Just Say No to National Express

I spent a few days in Manchester, a place I will never return during a Man U home game. My hostel was overrun by loud, animated, and drunk-at-noon (game started at 8pm) Italians out to cause a stir after what happened at last week’s Man U vs. Roma game. I was watching an English soap opera in the TV room with two Australian girls but that was taken over by English fans eager to watch the game and criticize the players, as if they would do better on the field. I ended up watching the game, because really I had no other choice, and Man U won 7-1 disgracing Roma. It wasn’t a very eventful game though; Manchester had effectively won in the first 20 minutes, and the Italians had their asses handed to them.

I went to bed fairly early, around midnight, because I had to be up at 7:15am to take the bus to York the next day. I was rudely awaken at 4am by retardedly drunk Man U fans outside my window singing every tribute song to the players at the top of their lungs. Half of them probably didn’t even know their names at that point but could sing every corny anthem to Ronaldo and Rooney as if it were second nature. This went on for 45 minutes. I was so livid that I was tempted to scream out the window but I’ve learned from experience that telling drunk people to “shut up” only incites them to yell louder so I kept quiet and prayed for rain.

I eventually fell asleep only to be woken by two stumbling roommates as they entered he room replaying the game’s details to each other as if they hadn’t been sitting side by side watching the game. After they fell asleep, or more likely passed out, I was able to get some rest until one’s cell phone went off at regular 4-minute intervals starting at 7am. I tried to wake him at first, but to no avail, so I forcefully (I know I’m terrible) shook his shoulder but he was comatose and didn’t move. I picked up his ringing clothes and threw them away from the bed to stop the phone. I was in no mood to deal with it peacefully; what can I say, I was cranky. Besides all of that, Manchester was ok.

I made my way to the bus station the next morning and was almost refused entry because it was booked out at Leeds. The exceptionally kind bus driver told me to board anyway and see if people didn’t show. Otherwise, I would have had to get off at Leeds and take another bus to York. Luckily there were a few no-shows so I was able to stay on all the way to my destination. I was grateful the bus driver had been so accommodating – few National Express drivers are. Which brings me to my next point – I abhor National Express and buying the Brit Xplorer pass was the worst travel move I’ve ever made. I’d advise anyone against it and urge them to just buy tickets individually because it would be cheaper (I would have saved 100pounds if I did) and you’re guaranteed a seat (which I never was). The Brit Xplorer passes are huge scams and not worthwhile unless you plan on taking a bus every single day, but of course they don’t write that on the website so it sounds like a good deal.

I only had a day in York so I just walked around taking in the sights. York is a quintessential medieval English town complete with cobbled sidewalks and old-style buildings. I ventured over to the imposing York Minster, the town’s cathedral, and rather than going in (I’ve seen cathedrals before) just took a few pictures from the outside. The rest of the day I wandered aimlessly around and enjoyed the weather. That night, I went on a York Ghost Trail walk around the city. York is noted for being the most haunted city in England, and the guide took us around the town and pointed out where supposed ghosts and spirits lurk. It was actually a really entertaining tour and the guide, who was dressed in a tux with tails and a top hat, was funny and theatrical.

When I had arrived in York, I inquired about buses to Edinburgh and was informed that there was only one departure daily. I thought it best to reserve a seat rather than risk getting shut out of the bus, but when I asked the woman she told me that I was unable to reserve a seat. Apparently reservations for the Brit Xplorer pass can only be made at National Express offices, not National Express ticket agents. I was, once again, pissed at National Express. There was absolutely no way for me to reserve a seat and I had to just hope that the bus wasn’t full because she also wasn’t able to tell me how many seats were left. They really shouldn’t label their offices “tickets and information” when they don’t provide either. I was, fortunately, able to board the bus to Edinburgh the next morning without a problem, and arrived six hours later.