Granite Shocker

Aberdeen 2 Dundee United 2, but wait until I tell you what happened on the way home....

In Kurt Vonnegut’s wonderful novel Cat’s Cradle, the supreme deity of the mythical religion Bokononism opines to adherents that “peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.” I’d never really seen the wisdom of that statement, until I found myself stranded in the lounge bar of Sleeperz motel in Dundee at 9pm on a Sunday night, having missed Call the Midwife, with 8% phone battery and no deodorant. Such is the joy to be found in trying to complete the Scottish 42. Yet it had all seemed so much better only a couple of hours before as I gorged myself on deep lungfuls of fine fresh Aberdonian air, as the home side came back from a seemingly hopeless 2-0 deficit to snatch a point in injury time against Dundee United.

Being honest, the whole day was great. Up early and presented with a sturdy bacon sandwich by Shelley, who had amazingly backed my insane desire to tick off Pittodrie on a Sunday, I caught the 09.13 train with no hassle at all. In fact, it was a completely stress-free journey up there, with an almost empty connection from Waverley to Dundee, before picking up the Queen Street to Aberdeen Inter City. Arriving at 2.20, it was clear we’d been behind the overwhelming mass of travelling Arabs as I stepped off the train in the Granite City, to find the station almost deserted and the few folk that were around showing zero interest in the football that was about to take place.

I’d been to Aberdeen once before, in August 1981. Aged 16, this was to be my last family holiday where, for no apparent reason, my parents had hired us a cottage in the small, if not insignificant, Banffshire town of Keith, located halfway between Inverness and Aberdeen. Looking back, it would have been an ideal location from which to explore the rest of Scottish grounds I still need to visit, even if at that time only Aberdeen were members of the SPL. Keith, frankly, is a no horse town, even if they are in the Highland League. There really wasn’t anything to do there, other than read books and swat away midges. I did get some classic records from shops in Aberdeen and Inverness though: “Release the Bats” 7” by The Birthday Party and from an incredible closing down sale, I harvested Beat Rhythm News (Waddle Ya Play?) by Essential Logic, Wall of Noise by Doctor Mix & The Remix, who were once Metal Urbain, and Public Image’s Metal Box in vinyl form, as Second Edition. The whole lot for a fiver. Amazing eh? Still got them as well.

No time for record shopping today, but I did pass the seminal gig venue The Lemon Tree in my taxi to the ground. I did remember that Pittodrie was basically at the end of the road by the sea, but didn’t know the distance, so I erred on the side of profligate caution. Walking back, as ever, I realised it wasn’t so far, certainly once the one-way system was excluded from the equation. A quick browse round the club shop showed me there were no fridge magnets available, so I settled for some branded air fresheners for Shelley, before taking my seat in the ground. I was in the last seat in Block A of the Main Stand. Unfortunately, Block B was right next to it, in the middle of the row, so I was fairly hemmed in. Not to worry; Pittodrie is a bloody nice-looking ground. Perhaps a little shabby and in need of a quick makeover, but as good as Rugby Park or Fir Park, as well as being considerably fuller than either of those. Dundee United, whose noisy fans impressed me both at home against St Mirren last August and away to Kilmarnock in the cup about 3 years back, had sold their allocation and kept up the volume all game, despite their side virtually capitulating after the break.

The Dons fans were less voluble, but very nicely spoken as is their accent in these parts. Swearing also wasn’t a common theme. Perhaps it was being in the Main Stand. Perhaps it was the Sabbath. Perhaps it’s because their team were woeful in the first half, going in 2-0 down from two preventable close-range headers. They just didn’t say much at all. There was another Arab effort disallowed for a tight offside call as well, meaning the loudest part of the early afternoon was the storm of ferocious booing that greeted the half time whistle. Dons’ manager Jimmy Thelin must have given a miraculous team talk as his side absolutely obliterated Dundee United after the break. Scott Nisbet, ex Hibs and on loan from Millwall, has been in poor form of late, but he pulled one back on 75 minutes with a delightful finish. The Arabs retreated further and further back, their boots almost scraping the sand behind the Beach End, but looked like holding out, until Nisbet pounced in injury time to give the Dons a deserved share of the spoils from an excellent, fast-paced encounter. Though part of me wishes I’d been at Easter Road seeing the Hibees crushing the Jambos again, restoring the natural order so to speak.

At full time I enjoyed the walk back into town which was almost geometric in its use of very straight roads. I caught the 17.45 to Glasgow Queen Street with ease, full as it was with both sets of fans, though there wasn’t a cross word exchanged between them all. I changed at Dundee for the 19.13 to Waverley and that’s where the fun really began. On alighting I had a theoretical 18 minutes until my connection, so I went to TESCO for some refreshments (8 cans of Tennents). On returning to the station, I was met by a teeming multitude streaming away from the trains. A ScotRail employee informed me “there are no more trains south of Dundee tonight.” This was an extremely troubling situation for me, as the connections I’d booked were the only ones that would allow me to get to home, that night.  Subsequently, I became aware that staff sickness in the Fife area caused this disruption, however this was not communicated to any of us, who were also physically prevented from accessing the help point on the platform. The ScotRail gadge informed a restive knot of unhappy travellers that the company would not be running replacement buses “for hours” and that it was each and every passenger’s personal responsibility to make their own onward arrangements. In retrospect, had I known, I could have stayed on the Aberdeen to Glasgow train, changed at Perth and made my connection, but news of the delay wasn’t communicated to me.

The situation in the station was chaotic. There was no information. Staff were unhelpful. Someone called the Police. The two world weary Cops who attended were very helpful and informed me and a couple of others headed south of the border that we were probably stuck in Dundee. I didn’t know where to get a bus from. I even thought of a taxi to Edinburgh, but the Uber app stated I wouldn’t arrive in Edinburgh until after my train had departed. The Police suggested we ought to book rooms in a hotel and stay in Dundee overnight. This was as a cheaper option than going to Edinburgh and getting a room there. Thus, I booked a room as Sleeperz, which cost £37.40 and bought snacks and toiletries from TESCO amounting to £6.75, as I had not been expecting an overnight stay. 

And then I got hammered in the lounge bar of Sleeperz, unable to leave the place because of my flat phone being on a charger I borrowed from reception, before snoozing through Calendar Girls and snapping back awake to watch Sportscene and the glorious events from Easter Road. On Monday morning, shaking off a hangover and breakfasting on sachet coffee and complimentary shortbread, I entered Dundee station and managed to get to speak to the station manager, someone called Simon. He performed heroics and got me on to the 11.09 direct LNER service to Newcastle, arriving at 14.00 and allowing me to stagger in the door an hour after that. I’m currently in negotiations with ScotRail about compensation, as well as looking forward to heading to Elgin City v Spartans next Tuesday, March 11th.