When I arrived at the station, the next train to Birmingham was due to depart from platform five.  Those of you who have had the good fortune never to walk through the doors of Wolverhampton station, may be unaware that to find platform five is a test of ingenuity and endurance.  Take note; coming into the station from the main entrance, you will shortly find yourself on platform one, which is a good and logical sort of place in which to be.  You will look around hopefully for the helpful sort of signs which are traditionally erected by stationmasters to enable you to find your way around, and you will quickly realise that they are right above your head.  That is to say, there is a solitary sign which informs you that platforms two, three, four and six are all to your left. If you are a particularly observant sort, you may notice that platform five is not included on that list, and speculate as to whether the inscription has worn off or been vandalised.  Those who are in a rush, will simply conclude that all platforms are located to the left.  Either way, it is a fair bet that you are going to turn to the left in an attempt to find your platform. (more…)

“Have you ever licked a piece of rubber?” asked the client.  “Feel free to try.  You’ll find that the Chinese rubber tastes quite different to the Spanish stuff”.

I sniffed the tube of rubber he held out to me gingerly, but declined to try it with my tongue.  It was difficult to maintain an appropriately straight face. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure whether the client was being serious or trying to wind me up, but I didn’t want to take any chances. This wasn’t a place where the staff seemed to have a great sense of humour. (more…)

Getting a flight at 7am on a Saturday morning for a quick weekend away in Germany always seems like such a good idea, until the alarm goes off at four. Having not had more than five hours sleep all week, it was somewhat of a struggle to drag myself out of a nice warm bed into the freezing cold and darkness of the house, with the result that I was hardly ready when my taxi banged on the door. The taxi driver seemed friendly enough, apologising profusely for the fact that the temperature in his taxi was sub-zero, but he then proceeded to drive me to the airport via a route which, in my long experience of taking taxis to the airport, no other taxi driver had ever taken me before. I felt a trifle disconcerted. I have a strange phobia that taxi drivers will either wilfully abduct me or misunderstand me and take me somewhere entirely different to where I wanted to go. The former has happily not yet occurred. The latter unfortunately has on at least one occasion. (more…)