A wonderful journey to Ruabon and Wrexham (Oh and a game was played as well)

The alarm clock chirped and I struggled out of bed at 6:50am, 6:50 on a Saturday! Awful, I collected Dave and went to the train station for what was to be an epically long day. The first train dropped us off at Newport (so I've finally made it this season given the two postponements!) and we boarded the train which was to take us to Wrexham.

The train line ambles along between the Welsh/English borders, only realising you are back in one or the other by the place names. Having travelled to most away games this year by coach or car, it was a true treat to be on the train again. Travel at your time, stop where you want to stop and drink! Happy glorious ale on the move, so at 10 the first bottles were cracked, and fine beers were supped as we watched the green and pleasant land outside the window slip past.

Not pronounced as you'd expect!

Beery heaven lies within

At 11:53 we disembarked at Ruabon, "Ruabon?!" I hear you cry, "you're meant to be going to Wrexham." And of course we are, but once again the joy of the train is we can stop where we want rather than where you are told with the coach (a point which was rammed home when we arrived at Wrexham and found most of the coach in a Wetherspoons, sod that!) and Ruabon, which is a mere 5 miles from Wrexham has a pub nominated by CAMRA as one of the 4 pubs of the year.

Part one of man incredibly happy with his pint

The Bridge End Inn had been visited by fellow stripe Tim the night before and he had forewarned staff that we would be arriving. So come 12 o'clock we all look like a right bunch of alkies hanging around a pub door waiting for it to open! The church bells tolled and the key in the door turned and we were in!

And part 2!

The pub itself is a treat, and an enjoyable two hours were spent before we got back onto the train. Leading to a conductor who knew we'd got off where we shouldn't have asking questions and a straight-faced reply of "We got off at the wrong stop" was returned. We arrived at Wrexham General and popped into the Wetherspoons mentioned previously, for a quick pint and saw the people off of the coach.

Now I will readily admit to us being a couple of minutes late to the Racecourse ground, but this I have never encountered. The turnstiles were closed, closed! At 5 minutes after kick off, so we paid the fee directly to two stewards who opened the main exit gate and ushered us through...what's the likelihood of that money arriving in the Wrexham coffers!?

Biggest terrace in Europe

The game concluded exactly as expected. Wrexham won at a canter, without really getting out of first gear. City had a few moments, including an unfortunate clearance off the line when Marley Watkins had rounded the keeper and hit the ball towards goal, only for the covering defender to get it off the line. At half time it was 1-0, then minutes after the restart Mark Preece tripped Speight for a clear penalty, Speight picked himself up and hammered the ball home. 2-0 and that is how it would finish. Wrexham allowed the men in stripes to knock the ball around in areas that were not threatening, so the stats will show evenish possession, but in reality City were never in the game.

However, that is not a criticism, the team battled hard and didn't get battered like last week at Grimsby, so I think most people were reasonably contented with the result, although Jamie Cook once again came on and in Palmers words "marked the full back" City were poor but tried their best.

Joules mirrors

After the game, we retired to the Royal Oak pub which sold Joules beer, and learnt that Joules red cross is the 6th oldest beer mark in the world. We then got the train home, that should be the end of the story, but due to the fact that some lads were fighting at Abergavenny we were stuck on our train in danger of missing the last one back home!

Wrexham General with Racecourse in background

 
Oh dear, we managed to get back to Bristol and just about snuck onto a replacement bus, which then again was delayed by lads who couldn't handle their beer. They were chucked off and finally around 11:55 I arrived back home. An enjoyable day, slightly ruined by the football!

It's very hard to understand is Welsh!