A TEAM… QUICKLY!”

Transporter Bridge Middlesbrough England - great-britain Photo

Until we speak again this is Pundit Juno bringing you all you need to know about football in less than 10 words.

[With thanks for individual images of Middlesborough Transporter Bridge posted on google].

Canary mustard cutters…

Cardiff City 2 Norwich City 4

 Cut The Mustard

“… AS BLUEBIRDS COME THIRD IN A TWO HORSE RACE!”

Until we speak again this is Pundit Juno bringing you all you need to know about football in less than 10 words.

[With thanks for individual images posted on google].

Just add water

Cardiff City 1 Wigan Athletic 0

“IMMINENT BORE DRAW…

Just add water [2]

… FLOURISHES TO LIMP OVER THE LINE.”

Until we speak again this is Pundit Juno bringing you all you need to know about football in less than 10 words.

[Thanks to ‘photographsonthebrain’ site on Tumblr for posting the cat photo].

Re-awakenings

Cardiff City 3 Huddersfield Town 1

Welcome to Cardiff City Stadium

“LOCAL FANS IMPOSSIBLE EXPECTATIONS RESUME RESIDENCE ON CLOUD NINE!”

     Until we speak again this is Pundit Juno bringing you all you need to know about football in less than 10 words.

[With thanks to fineartamerica.com for the cat image].

OMG!!!

The football season has returned… a whole 10 minutes after the World Cup finished! So my resident ‘confounded optimist‘ is already buying into the pre-season hype of the local team being favourites to win the Championship again, and return to the Premier League (that they flunked so badly last time). The household is already resounding to the soundtrack of cliches and nonsense about the beautiful game returning to fill the void of a whole three weeks of nothing more than post-tournement pre-season tournements specially arranged for the tournement-deprived.

Look, no eyes!If, like me, you are catastrophically underwhelmed by another nine months of over-exagerated hyperbole dressed up as serious punditry delivered by people without a serious thought holding their ears apart, then I have a solution. No, give the Dignitas membership a miss! This season I am allowing the in-house ‘verbosity funnel‘ the chance to list home results, with maybe the occasional stat about the position in the league (for a laugh) and a completely uninteresting photo from the game. As for the endless drivel about the game of two halves… I am taking personal responsibility to provide succinct summaries of each home game in 10 words or less. After all, what more can you say about 22 men kicking balls?

Until we speak again, Pundit Juno is going to be placing every useful pre-season word uttered by ‘them who shalt be ignored‘ end-to-end, just to see if more than two words can actually be strung together! Meeeooow…

A World Cup Feast

There was a time, or so I am told by people I live with who are simply ‘old’, that the infamous Tiger Bay in Cardiff docklands would have been able to offer representative cuisine of not only the World Cup finalists, but pretty much all of the nations represented in the qualifying rounds. The six blocks around the Loudoun Square of old would no doubt have put on some special barbeque for a final in said square. Then a combination of prejudice, politics and misplaced town planning ideals improved/changed/destroyed the lot of the UK’s very first truely multi-cultural community. The result of so-called progress is that now you will struggle to find representation of the 32 finalists alone across the whole of the city.

So, I decided, based on very little empirical research and a huge amount of unapologetic bias, to relocate the whole of the 2014 World Cup tournament from Brazil to Cardiff, and to play it by culinary rules that make no sense to me… after all, how else is Wales going to have any representation on this world stage? If FIFA continue to be happy with their decision-making regarding Qatar and Russia, I am perfectly happy to run the whole tournament on the basis where you can eat something, so good luck to you if you understand any of the following nonsense!

Group A: Brazil, Croatia, Mexico and Cameroon.

Viva Brazil [1]With the wealth of Croatian and Cameroonian delicacies securely hidden from sight in Cardiff, this group becomes a straight Latin American bun fight. Viva Brazil takes on the longer established MexicoChiquito for a place in the last eight.

 

For prominence of location at the top end of St. Mary’s Street this is a simple win for Brazil. Mexico opting for a subterranean location in the Brewery Quarter only makes itself immediately visible to people more attracted by the ‘Brewery’ connotation.

Group B: Spain, Holland, Chile and Australia.

SpainNotwithstanding the abject humiliation experienced by Spain at the hands of Holland in their true World Cup opening game, in my version there is a reversal of fortunes. At least Spain can muster up a restaurant in the form of La Tasca, Hollandwhereas Holland merely offer what this cat can only describe as a wafer thin snack in the form of a Pancake House.

Chile rely on a dish similar in name with a base of hot beans available at low cost in numerous outlets; while Australia rely on a national cliche of a capacity to drink copious tinnies rather than eat muchAustralia, in the solitary hope that progression to the next round might pitch them against kindred spirits in England. Such misguided planning results in Australia going truly Walkabout, as Spain progress to the last eight.

Group C: Colombia, Ivory Coast, Japan and Greece.

Whilst Colombia start out as group favourites, a dependence on coffee presents a setback for this culinary cat. ColombiaBeware if you are asked “one shot or two”, particularly as this passionate football nation managed to shoot a previous returning captain for the failure of the team in the World Cup tournament.

 

Japan

 

With Ivory Coast failing to offer much of a dining experience in downtown Cardiff, this group becomes a penalty shootout between the Wagamama chain representing Japan, and Pipi’s Restaurant representing Greece.Greece

With an attempt to broaden the appeal, Pipi’s tries to advertise the distinctly un-Greek panini and baguette, with the result that Japan go through to the last eight on simple honesty alone.

 

Group D: Uruguay, Italy, England and Costa Rica.

This is the group where normal expectationsCaroline Street would be sky-rocketing for a certain country that claims to have invented the ugly game, before others (notably Brazil) made it beautiful. But this tournament is taking place in Wales, so England might even struggle against Costa Rica! The customary line-up of 
fish and chip shops with a side of WetherspoonsWetherspoons puts England at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to a game requiring fitness, stamina and skill.

Costa Rica and Uruguay struggle to find a foothold in the Welsh capital, out-coffee’d and out-beaf’d by illustrious geographical neighbours.

Italy

 

So, it is left to Italy in the shape of Giovanni’s to take the group by storm and progress to a relatively easy birth in the last eight.

 

 

 

Group E: Switzerland, France, Ecuador and Honduras.

FranceWho needs the customary culinary arrogance when your group is nothing more than a stroll in the park? The Swiss offer nothing more than a cheesy performance; while Ecuador and Honduras fail to adapt to the Welsh culinary climate. This leaves France to Bistro their way into the last eight c/o Pierre, but will the ease of their progression result in previously witnessed complacency on their part?

Group F: Argentina, Bosnia-Herzogovenia, Nigeria and Iran.

Rumour has it that if you can sweet talk Miss Bosnia-Herzogovenia (Cardiff Branch) you might get an invite to her mother’s Sunday lunch; so the chances of a culinary sweep of this group fade as quickly as a 1970’s chat-up line. Iran employ National Guard type tactics, so nothing tasty there; and Nigeria suffers from the downbeat reports of Tribe Tribe and other African cafe restaurants around Cardiff. The door is wide open for Argentina to sweep through the group, but theirs is a hesitant progression, as they have to rely on Viva Brazil as an introduction… otherwise any steak that is not Welsh or Scottish, but is expensive just might be Argentinian! Argentina limp meekly into the last eight of the tournament, with very little of taste to suggest they could go further.

Group G: Germany, Portugal, USA and Ghana.

Ghana suffer from the poor culinary representation of all African nations in Cardiff. However, this is not so for ‘Obesity Central’ (USA) whose mother ship has definitely landed with widespread representation in the form of ‘King Mac of Kentucky’ franchises blotting most culinary sensibilities. On volume of supply USA would surely be going through from this group, but their all-round reduction of the beautiful game to a waddling spectacle undermines any claim to quality.Germany

The decisive challenge comes from a straight European match-up of culinary contrasts. The German offer suffers from an unusual unobtrusiveness… apart from a full-on christmas market for a small part of the year you have to find an upstairs location in Wally’s Delicatessen for your intake of bratwurst.

Madiera [1]

 

 

 

By contrast, Portugal are prominently represented by the perennial sunny outlook of the Madiera restaurant at the bottom of Churchill Way. So, Portugal go through to the last eight.

Group H: Belgium, Russia, South Korea and Algeria.

This is the quintessential ‘group of death’, not in usual football terms of many teams having an equal chance of progression… more because you are likely to die of starvation before you find any relevant sustenance. If you are looking for something distinctly authentic from any of these teams you should probably visit a suburb of Cardiff known as London. As most of these games are likely to result in a stalemate it falls to a number of female supporters to call it… the importance of chocolate ultimately tips the group in favour of Belgium, as they progress unconvincingly to the last eight.

Quarter Finals

1. Brazil v Spain… Las Iguanas

A late Brazilian substitution, bringing in parts of the Las Iguanas menu, fails to find any response from Spain. The competition favourites progress to the semi-finals.

2. Japan v Italy…

Japan provide a strong contest through the introduction of Yakitori#1 at Mermaid Quay to take an early lead.

But the wily Italians have been here before, and feel very comfortable adding to their range of usual chain offerings (Pizza Express, Zizzi’s, Carluccios and Bellini’s) with Cafe Citta as one of the most widely rated top restaurants in the city.

Mixed starter<br />

Italy go through to the semi-finals with the help of the depth of their squad.

3. France v Argentina… France take an early lead through the introduction of a tried and tested chain favourite (though not in this household apparently).French restaurant in Cardiff Mermaid Quay

Argentina had struggled to reach this part of the competition, and with nothing in reserve they meekly succumb as the French stroll through to the last four.

4. Portugal v Belgium…

Belgium offer little threat of any culinary extravagance on the Cardiff stage, so Portugal are able to achieve a straight forward victory by their judicious use of Nando’s to appeal to the masses.

Semi-Finals

1. Brazil v Italy…

A longstanding great football rivalry comes to a head in this semi-final. The Italians suffer from a lack of creativity, as what you get in one seems to be pretty much what you get in them all. A ‘pizzeria’ leaves little to the 21st century Cardiff imagination. Brazil dazzle the locals with the mesmerising challenge of the ‘churrascaria’ and the fusion with other Latin American countries cuisine in their own restaurant and the broader Las Iguanas offer. Brazil go through to the culinary World Cup final as a result of their greater creativity and sense of the unknown.

2. France v Portugal…

An all-Eurpean semi-final sets Mediterrean v Atlantic cuisine on collision course. The French rely too heavily on their usual fare and expectation of superiority, while the Portuguese are continually looking to mix things up with their blend of flagship Madiera restaurant, Nando’s chain, and then drawing on another cafe style restaurant, Almada in Canton, and the Benedito’s deli in Splott. The match goes into extra-time, but the strength and depth of the Portuguese sees them through to the final.

2014 Culinary World Cup Final: Brazil v Portugal

Linguistically at least, it is an all-Portuguese final. The menus for Viva Brazil v Madiera line up for a quality contest deserving of a final. On my personal gastronomes number of visits it appears that Viva Brazil takes a lead (2-1); but this is also based on the Madiera being more difficult to book at certain peak times of the week, with 3 previously unsuccessful attempts; so Portugal equalise the ear;ly lead established by Brazil. Then on ‘Trip Advisor’ ranking for Cardiff restaurants the Madiera takes the lead (55th > 93rd). Madiera [3]

But, is this to be the battle of the skewers? The Madiera goes for an audacious hanging skewers from the ceiling above the table; but Viva Brazil storms back to equalise with no less than a range of 9 different skewers brought to your table for personal carving of as much of what you like.

2-2 with only a few minutes of the final left to play… both restaurants miss easy late chances as a result of the over-bearing noise from boisterous neighbouring tables. As time is running out it comes down to quality of service… the Madiera offer friendly but not particularly attentive service, while Viva Brazil rely too much on the waiters frequently serving skewers at tables and diners helping themselves to the salad bar.

The match goes into extra time, and with quality of food being on a par it is going to a penalty shootout, unless one team can pull out something entirely unexpected. With the clock running down into its final minute Viva Brazil throw the curved ball of vegetarian options! With an extensive range on the creatively stocked salad bar, and the offer of a freshly prepared cooked vegetarian skewer a surprise lead is established. The Madiera can only respond with a small range of omelette, pasta and mushroom stroganoff options; and despite claims to extensive fish dishes the final whistle blows!

Having taken the beautiful game away from the beautiful exponents, and setting it in the beautiful city of Cardiff, Brazil still win the World Cup!!

Viva Brazil description [2]

Until we speak again this is one Juno who intends to stop relying on personal reviews of these eateries brought home by the resident nosh monster… its high time that I get to taste all of this fabulous stuff myself. Who said immigration didn’t do anything good for this country? May the Ukip rump long continue to enjoy their boiled beef and carrots.

So, what did we learn?

 

Sharing my home with a dumb animal has some perks, but listening to insane optimism from an inevitably delusional fan about a failure of a football season is not one of them. So I thought I would put the story straight by offering you selected excerpts of my incisive reportage on the plight of the local colour-conflicted Purple Dragonbirds season in the Premier League. If you like football look away now, and if you don’t… read on. What did we learn, and who really cares?

Tiring day at the office

Manchester City (25/8/13) “A football stadium on match day is really just a bunch of overweight folk sat on their arses telling a bunch of fit blokes how to play the game.” There is nothing like a great start to a season to get the lardy types ramping up expectations, and with a 3-2 win for the home team against the mega-wealth of the opposition you just have to look at the final places at the end of the season to get a sense of perspective (Man City are champions, and Cardiff City finish bottom!).

Everton (1/9/13) With a foul inside the penalty area there are conflicting views of whether there should have been a penalty awarded to Everton. “A true football fan sees what they want to see, not necessarily what really happened.”

Tottenham Hotspur (22/9/13) Many players have now come to believe the hype that they are delicate thoroughbreds who, despite their obscene wealth, still need a week off to rest if they have played two matches a week for successive weeks.” The amount of money in the game is beginning to make Monopoly look like a franchise for paupers.

Newcastle United (5/10/13) “A football crowd often resembles 90 minutes brimful of inane shouting and chanting dressed up as collective banter.” But football has its moments, times when the bizarre attempts to pass itself off for normality, as when the world famous Treorchy Male Voice Choir sing Blaydon Races from the half-time pitchside to the travelling Geordie supporters.

Swansea City (3/11/13) Billed as the first South Wales Premier League derby this match resembled more of The Rest of the World v Spain. “The beautiful game arrives in the form of the ‘lovely ugly town’ to be played out in front of 27,000+ magnificently mindless people who don’t quite get how world-definingly meaningless this event is to all but the supporters of each club.” 

Manchester United (24/11/13) “The new default position is one of: if brushed by a breath of air go immediately to ground as if felled by a sledgehammer.” Since the turn of the century the once revered Newton Health (Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway) FC have succumbed to European trade descriptions for the game, and are now occasionally known as the Trafford Park Diving Club, noted more for the tuck and pike movements of some of their overpaid individuals, a somewhat balletic and artistically horizontal game plan disparagingly referred to as cheating by opposing fans.

Arsenal (30/11/13) “The visitors have expanded their reputation from one of ‘petit France’ to a more UKIP offending pan-European blend of team, but as with most European institutions the style can tend towards the over-elaborate with an emphasis on process sometimes to the detriment of the end product.” The locals do love a humble returning son, so Aaron Ramsey gets the rare accolade of a standing ovation on his return to his original club, and further applause for scoring against them. Uncharacteristically, their manager, Arsene Wenger, saw that (a football insiders joke).

West Bromwich Albion (14/12/13) “With christmas looming ever closer the ghosts of Premier Past, Premier Present and Premier Future align to offer difficult omens for the local’s hero Malky Mackay, particularly as a Jacob Marley-like image imposes itself over the stadium. Or is it just Vincent Tan preparing to give Malky an internal examination?” 

Southampton (26/12/13) A match mired in off the field on-going disputes between club owner and team manager promises little in the way of christmas spirit. “Ultimately what emerges is nothing more than a megalomaniac-inspired, finance-confused, football knowledge free-zone, pantomime of farcical proportions. The ragged band who make up the local team seem as clear in their style of play as the club and fans do about agreeing on the team’s shirt colour.”

Sunderland (28/12/13) When a team is devoid of confidence they even contrive to throw away a 2-0 lead when they have dominated the opposition. As the cliche goes, ‘the game is not over until the final whistle’. “The Oompa Loompa from Kuala Lumpur might just be the son of satan, but one thing is for sure, football fans have very little sense of perspective when it comes to reflecting on their own team.”

West Ham United (11/1/14) I must admit I fell off my throne laughing when I heard my original local team, West Ham, are moving into the Olympic Stadium soon; a triumph of ambition over ability if I have ever heard of one. Meanwhile, back at the local ranch the new regime replaces the old as Ole takes over from Malky, and it’s the inevitable “kiss the badge time” for several existing players who should have been fighting harder, and new players who find themselves here despite never having any previous ambition to be a Cardiff City player. “Nothing like false claims of loyalty for fooling the mindless horde into accepting you!”

Norwich City (1/2/14) A match between two teams who have completely lost the habit of scoring goals; and in the world of football cliches “it’s goals that win games”, so I am told. “This is a game that promises to ramp up the levels of boredom to new heights, and likely to provide as much excitement as watching a canary choking to death in a coalmine.” It finishes as a 2-1 home win, so that shows you how much I know when it comes to predictions.

Aston Villa (12/2/14) “It’s 7.45pm on a wet Tuesday night in February; welcome to the grim, the battered and the ugly!” Estate Agents would no doubt be hyping up the levels of exaggeration around this being a stormy battle between two teams desperate for three points. The reality is a becalming Basement Flat 0 Underwhelming Villa 0. Seems like Estate Agents might have as much knowledge as this cool cat when it comes to the predictions game.

Hull City (22/2/14) “If you put all of the footballing cliches end-to-end you would still not get anywhere near the land of common sense.” Far from being blessed with the notorious game changing players or moves, this is more the battle of the ‘name-changers’, as respective owners earn nothing but a bucket of bile from their fans for daring to suggest that history be ditched in favour American sports team style names. I am losing count of the number of ways that money trumps any source of common sense in this game.

Fulham (8/3/14) “The Premier League’s two worst teams go head-to-head in a rush for relegation. Football can be a funny game, but whoever came up with that one hasn’t watched cricket!” My prediction was that this would be a roller-coaster of a yawn in which 90 minutes can be a long time when you are sat watching grass grow. “Mesmerising, majestic, out-of-this-world, scintillating… these are all words that belong somewhere else, but surprisingly the home team conjured up a 3-1 win.”

Liverpool (22/3/14) “The Beautiful Game Tour (aka Liverpool FC) rolls into Cardiff City’s home (aka Bleak House). In true Dickensian vernacular the home fans still hold on to Great Expectations, but this is a Tale of Two Cities right out of The Old Curiosity Shop, and the home team will surely find nothing but Hard Times, as they perilously march towards Marshalsea Debtors Prison.” Despite a deserving 1-0 and 2-1 lead the home team succumb to a 6-3 defeat.

Crystal Palace (5/4/14) A battle of two recently promoted teams should present a re-staging of the Gunfight at the OK Corral, but who will win the shoot-out and will the loser have one foot on Boot Hill? When an Eagle tangles with a Bluebird only one result should be expected. Unluckily for the home team that is the way this match also went, with nothing but blue feathers spat out. In the words of the Coen Brothers “If this isn’t a mess it will do until the mess gets here.”

Stoke City(19/4/14) “My human ’emotional roller-coaster’ insists in hanging on to the hopey-changey thing following a fluke away win the previous week, but I unhelpfully suggest this bears no relation to a swallows and summer vibe.” Confiscating the belts and laces might be needed in preparation for suicide watch. At least the one with more money than sense might well be getting an extra four matches for the already purchased season ticket for next year (24 clubs in the division below, as opposed to 20 in the Premier League).

Chelsea(11/5/14) “The Premier League season comes to its closing game, and just as architectural designs disappear to the horizon at their vanishing point, so it is time for my delusional desperado to disappear up their own passageway of dreams.” Unfortunately my very own little dot on the horizon is talking the defeated pugilists talk of instant comebacks. Some people (and most football fans) are just born masochists!

So, that was it… a season in the Premier League in which Cardiff City FC came, they saw, and they were conquered. Early season promise under the guidance of the God-like Malky Mackay only gave way to a flatlining league position for the majority of the second half of the season, under the overall guidance of a clueless megalomaniac with plenty of what counts… money, and nothing of what should count… knowledge of the game and passion for the local team. All this new talk about the excitement of another Championship campaign leaves me ecstatic with delight. So, until we speak again I shall be a thoroughly overwhelmed Juno.

Vanishing Point

The Premier League season comes to its closing day, and just as architectural designs disappear to the horizon at the vanishing point so my resident ‘delusional desperado’ is about to disappear up their own passageway of dreams. They join the local tribe of dedicated panhandlers for the final time in their current Premier League existence, patiently wading through oceans of guano in the hope of the occasional pearl-laden oyster. But it is only the dark clouds rolling in that offer a genuine backdrop to the final contest. But even this final fight is more of a vanishing point, as two pugilists step into the ring for an event without a purpose, other than fulfilling a pre-determined contract. The home team are already relegated, and the away team end a season with their own disappointment of not being able to win anything.

  V.  

The locals persistently question the colour of the corners, but on this occasion the reality is that in the red corner we have ‘The Baby Faced Assassin‘ and in the blue corner we have ‘The Special One‘, as Ole visibly ageing and Jose progressively greying square up for hopefully anything but handbags at 10 paces…

   V.     

The potential pre-match hype stirred up by a street-fighting Mourinho, if his team had a heavyweight title depending on the contest, is all but missing. Snarls are replaced by the anodyne smiles of combatants with minds more firmly fixed on a summer of business in preparation for fights to be won in the future. If there is any real match day animosity it is all in the home camp as the fans make it very clear to the owner ‘they will always be blue’:

City v Chelsea [1]

The bell sounds for the first round, it is 3.00pm on a Sunday afternoon, and the home pugilists look deep down to their boots for some inspiration for the fight ahead:

City v Chelsea [2]Is this to be the mis-match of the century, as the heavyweights from the capital of England dominate the ring of the lightweights of the capital of Wales. The visitors certainly begin fleet of foot as they dance around the ring constantly probing for the opening to land a decisive punch. However, underestimate the lighter opponents at your peril, as on 15 minutes the Chelsea defence is opened up with a Craig Bellamy shot that produces a classic sucker punch as it deflects off a Chelsea defender to leave their last line of defence wrong-footed. A further 30 minutes of trading punches produces no further potential knockout blows. At the end of this round a shock is set up as the home fans witness a lead on points… Cardiff City 1 Chelsea 0.

The bell sounds for round two, but can the sleek arts of the pugilists recover against the early lead for the street-fighters?

City v Chelsea [4]The gulf in class is beginning to show as the delicate footwork of previous champions mesmerises their brave hosts. The home team cushion a few blows, and offer limited glimpses of the search for their own killer punch. On 72 minutes and 75 minutes the decisive combination of hook and upper-cut are applied, and the home fans are left on the floor. With the absence of Gary Medel, their iconic pitbull, they struggle to find the street-fighter spirit that would give them a chance of getting back into this match. The vanishing point duly arrives, as it is time to throw the towel in and slip off back to Championship football.

Final score of the final game of the season… Cardiff City 1 Chelsea 2.

My very own ‘little dot on the horizon’ arrives back with surprisingly measured temperament, but surely punch-drunk, as they evoke the spirit of many a defeated pugilist claiming that a comeback is on the cards, and it all starts here. Some people are just born masochists. Until we speak again I will be a Juno trying to discover what sense underpins the spending of billions of pounds on a few youngsters kicking a ball around a patch of grass.

[Some images have been gratefully borrowed from google images to illustrate the story, and are used with thanks to those who originally placed them].

 

 

Asylum Seeker

And so it came to pass that mathematical uncertainty disappeared down the same pan that had long since been the final port of disposal of any pretensions to artistic flare and dynamic teamwork. In short, the local team fall through the trap door of Premier League relegation, and go back from whence they came a mere twelve months ago. Gloom descends on those who are clearly unaware of the privilege they experience in sharing the Juno household.Full face

So, my thoughts mischievously turn to matters of detention and incarceration for those who have spent a deluded season of misguided hope and expectation. Don’t mistake my fixed stare for anything more than simply a mask of sympathy for those who frequently desert me; underneath I am rolling around the floor in fits of laughter.

Clarion entrance

I can’t begin to imagine the fear and despair in what passes for the mind of my companion as they are escorted through the foreboding portals of Victorian misery. Surrounded by nothing but haunting desolation suspended beneath threatening slate grey skies where I imagine the colour blue has long since been banished…

Clarion externall view

 

 

 

 

Above the stone entrance the last thought for the prospective inmate will be the 1848 etched above the cavernous door. 18.48 was to be about the time that celebrations would be easing having achieved  survival on the final day of the season; instead it is merely a portent of when time stopped for the poor lost souls of mental incapacity (aka football supporters).

How challenging it must be to put one foot before the other in a leaden walk into a world devoid of any cheerful welcome, into a place where light has long departed only to be replaced by the grim shadows…

Clarion reception

… pierced only by the incoherent screams of those fated to live out a colourless life of inactivity…

Clarion conference events centre

What dimly candle-lit expanses of cold dormitory await, where eery spectres lie in wait to disturb any inmate suspected of escaping into the soulful respite of slumber?

Clarion room entrance [1]

Clarion room entrance [2]

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clarion bedroom

 

 

Single beds with thin mattresses barely separated by space to move, with every inch of premium real estate taken for wharehousing abject misery.

Clarion iving room [2]

 

But surely the undemarcated darkness of night and day is preferable to the grim vitals that constitute the monotonous fare to be served up in the bland surroundings of a grey refectory…

Clarion barClarion meal

 

 

 

 

 

A place where dreams are routinely crushed, and the only source of hope lies in solemn prayers…

St Columbas Church

 

Then I hear the key in the door of the Juno household, and in walks a smiling beneficence. For all of my tortured worries and concerns for the welfare of the ‘migrant labourer’, it transpires that they were residing at the Saint Columbas lunatic asylum (circa 1848) in Sligo (Republic of Ireland), but now it is the splendid luxury of the Clarion Hotel… the lucky bastard!!

Until we speak again I am going to be a determinedly demanding Juno, particularly after hearing about the enjoyment of all this hospitality and opulence.