APAT Cardiff

Dragon My Ass To Wales

Another APAT weekend, another non-bink. I’m never going to get to Portugal at this rate. I’d booked all of Friday off which proved to be a most excellent decision. I could have just taken the afternoon but I calculated that if I left work around 1pm and spurred my trusty steed  ”Owdeeayfor” I would hit Bristol and/or Cardiff just in time for rush hour.

Not fancying that one iota I did the sensible thing and got away at 11 o’clock on the dot. That gave me plenty of time in the morning for a lie in and general whatnot. I had a decent run for a couple of hours and was at the Leigh Delamare services just about an hour or so from Cardiff when I pulled over for a refreshing brew.

No, just a cup of tea, I’m not that stupid. I had no reason to rush; I was probably no more than an hour away from rolling into Cardiff.

Of course, the ‘best laid plans’ and all that. I’d no sooner gotten back on the road, when I saw the traffic guidance thingy on my satnav app turn yellow in parts indicating problems. The usual morons causing havoc I assumed and sure enough there were a couple of accidents along the way.

However, I rocked up at the Future Inn around 3.30pm which, considering the 45 minute ‘comfort’ stop wasn’t bad. There was a little confusion when I checked in as it seemed that they had two Paul Davis’ booked although the second was with the Welshian spelling.

I had a very comfortably sized room with the usual amenities. A flat screen TV (which I really don’t care about although I am going to have to investigate an HD cable for my laptop…the porn is so much better); kettle and so forth were provided.

 

I had a somewhat confusing minute when I checked out the bathroom…can you spot the problem from this picture?

Yep…no Khazi! I was about to shrug it off and the maid would have an unpleasant surprise the next morning when I twigged.

I reasoned it out (and vaguely recalled seeing it done somewhere before). There had to be one somewhere…so I walked into the bathroom and closed the door….and there it was, a separate cubicle for the Thomas and the door did double duty as both the bathroom door and stall door!

Anyway, enough talk of my ablutions. I did the usual Foursquare, Twitter and Facebook things and climbed back into the car and drove the mile or so to “The Wharf”. A very nice pub by the old....well, wharves with plenty of outside benches, lovely on a sunny day such as it was.

Not for me though, I crisp under a 40 watt bulb. I headed inside and plonked myself on a nice table which lovely breeze coming through the windows. The beer wasn’t monstrously expensive, about the same as my ‘home’ local but more than my ‘work’ local if you follow.

I knew I would have some time before anyone turned up (if they were, indeed, going to) so I unlimbered the laptop (free wi-fi) and caught up on the work email etc..

Ok, not really, a played a little online poker, drank a few beets and browsed for a while.

Asa McGrath and Sharon Roberts were supposed to be coming down along with Steve Roderick but after a while I just assumed that they had succumbed to the blandishments of the G Casino and gone to blow their wads early on.

Fortunately, at least for me (I don’t know how happy they were about it), Andy and Debjani Duncan walked in and we had a good old chinwag. More beers were consumed and a fairly decent double burger (in my case) was munched.

Eventually the evening drew to its (mostly) uneventful close and I made my way back to the Future Inn while the Duncans could just stroll over the bridge to the Holiday Inn Express.

No chance of a visit from the bear on this night.

---

I started to write (belatedly) of Cardiff on Saturday and Sunday but with almost nothing of import to report (hey, that rhymes), I couldn't be bothered.

You see....I'm lazy...I accept. I'm not proud of it, you understand, but I get to acknowledge it.

The Saga of Sir Paulie III

APAT Brighton: Saturday, 21st January 2012

“Good reader, my most humble apologies for the delay in completing my tale but the goode Sir Paulie was in his cups last night, celebrating the anniversary of his nativity, thus I was unable to comprehend his words due to the unfortunate slurring.”

At the cock’s crow on the Saturday, our hero didst open a bleary eye fully expecting to have suffered the indignities of a sojourn from the frolicking ursine that had been his nemesis on an overabundance of occasions.

Eyeing his sleeping-chamber it became apparent that he had, fortuitously, escaped such a fate. There appeared to have been no disturbance of his vestments, his head was clear (as much as it ever is) and there was no disturbing piquancy in his mouth.

This boded well for the day’s enterprise. The innkeeper had provided simple refreshments in his quarters and Sir Paulie drank his fill whilst reading the epistles which had been delivered to his desk, by dint of various enchanted devices and message birds, during the night.

There was adequate time to take his ease before the joust which was not scheduled to commence until somewhat after noon. Further refreshments were taken on the balcony overlooking the southern shores but the elements were somewhat inclement and thus Paulie retreated, once more, indoors.

It had been some hours since our adventurer had partaken of a repast and thus he engaged a coachman to transport him to the Meeting Place at a quarter of the noon hour. Arriving in good time, our hero, as is his wont, immediately made haste in establishing residence in the nearest inn which, not by chance, was also one owned by the clan of the Weathered Spoon. This tavern was of the name “The West Quay” but the furnishings were not as accommodating to our hero’s mighty frame being somewhat taller and narrower than those with which he was comfortable.

Nevertheless, the proximity of the establishment to the Meeting Place was of paramount importance and so Paulie persevered and ordered a repast and ale from a tavern wench and then, somehow, ensconced his self on a high stool with his feet a-dangling.

It was upon this precarious perch that Paulie took his fill of grilled pig and seared potatoes along with a brace of tankards of amber ale. Others of his company were somewhat late in arising and thus his broken fast was taken alone.

At an hour past noon, Paulie descended from his eyrie and trekked to the Meeting Place itself. There were no guards in sable uniform to bar his way and thus he came upon the Grand Vizier, Lord Richard of Prew, making preparations for the arrival of no lesser person than the Emperor himself and organising the multitude of heralds and town criers who wouldst spread word of the victories and defeats that would, perforce, take place during the joust.

In the fullness of time, the Emperor graced the pair with his presence and was warmly received by all of his subjects in attendance.

Truly, it must be said, that the Emperor was beloved by his people…all hail His Imperial Highness!

It had been whispered that the Emperor was of a mind to hold yet another series of jousts and other competitions during the sixth year of his reign and he was quizzed by Paulie and Lord Richard on this very subject.

“I cannot yet advise you on this.” he replied, “There is a great assemblage of traders in the coming days and although I have had conclave with many of them I have not yet decided how much to tax them in order that I may fill the coffers of my treasury.

I wouldst not wish to tax my subjects to hold these jousts as I am well known for being a beneficent monarch holding these jousts free of levy to those competing.

Nevertheless, I have many decisions to make in the close future and will issue a proclamation when the time is right.”

Seeing that further enquiry would be fruitless, Paulie and Lord Richard abandoned their quest for further intelligence although this was not done without some rolling of the eyes.

And thus it was that the joust began and Sir Paulie was placed in the lists in a field of personages unknown to him. Alas and alack, although he struggled mightily, with such weapons as were given to him, he was unable to progress against his opponents. Ever they didst produce double-edged blades of high value against him.

Nonetheless, Sir Paulie was not dismayed as he was a veteran, in many ways, of such jousts and knew that his time wouldst come.

He had one particular villain in mind who was somewhat tentative when raising to strike a blow but would also yield the field of battle if the opponent saw fit to raise a hand against him.

Thus it was with great joy that when this particular varlet didst follow his usual practice that Sir Paulie was joined by two warrior maidens. Knowing that the blackguard would, of likelihood, at best only be supported by a Mace’d King, Sir Paulie seized upon the moment and raised his mailed fist to the malefactor.

Much as Sir Paulie had hoped, the wretch didst commit himself fully to the fray, both combatants didst declare themselves and the game was afoot. For the brigand his joust wouldst be finished if he lost the battle but Sir Paulie would, although sorely wounded, undoubtedly survive.

The battle lines were drawn and the various strategies had come to fruition. Indeed, the villain had the expected Mace’d King and thus Sir Paulie was favoured in the match. However, it is oft said that the gods laugh at those who doth make plans and send the spriggan ‘Murphy’ to test the souls of the valiant.

At the turn of the tide, the villain called support from the King of another land and the warrior maidens fell under their overwhelming strength.

Sir Paulie reeled from the blow and retired from the field for a respite and to disseminate the news to the Grand Vizier and, it must be said, all those who wouldst lend an ear.

Refreshing his self with another tankard, the fray was once again sought, although Sir Paulie had only, mayhap, one third of his original strength.

It was, conceivably, only a few minutes into the continued melee that Sir Paulie was joined by two Monarchs of his own. Comfortable that, with this significant support, he would be able to regain his position of honour in the field, he didst raise his standard and entered the field of battle.

Sir Paulie was pleased mightily that a rogue had the temerity to raise their banner higher than his. With overweening confidence, Sir Paulie strode onto the amphitheatre and committed every ounce of his strength to the struggle.

His opponent didst agree to take the field and didst bring his own warrior maidens to the battle. Unquestionably, these maidens could not withstand the strength of the monarchs who had so prevailed against in Sir Paulie’s previous encounter described but a few moments ago.

Lamentably, the villain was reinforced at the earliest juncture by a third maiden and, as it has ever been, the weight of their numbers overshadowed our hero.

Resoundingly beaten, but with good grace, Sir Paulie congratulated the villain on his remarkable good fortune and retired from the field, sprinkling half gold pieces in his wake.

Good reader, our story is almost told. Sir Paulie drowned his sorrows with tankards of ale but his foul mood made him unfit company for those he held closest who were still enjoying their continued participation in the joust.

Famished, Sir Paulie engaged a coach to take him back to his vicinity of his lodgings and feasted at a local eating house specialising in viands from the far shores of Cathay.

Satiated, he retired to his accommodations to consider his ill fortune and to make plans for his annual pilgrimage to the jouster’s holy city, that Sodom and Gomorrah of the age, the City of The Fields, in the far western reaches of the Empire.

“My friends be assured that I there will be many other tales of Sir Paulie but, for now, your chronicler is done.”

The Saga of Sir Paulie II

APAT Brighton: Friday 20th January 2012

On the afternoon preceding the joust, Sir Paulie gathered his travelling bag and leapt into the saddle of his black stallion, ”Owdeeayfor” and drove the steed with a heavy hand along the great highways to the southern shores and the town of Bright on the Sea. Under the mighty charger’s hooves the miles flew by and our hero arrived at his chosen lodgings in the early afternoon.

Being a frequent traveller and well known in many establishments across the land, Paulie was owed many favours and had used some of these to obtain lodgings at the “Inn of the Holiday” for a mere 80 gold pieces for his two night sojourn and was greeted warmly by the innkeeper.

Grateful for the continued trade, the innkeeper offered him an abatement on the price for stabling his stallion which was most unexpected and warmly received.

The innkeeper had also made luxurious accommodations available to the good knight, and once again, Sir Paulie was grateful that his custom was being recognised.

The lodgings were spacious and featured not only a much larger cot than was the norm but also seating areas both inside and out, the latter of which gained the advantage of a view of the coast and access to the sea air.

Sir Paulie didst enjoin an artist to capture these scenes on canvas and these art provided for your delectation.

After dropping his travel bag and setting up his writing station in his room, Paulie took ”Owdeeayfor” to the stables and bid him rest. There would be no great need to trouble the beast for the period of the joust.

Once the animal had been settled, Paulie made his way into the heart of the Brighton and, in particular, the Inn of the Bright Helm which was one of many owned across the empire by the clan of the Weathered Spoon.

The journey was only a short one, perhaps one seventh of a league, but our hero was no longer young, and was, confessedly, carrying more avoirdupois than is generally considered healthy, and thus the walk didst take a toll on his aging joints but our hero soldiered on to the taproom where he had arranged to meet other companions.

Paulie knew from previous correspondence that he would not be joined in the evening’s frivolities for a few hours and took advantage of the respite to fill his, it must be admitted, copious stomach with a feast of the finest meats available. Now, it must be said, amongst his many faults, that Paulie was no stranger to strong drink and this occasion was not one for abstinence but then, with our hero, there were few occasions for abstinence.

Fortunately, Paulie had brought his magic tablet which allowed him to read any scroll he had in his library and so was able to while away the hours preceding the arrival of his companions whilst supping on many a tankard of ale.

Betimes, the day fell into evening and Sir Paulie’s companions didst arrive; first Lord Asa of McGrath and then Sir Laming of the Glenn. Whilst they were sharing stories of the travels, a small bird alighted to with a note clutched in its claws that Grant, Chief of the Speir Clan, [from the furthest reaches of the northern lands] had mislaid his crystal ball on dismounting his dragon and thus would be delayed. The note also gave warning that he suspected he was being trailed by a small, irritating, troll.

Once the company of fellows was fully assembled (including the troll who went under the name of DaveyPee) no lesser personage than the Lady Michelle de Gascoine didst come down from her ivory tower at the Queen’s castle. She had been much delayed due to taking fullest advantage of the extensive luxuries available but was not above joining in the merriment and badinage so prevalent at such gatherings.

The evening didst wind its way far into the night and Sir Paulie and Lady Michelle gained much merriment in mocking the ladies of the evening who didst flaunt themselves amidst the melee of the alehouse but as the witching hour approached the company didst commence to fall by the wayside.

Mayhap they were fatigued from the travels or overcome by their excesses but one by one the company waned until only Sir Paulie, the Lady Michelle and the troll didst remain and in the fullness of time even Sir Paulie succumbed to the rigours of his advancing years and, one must also suppose, the enormity of his suppage.

Though the night was blacker than a pawnbroker’s soul, Sir Paulie bid the Lady Michelle adieu and weaved his way through the thronging peasantry back to his solitary lodgings.

“This day's tale is told but, fear not gentle reader, there is story of the battle to come...mayhap on the morrow.” 

The Saga of Sir Paulie I

APAT Brighton: The Joust Is Decreed

“Between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis, and the rise of the Sons of Arius, there was an age undreamed of; when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world.  Hither came Sir Paulie, red of hair, baggy-eyed, map in hand, a traveller, a sage, a player, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the streets of the Earth under his booted heel...”

“It is I, his chronicler, who knows well his saga.  Now let me tell you of the days of high adventure…”

It was decreed that in the first month of the twelfth year of the third Christian millennium that a final great joust would be held to celebrate the fifth year of the reign of the High Emperor, Desmond “the Red” scion of the Great House of Duff.

The Emperor’s Grand Vizier, Lord Richard of Prew, did counsel his liege that his subjects would, of certes, rebel if the joust was held once more in the dark northern depths of his lands known as “The Black Country” and that he had received many an imprecation from his southern subjects to hold the joust in their environs.

So wise was the Emperor that he gave credence to the advice of his loyal and trusted vassal and thus a meeting place was found on the southern shores.

Notice of the joust was published across the Emperor’s domain. Only the bravest and brightest competitors were expected to attend. Nevertheless, word spread far and wide, being whispered in the dark corners of taprooms and secret gambling halls that anyone could enter could they but find the sum of 75 gold pieces.

Sir Paulie, our gallant hero, was well known to the Emperor and his Grand Vizier and was a frequent combatant in their regular jousting competitions. Indeed, he had travelled far and wide across the Emperor’s lands and was oft consulted on acceptable lodging and hostelries.

Sir Paulie was determined to make a good showing at this final event of the emperor’s jousting season and entered the lists with gladness in his heart.

It was of no great surprise that Sir Paulie wouldst throw his name into contention for the grand prize in this enterprise. It was well known that Sir Paulie was a mediocre jouster at best but was well enamoured of the entertainment in taprooms and dancing clubs that accompanied these events across the empire and was savouring the opportunity of another adventure in the company of other frequent combatants.

Sir Paulie’s coterie didst include Sir Gerard the Duke of Chester, Sir Phillip of Tompkyfish, Sir Stuart (Count of Wild Abandon) and the Lord Martyn and Lady Dawn of Jaxie and our hero was much dismayed at learning that so many of his friends would not be in attendance, perforce, by dint of duties elsewhere or other jousts at the same juncture but was glad that so many other of his acquaintance would be joining in the competition.

"...and thus I begin the tale of Sir Paulie and the Southern shores. I will have more on the morrow."

One Last Shot

APAT - Vegas Vengeance: Friday, 25th November 2011

After last night’s debacle I was determined to get some poker in on the last full day in Vegas. Considering the Mirage room was purely HE and It’s not my favourite cash game I decided to try the Venetian again despite the battering I’d been getting there.

Not that I got there until around 2pm. The beds at the Mirage are very nice too, perhaps not quite as comfortable as those at Harrah's but nice enough that I lazed until well after 1pm.

I tried to give the Venetian’s food court a go but the temptation of Stella got the better of me so back to the Grand Lux Cafe it was. The bartender recognised me...they’re kind of good at that and it does help that I sometimes have my name on my shirt. You may mock (and you have) but  it does break the ice sometimes.

Anyway, a very nice Reuben sandwich and a couple of Stellas and I was ready to get back at it.

I finally got into a game about 3pm and really hunkered down and ground it out. Within and hour I was up $100 and feeling much more comfortable but then the Americans all decided to head off for an early dinner and we sat short handed for quite a while.

This led to me dropping a few chips just in blinds but I was holding my own. When we finally got back to a full table when I got involved in a hand where I flopped a set with a low on the board and got into a raising war against to players both (I knew) playing the nut low.

Unfortunately the board didn’t pair and ran out all low and I had to let it go after pumping a significant proportion of my stack into the pot.

This depressed the living shit out of me but I wasn’t willing to give up on playing just yet. Battening down the hatches I played locked down poker for another few hours and by 11pm and 7 hours of play I was back over my starting stack and called it a night with a grand total of $62 profit.

I can’t say I’ve broken the back of the Venetian demon but it’s not looming over me any more.

So back to the Mirage for something to eat. I just walked past the queue of people at BLT Burger (who wanted tables) and sat myself at the bar.

A VERY nice turkey burger and couple of Bud Lights and that had me finished off. I went back to the room...no Pete but that wasn’t terribly surprising...he wandered in around 5am just as I was waking up.

So that’s about it really....the season finale of Paulie Does Vegas.

A few random thoughts just to round off.

Firstly, I realised in the can to McCarran for the flight back that I’d done this trip in reverse to my previous few trips. I’d normally do a week on the Strip and then relax off-strip for the second week. Consequently, I was somewhat more tired on this trip that I had expected.

Secondly, I took care of myself a little better than I have before, I ate properly...hell, very well, compared to just grabbing things when I wanted. I was only visited by the bear once and that helped too.

Being with a group is just awesome but it is nice to have some time to yourself.

I didn’t hit up half the places I had planned...I’m not worried, the occasion didn’t arise but I think you would have liked some of the choices, perhaps next time.

I’ve seem some discussion (already) about next year. I still maintain that late in the year (October to  December) is the best time...it’s not blisteringly hot, the weather, even late at night is still T-Shirt weather for Brits.

I have the first couple of weeks of November 2012 pencilled in but that’s likely to be another road trip from LA to Vegas (perhaps with a side trip to Laughlin). Still, that’s just the basic outline for now and it’s a long way off.

Peace.