This one took place when I was attempting to travel from the Cotswolds to Salisbury in England (I’m sensing a theme here, most of these mishaps are transportation-related).
When I researched train tickets from Moreton-in-Marsh to Salisbury, I realized that I hadn’t planned my jaunts around England very well. It was going to require two transfers before I reached my final destination, even though the distance (in miles traveled) wasn’t all that great. And since this was going to take place after a full day of touring with the Cotswolds with a private guide, I knew I was going to be a bit weary.
The first leg of the trip, from Moreton-in-Marsh to Reading, was uneventful. At this point, I was supposed to board a train to Basingstoke, which would then allow me to transfer to another one to Salisbury.
Reading is a good-sized station and I made my way to the correct platform. I boarded my 6:12pm train and settled in for what was supposed to be a 20-minute ride. But the train never stopped at Basingstoke. In fact, it didn’t make any intermediate stops at all. It went straight to London’s Paddington Station. I’d overshot my destination by 50+ miles. England is experiencing a bunch of railway strikes and they usually occur on weekends. Whether that was a factor in my mishap, I still don’t know.
But anyways, tired and dismayed, I seriously considered changing my plans and just staying in London overnight. But I had an historic inn in Salisbury waiting for me, and I really did want to see Salisbury Cathedral and Old Sarum, plus I was supposed to meet up with a fellow traveler in Salisbury the next day. Yeah, I should stick with the Salisbury plan.
I reluctantly figured that I was gonna have to shell out another 50 GBP for another ticket, but first I approached one of the station employees at the turnstiles. London is great that way. Are you confused? Lost? You can easily find an employee who can help you unravel your problem. I had that “I’m a dumb tourist” look on my face as I explained my scenario. He lifted a barrier, pointed me at a train, and told me that that one, leaving in about two minutes, would take me back to Reading. No charge.
Back to Reading. Find my platform, praying that the train will stop in Basingstoke this time. It does. Transfer in Basingstoke for the final train that will take me to Salisbury. Finally arrive in Salisbury and hop in a taxi to take me to my hotel. I think my troubles are over.
The Rose and Crown is described as a 13th century coaching inn located along the river with a lovely view of Salisbury’s Cathedral. Sounds lovely, right? What I was directed to was a bleak basement room facing the parking lot. I was NOT pleased. But because of my delays, it’s also just past 9pm, and I’m still hungry.
Back up to the lobby I go, only to discover that the hotel restaurant closed a few minutes ago. I ask for recommendations for places that deliver, and front desk staff tell me to pop around to the restaurant and ask them for recommendations.
A nice young man at the restaurant suggests ordering from Deliveroo, one of those restaurant delivery apps, and suggests a specific pizza restaurant. A nice hot pizza sounds good right now, so I order.
When it arrives, my order is wrong. There are no utensils or plates. Back I go to the hotel restaurant to borrow those items. Back to the cave room to eat whatever I’ve been given. It’s the sorriest excuse of a pizza that I’ve encountered in my entire life. I gave up on the pizza and ate the cheese breadsticks (which I didn’t order, but the delivery guy handed them to me, anyway) instead. That and a lemon-lime drink of some sort was my dinner.
The next morning, I was determined to move to a better room or abandon the Rose and Crown and find a last-minute alteernative elsewhere. I approached the young lady at the front desk and uttered the magical words “I don’t feel safe” regarding the location of my basement room. She offers me two alternatives. I can’t see the insides of the rooms because they still have guests in them, but I can at least investigate the locations. One faces the river and, due to the slope of the land, may technically be on the ground floor, but is actually perched far above ground level, so I won’t have strangers peering in my windows. I went back to the front desk and requested that room. She says the housekeeping staff can transfer my luggage while I’m out and about during the day. Relieved, I enjoy my day touring Old Sarum and other parts of Salisbury with Julie.
When I return in the late afternoon, I’m given the key to my new room. I climb the stairs in trepidation. What awaits me inside? Heaven! A big comfortable room with gorgeous views of the Avon River and the spire of the Salisbury Cathedral in the distance. Bliss! Finally, a happy ending.