Though one of my favourite places to visit on the league map it was a trip to far this season and it was going to be a relaxing weekend.
Then, six weeks ago, the German announces she's off to Greece with a mate and, well, no harm in looking at the rail fares.
Seeing as my last lottery win was ten quid there was no way I could afford the ridiculous fares that form of transport was paying and being exiled the supporters club coaches were not on and national express didn't have football kick-offs on time when they planned their timetable.
However........no I'm too old, but it was cheap. There was an overnight coach to Newcastle leaving London Victoria at 23.30 and getting to the Geordie capital at 6am for only £7, a single to Carlisle £12.80 and an 18.24 back to London King's Cross direct for £23, 600plus miles for under £43, better than a kick in the head, possibly.
The sting in the tail as I ended my first week of a new contract was my friendly colleagues insisted it was an honorable company tradition to celebrate surviving the first five days by everyone visiting the pub.
I never drink before an overnight journey, the hangover is far too bad, it will ruin the next day, mistakes are made, but to refuse would look bad, I have to spend six more months with these guys, it would be rude, "OK guys, just a couple".
Six pints of Doombar and a large malt later I fell onto the coach, luckily getting a front seat to stretch my legs, but I did feel sorry for the pretty little Asian girl sitting next to me for the next 6-and-a-half hours, I must have looked the older safe guy, poor thing.
Just have to make sure I don't wake up in Edinburgh!
Tyne Bridge: Doesn't look like this at six in the morning
Newcastle at dawn, and spitting with rain. Fall into the train station fifteen minutes off the coach, all thoughts of a walk around the town gone.
Decide to get the 8.24, in at 9.50. Buy a Starbucks, sit in the opened Burger King, there were people eating bloody Whoppers, they make them tough up there, find a corner, fall asleep.
I've got to Carlisle many ways but never on the Hadrian's Wall Country Route and you've got to love a line that stops at stations called Haltwhistle, Hexham and Prudhoe.
Hadrian's Wall: Would not keep the Scots out nowadays
I've got time to kill, they run an hourly service, why not get off and take a look at one of the UK's great attractions, I mean it was built to keep the Scots out, what's to hate? Train leaves, fall asleep.
So what to do in Carlisle at ten in the morning? The heavy rain promised, I was told by Carlisle fan Moorlad, had fallen the night before and now it was windy with just a touch of rain in the air.
Saw my first yellow shirts having breakfast in one of the Weatherspoon's while I decided it was the Griffin right next to the station for me and a fiver spent on two of everything and a large coffee.
The cook wouldn't win masterchief but it didn't make me feel ill which was remarkable considering all of Cornwall's finest I'd drunk before.
Noon, time to try a beer again, a touch nervous, went into the Weatherspoons further down Boozergate, the Woodrow Wilson.
And knock me down with a feather, 18 months after my last visit they still had the local beer Cocker Hoop and Sneck Lifter on tap. There was no way I was having the very strong latter, so it was a pint of the 4.5% golden ale Hoop, up from £1.69 last April to £1.75 this time around. Outrageous, haven't they heard there's a recession on.
Must visit another hostelry and deciding to miss the obvious charms of the Border Rambler, again, I decided to give the Cumberland Inn another chance.
Now 18 months ago I wrote, 'I felt like I'd walked onto the set of Night of the Living Dead', about the place, a touch unfair Moorlad told me, so in I went.
And out again.
There were the same regulars, I don't think any of them had left, maybe they couldn't survive if they did, a strange race of Cumbrian vampires.
Went back to the Wilson and the safety of the Cocker Hoop, phew, never had a Weatherspoon's felt so safe.
Couldn't take any more beer but they had that very nice welsh whisky they've been plugging for a while now, and as much as I hate to say it, it's very good.
Well, I say no more beer yet I was off to meet Moorlad in the rugby club and being a stocky Cumbrian boy there would be no way I could get away without a couple of pints of Yates in the local rugby club ten minutes from the away end, and I didn't.
As he tells me he played rugby union in the position of hooker and did his bit in the services, didn't think I'd mention the advertising job and the marathons, didn't seem to compete, but great company, stories of Collymore and Beardsley as Wolves were holding Villa to a 1-1 draw on the big screen.
Shame another Carlisle poster Kynson couldn't join us, he'd decided to watch his local team Workington get hammered by Rushden and Diamonds in the cup, maybe next season, if we're in the same division!
So I knew the game would go by quite serenely which it did and you can read about it here, it seems weeks ago now:
And if you must, here's all the highlights once again:
We were unlucky, great team spirit ect. ect.
What's gone on since the game makes it little perverse to write about something as simple as an actual football match, yet it's what gets us up every week and hopefully I'll be meeting Yorkshire exiled Shrimper Man in a Suitcase in the Head of Steam before Huddersfield.
I've bought the rail tickets so I'm going, hopefully to see a game, and maybe not looking at 23 other teams above us as well.
Everyone did their bit, Laurent looked as if he could be starting to find some consistency, I thought Mildenhall did really well in the conditions, young Herd was dangerous with those throws and shouldn't be punished for one piece of poor defending, then again with the size of our squad nobody well, luckily O'Keefe looks promising.
Barrett: A True Blue
It's Captain Adam though who stands out week in, week out for me. With him and Tilly still around at the Hall, there's still hope.
A tough defeat to take but remained philosophical over a final pint with moorlad back in the club as he was magnanimous in victory.
The walk to the station seemed to take longer than usual, I think the weekend was finally catching up with me, yet could just about order some fish and chips on the Warwick Road.
A bit of a shock when the 18.24 was not on the timetable, find out it was a Dundee service that was being diverted to Carlisle because of engineering works. Had to laugh, two weeks later and no cheap train, so probably no Carlisle trip.
After the pleasure of a few very foul mouthed Doncaster fans, you wouldn't have known they'd actually lost to Newcastle, I settled down to return south with Bruce Springsteen for company. Fell asleep.