We left Canterbury and headed the 40 miles as the crow flies or 500 miles as the roads go to Southampton the next day, I managed to break apart the bike enough to get it in the boot, so we didn’t have to carry it around on the back and set off through the convoluted path that is the roads in the South East. We arrived in Southampton about 11:00 in a wonderfully warm day. We checked in early and parked up, and then headed out at to the train station. The “New Southampton” is a big shopping park, with internal shops and loads of car parks – its okay, but reminded me of being abroad somewhere, things weer a little unfamiliar. We got to the train station and after faffing with tickets got on the train to Winchester with 30 seconds to spare, and within about 15 minutes we were at Wincester, coming out of the station we had no idea which way to head, so out with the sat nav, and five mins later we were heading for the town center. We found a pub which was yet another “oldest pub” to get a little light lunch and then had a look around. We saw the Cathedral, the had a look at “the oldest working mill, in the world”. Opposite the mill was a pub with a terrace garden next to the little river – we spent the entire rest of the day there.
We thought we might eat in Winchester, but by 7:00 no one was hungry so we just had another beer in a crappy place and got the train back. Then we went over the bridge into “Old Town”. It wasn’t very old.
We decided to treat ourselves to a picnic in Tesco (well be bought it in Tesco, we didn’t think it right to eat in) and back to the hotel. I felt a little dodgy, but managed to eat me sandwich in, then I went to sleep, no idea what Kate managed to eat.
Next morning and off to Starbucks for breakfast for a change, I had a panini as it had free pop-crisps, and then we went to get the ferry over to the Isle of Wight. The woman in the ticket office told me the cheepest ticket was £51 for the three of us, so we hummed and harred for a bit, then I noticed we could have a family tickey – so I said “How about the family ticket” and she said “okay, that will be £31” – stupid people. We caught the fast boat, which leaves about every half hour, and the crossing only took 25 mins or so – really speedy boat and a great crossing./ Before we knew it were were in the Isle of Wight and in Cowes, two days before the Cowes Week Regatta – not that you would have know.
We crossed to East Cowes on the (free – brilliant) chain ferry, and found nothing of interest there what so ever, so came back after a few minutes, and went to catch a bus. First stop Newport, which seemed just as dirty as the real Newport is. Then a bus out to the monkey and owl sanctuary – which was okay, but it was so hot the monkeys couldn’t be bothered to dance for us – even when we shouted at them. Kate stroked an owl, I just took a picture. Another bus – back into Newport, just time for Kate to have some cheesy chips and me to have a beer, then we were on another bus to travel 15 miles and one hour. Not great. Then we arrived at the Needles, which are some rocks which stick out from the west side of the IoW, only the Needles is actually a tiny Blackpool full of horrors. We went on the cable car which really made my day, down to the beach after being queue jumped buying the tickets by millions of foreign people. We got to the beach, saw the Needles in the distance and came back up again watching in mock surprise all the hats that had been blown off cable car riders.
Luckily the bus was coming in 20 minutes so we stood at the front of the queue, perhaps slightly keener than we should have, at one point I thought a bloke was going to stand in front of me, so I prepared my amazing put down I was going to fire at him, but he must have sensed it coming as we shuffled off in a waft of sweat. Bus came another, one and a half hours to get back, and more annoying, selfish morons on the bus and we were finally back at Cowes and could have a beverage. Caught the next available transport out of there and returned to Southampton. We found an Indian, and sat and had a beer and some really quite nice grub. Sian thought it was cold there, I was fine, so we swapped and then they turned off the air con.
Next morning we set off in search of Hungerford – we found it.
So the cycle was over, around the M25 (sort of), 180 miles and three days – starting and finishing in Windsor.
As the Sunday was a short day, about 40 miles, we arrived back in Windsor around 13:30 and I left Greg to cycle the 40 miles to Paddington and Dave went back to the hotel to get himself home. I met up with Sian and Kate in the Royal Oak, a pub we had had a brief pint in three days ago just before the first day of peddling, and I was relieved to take my shoes off for the last time. Quick Peroni, and then we walked back to the hotel to collect the car and settle in for the journey to Canterbury. I went to collect the ticket from the reception – expecting a charge, but he just said – Click the button, so thirty quid saved there and safe, secure parking for the bike. Stuck the bike on, and poured myself into the passengers seat for the journey to stop No. 1.
M25 was rubbish, and I found out after than I am a crap passenger, Kate told me that I was grasping the door handle for dear life and muttering and sucking in air all the time – well I never. Couple of hours later and we finally arrived in Canterbury in the rain, they dont have their own car park, so we parked around teh back so I could check in, it was a nightmare – about 20 minutes in the queue of just two people, with one old biddy trying to book some rooms for next Feb – idiot. IN the end the counter girl told her to go and sit down and she would sort her later. Checked in and with knowledge of the car parking we unloaded.
Me and Kate carried the bike and all our bags upstairs to a decent, standard Premier Inn room, and th chauffer arrived shortly. We dossed for a bit, then headed out where we found it was raining again, so we got wet. The start of Canterbury is crapolla, its like a seventies architectural dreamboat, but we found a little street and then a pub – ace. Then we had a little look around and some of the rest of it was okay, and we managed to fins a pub or two as we decided which place to eat – I won.
The Royal Inn was the place of choice, which isnt a pub, and the royals weren’t. It was a chinese with a very odd Chinese woman in, she was like something from a sitcom – who wanted to talk to you but then either didn’t understand or was just not interested in any response – we ordered loads, she even said “That’s enough” as I went through the menu, but it was hot and tasty and the tso went down well. We were the only ones in there and she seemed to make out that they were only opening late for us, so don’t know what was happening – but we left and home to bed – I was shattered.
Next morning and we headed off to Burger King for breakfast which I loved, after finding the car was still there for Whitstable on the East coast – I was expecting Tenby, is was worse, quite a lot worse, but the weather held and we had tea in a tea house and a beer in a beer house – the pub was called the Prince Albert and once Kate found out what a Prince Albert was she could only say “WHAT??”. I needed fish and chips badly, so we went to the only one on trip advisor which was open, and it was okay – big fish and pretty tasty, but nothing to write home about. On the way up there I had a cream cake – but it was synthetic, and all the flour fell off it onto my engorged belly – not great.
They had a sea there too, which they paddled in for a short while and a harbour bit with a fresh fish stall which was expensive – we went back.
Had a better look around Canterbury in the afternoon, and had good intentions to walk the wall – but it poured down, so we went to the pub. After the pub again we had to think about what to eat and we went to a nice little place for supper. I had the pizza which as I am wierd was dry because I dont have sauce, but it was a decent enough place. Then to Tesco for chocolate and water and then bed.
Next and final morning we congregated in the pub garden and as we waited for Dave we sang 32,546 bottles of beer on the wall then all set we headed off for Maccy D’s, by this time the seat was getting a little uncomfortable, but we knew it was the final 35 miles or so, so fully fuelled we headed over to St Albans.
As GD was to navigate himself to Paddington that afternoon, we let him lead the way – that lasted for approx. 45 seconds before he missed the turning and Marrsy was back in charge. A run around the North West of the M25 and back down to Windsor was a tranquil if hilly day. Any hill on the last day is bigger and badder than the rest, but today was quite up and down, and a couple, especially one, was a real grinder. When we arrived at the hill, there was a bloke in front on a tandem, on his own, legs pumping to get it up this steep incline, his partner walking up and only just making it. It seemed really steep, but it was only 13% according to Strava – I annihilated Dave on this hill (well Strava tells me I was 3 seconds quicker!)
Before we knew it we were just outside of Windsor and stopped in a little pub for a beverage and a bag of roast ox, it was nice.
And that was it, Nick Marr left us here to catch his train from Maidenhead and we continued the four mile to Windsor – at one point we discovered that Dave is shit scared of cows, but other than that we were back into the town and GD left for his 40 mile jaunt into Paddington (and he made it – well done him) and Dave went back to the hotel to collect his bike, and I met Sian and Kate in the Royal Oak where we pretty much started this years escapades.
In all another great cycle trip, I will need to make notes next year as I just cannot remember most of the cycling, but a huge thanks to Marrsy for being the navigator, the map creator, the tool chest, the mechanic and the voice of reason, Dave for giving us time to relax before we set off anywhere and GD for giving us time to relax after every hill.
Next morning, and we had the Premier Breaky – we were supposed to meet up, but for a change GD was late – he had a room on his own, and we were a little concerned, but bacon, sausage, omelette and juice soon put pay to that. Marrsy did need to know what was happening, as we had text GD a number of times – Marrsy found him waiting for us in the lobby – 20 mins later than agreed, with no phone (he keeps it switch off) and also no room key. He had breakfast.
After finally getting back into his room, which was booked in the name of Brend – which GD didn’t realise, we assembled for day two. Whilst waiting for Dave we re-wrote the London tube map in a novel and exciting way to represent not only the actual course of the lines, but also their relationship to shops that sell loom bands. He arrived, we departed.
We used Boris’ super cycle highway to get out of London, which was quite good, other than we are a little thick, and once we finally got to the edge of town Dave had a breakage. We spent quite a lot of time trying to fix his chain, well, when I say we, I mean Marrsy did, Dave did highlight his annoyance that as he was still he was only getting a tan on one side, and after some time we thought about how we could get to a shop for a new chain. Then Marrsy mentioned that he had one in his magic bags. So after another couple of minutes we were on our way. Behind schedule we zoomed from the town and into the countryside, pausing occasionally to admire the view and allow poor old Mr Triathlete to catch up on his mountain bike, and before we knew it we were in a little place, called something I cannot remember (Faceache says Havering Att Bower?) for grub. Nice beer and a great beef sarnie – then before we knew it we were on our way again. The day ending up being about 65 miles which was a surprise but it was mostly flat (I think) and it all blurs into one. A couple of times I thought I would try to save Marrsys legs and took the front, every time I had to slow down because the route changed, or even at one point I had a puncture (first one in three years) – so in total I probably managed about 5 mins.
At one point during the trip we passed some children on bikes, up a slight incline, only one of the team managed to make it, as we were about to congratulate him, he stopped to wait for his mates, and instead of putting his feet down on the road he slowly tipped over towards the verge – only the verge was actually a big dip by the side of the road and he did a comedy fall into the brambles, branches and nettles – one shouldn’t laugh, but one did ;o) Dave did stop to help but he was okay, other than some nettle rash and a slight dent to his pride, it must have been tiredness but I couldn’t stop chuckling at the muppet. Although God paid me back by giving me the puncture a little later. We also went passed a long road of very exclusive houses in Brookmans Park – some very decent places there…
Then we were in Hatfield – checked in and I sat in the gardens waiting for the team to get themselves sorted – which they did – then Dave came along after we solved that all nontrivial zeros of the analytical continuation of the Riemann zeta function have a real part of 1/2 – on half a dozen beer mats, which unfortunately we forgot to collect when we left, then into Hatfield proper. Hatfield is a hole. The only bar we dared go to was inside the Mall, so after a couple we headed over to the Indian, where Dave introduced me to an African Beer which was nice, and although the Vinderloo had a health warning from the server, it was mild – but quite tasty. A little walk back and it was time for bed again.
Here we are again, another year in, another 6 pounds heavier and another year on the old and weary legs. Cycle 2014 had been arranged as usual many months in advance, and yet with a week remaining we were unsure who would attend. Dave had a great excuse (well one that was better than the other) in that he was looking to move house just about when we set off, but Big Bad Brend had only just realised that he alone thought we were going on a completely different week to the rest of us. How the hell does he survive? So Brend decided that he would prefer to mooch around North Wales with his new bird, and spend time with her family than to take on the might of the M25 cycle – he chickened out basically. Dave however found that he could skip off whilst the packing was being done, and still be home for the opening ceremony of his new house.
So on Thurs, 24th July, and a little earlier than usual I needed to get off the work phone early and head up to Windsor. GD had sorted out a train up to Magor, so I had sent him directions and was expecting him around 11:00 – some time aft this he appeared at the door, looking slightly more windswept than I would have expected given the three or so mile short cycle to my house. I then found out he had been on the road for about ten miles, so the forensic examination of how in gods name he managed that began. The route was easy – come out of the station, hit the main road, go left pass some things like the green shack and turn into our street. I just could not understand what had happened – so we looked at his map – odd, no Severn Tunnel Junction. Then I realised, the numpty had actually gotten off at Newport station and then followed my instructions from Severn Tunnel – no wonder he couldn’t find the Green Shack… How he managed to get here with no instructions I have no idea, but he did – well done him.
After close down and a quick toastie, we spent three hours trying to get the bikes onto the bike rack – with a watching Tesco delivery driver chuckling to himself – by the time it was sorted I already had a sweat on, and was glad to get into the car. The journey began……..
An eventless couple of hours saw us arrive in Windsor, although, as if to set the scene, GD did take over navigation for all of one minute and directed me to a road off a round-about which didn’t exist, even though I think that he still believes it was there, but before we knew it we were at the Holiday Inn in Windsor. Got the car in the underground car park, booked in a couple of rooms and waited for the team. Not long after we arrived we had the surprise guest of Phil “Lippy” John, who came down for the night to ease himself into the possibility of one day getting on a bike. We had a beer.
Marrsy then arrived a very short time later, after taking a refreshing sweat shower as he had to cycle forty miles on everyone elses day of rest. He came down from somewhere else and looked a little warm. Oh yeah it was actually a nice day, which makes a dramatic change from our normal cycles. We tried to contact Dave, we couldn’t.
Once showered and unpacked we headed into Windsor proper, and after a pleasant stroll we made our way to an absolutely amazing pub (even if I say so myself, which I had to because they didn’t like it – it was “too hot” for Phil and too expensive for the rest of us) down by the river where we had a couple of tasty beverages. We managed to contact Dave, and he would be late (a little more foreshadowing of things to come) so we wondered off for more beverages. At this point people were being a little sensible, pints of water were had along with the alcohol, food was being mentioned, but we managed to steer the conversations to another pub as we waited for Dave. Next pub, up a little alley saw more unusual lagers, GD was still on the cider though at this point, and we grabbed a table in the evening warmth and drank some more. Dave finally arrived about <sometime later> and as we can’t decide on anything we had food in the same pub. Dave was quite annoyed with the fact he couldn’t have a chicken burger because me and Phil had double chicken burgers and there was no more chicken – which was odd, what was odder was that we even offered to split one double to two singles – but they don’t work like that in Windsor for some reason. Another pint, and sat nav to get home – that didn’t bode well for 180 miles of navigation with no signs.
The Night Before
UP early doors, ready for a get away of 9:00 prompt, and Dave and GD were late – Greg didn’t look too clever, and he had discovered that Aspall Cider doesn’t really agree with him, and he was a little tender. Did’nt stop him getting a hearty breakfast down his neck.
9:00 and we were all assembled, well when I say all I mean everyone bar Dave. We waited for a while, then a while longer, then he appeared – woo hoo we can leave, oh Dave hasn’t got his bike out yet. So we waited. Then at some time after 9:00 we were ready. Then Dave disappeared again, then we had a photo, then Phil left and we began – it wasn’t raining.
Just before we left
First part of the day was through Windsor and out towards Reigate and Box Hill, we were all raring to go, if a little hung over, but we had a load of bottles of H2O and we were doing it man. Marrsy was in the lead, which was a sign of things to come and we made good progress towards Box Hill. My memory not being as good as it was can’t remember anything about the trip other than it was mostly on roads and we only went wrong once – well, that was the only time navigator admitted it. We had a bit of a hill in this section, and descended nicely into Box HIll station and I stocked up on Fruit Pastels ready for the infamous Box Hill.
Box Hill (did I mention this place?) was something I was looking forward to with trepidation, I thought it would be a killer, it wasn’t. It was quite relentless, but not too steep and we motored at around 8 or 9 miles an hour, luckily I was just keeping onto Marrsies wheel and didn’t see anything other than his tire, the whole way up. After we were cycling for about 20 minutes I was getting a little pooped, but then amazingly we were at the top – easy peasy lemon squeezy. But Dave and GD were no where to be seen, so we paused in the shade and tried to contact them. After about ten minutes we finally got through and they had had a puncture about half way up, so had changed the tube and were on their way. After another ten minutes we were reunited, we were bored, so when the other two arrived we pretty much kicked on, unfortunately for them, but we figured they had their rest half way up.. ;o)
A few miles later and it was time for a lunch stop, we found a nice pub on the main road, and got some squash and Miguel in and ordered some nosh – the storm clouds were brewing. As we had our drinks, they said it was going to rain – I didn’t believe them, it couldn’t, the curse of the cycle was coming back to haunt us – and me being an idiot had forgotten my “wet” jacket. It rained. Alot.
Luckily we were awaiting food, so we sat inside in a warm and musky room whilst the weather went mental outside. Thunder and lightening and torrential rain, but we were cosy – for now. We mostly had some sandwiches, but loaded guy had a Prawn and Lobster Linguine – which looked pretty good I must admit. After tipping the waitress twenty quid Dave was almost prepared. So we filled out bottles and sat on our bikes in the rain, whilst Dave had a pedicure. I was a little wet and cold for the next few miles, but then we broke though the storm and the sun put his hat back on and it was nice again. The second half of the day was quite a lot of up hill – up to Crystal Palace, and a couple of confusing moments as we neared London. We managed to get a route to Tower Bridge from some exceedingly friendly Greek drunk and as we fought the traffic into London the rains came again – a lot, we were almost there, but by the time we made it to the Premier Inn we were soaked, again.
Great hotel, great shower, and they gave us complementary shower capes and we arranged to meet a little later for drinkies. We met up and whilst waiting for Dave we investigated whether we thought 78,557 was the lowest Sierpiński number and re-created the proof for the Binomial Theorum. But then he arrived – hurrah.
The rain had stopped and we managed about 200 yards before the lure of the pub was too much, so we gave in. Then we walked some more, and Dave and GD decided to go off for some sightseeing and to take some pictures of each other. They were frolicking like two Italian lovers. We used the super interweb to find another pub. We went there.
It was German, and they did Steins, I didn’t have one, which I will regret for the rest of my days, but we did have a nice drinky. Then we wondered over to Wagamamas which I had never been to before, it was quiet so great and the food was well received. Then the boys went to the pub, and GD scuttled back for an early night. Then bed – pretty knackered.
Anniversary No. 7 – 20/07/07 was the wedding day, so seven years on – what’s that itch?
As part of our annual trek we have the wonderful opportunity to go away for a night without anyone but us – that is such a pleasure. Although it’s great to go away with others, a day on your own is something to look forward to, this year it was the Cotswolds. I looked and looked and looked for somewhere to go, but due to lack of planning, the top choices were booked, but Nailsworth, as it happened, was a good choice all round…
So we set off earlyish with the knowledge that it was going to rain – and boy did it. Got as far as the bridge and the rain started, of the M4 at the Stroud turning and the rain was a little persistent. We traveled down the smaller road following a guy who was pootling at 40, once he turned off I put the foot down and within 2 minutes was aquaplaning across the road – realising the error of my ways I was back at 40. The trip was okay, a little scary at times, and I wouldn’t have liked to have cycled it, but it was soon time to get into Nailsworth – it was raining.
Went to tell them I was there, but we couldn’t check in until three, it was only 10:30, so we had some time to kill. We walked around the village, me with my umbrella, and Sian with her little coat, I was dry(ish), she was wet, she even went to look to get a brolly – she didn’t. By eleven the pub was open, so we went for tea and coffee… Not saomething I would normally do, but I felt like it was too early for a beer, although I was reminded that any time is a good time 5 minutes after we got there when the first bar-fly appeared and ordered a pint. After tea, and a read of the local estate agents paper we set off for the walk to Woodchester – a few miles on the cycle track, saved by the trees – 35 mins later we arrived. It was raining.
I had a plan for a pub, but not knowing exactly where it was we questioned an idiot from the village, and next thing we were in a nice little pub in South Woodchester – the Ram Inn. It stopped raining.
After a beer and a wine we contemplated food, but decided to move on to the place I had in mind. It was raining.
We walked for father than we wanted to, but then we got to the pub, on the main road and it was nice, they served beer and faggots (with extra gravy) and delightful chips – so we stayed and watched the <clarkson> biblical rain </clarkson>. Then it stopped, I had a chat with a local about chips and Chinese and the cost of the Severn Bridge, so we took the opportunity to walk back. It was raining.
Sooner than we thought we were back at the Egypt Mill, and checked in. Great room. Next thing I knew I was drinking the worst Peroni I had ever tasted in a great little spot outside the mill. It was sunny.
After that god awful drink we set off back to the only pub we knew, the tea shop we started the day in. This time we were very grown up and had peroni and cider and black, and another, and another, and another. At one point I bought the drinks and could have sworn my Peroni was a cider – I thought that rather look like a plonker, not knowing the difference I would ask the boss the check – she told me I was stupid.
After quite a few rounds we decided to get an Indian, after canvassing the locals we went to the “Balti”. It was empty, apart from people getting a take out, I had a lamb Vindaloo for a change – it was lamby. Good thing about a village is it is never very far to home, and after a little walk in the dark we were back. Nice night was had, and before we knew it, it was Sunday.
Shower was ace, separate toilet was useful, and the breakfast was great – other than some stupid child running around like a child, and another couple sitting next to us when the entire place was empty.
Went up to Stroud in the morning, and its quite a nice place, although the canal is crap, and then came home – knackered.
Good place, nice time – Cotswolds are generally great…..
What on earth is a RIAT you may wonder, and assuming you are not an aeroplane nerd you may not have heard about it – it’s in RAF Fairford and it is the Royal International Air Tattoo – and I went this year.
Evening before was supposed to be a careful one – it wasn’t – although not too much, just two much – and we were up and at ’em at 5:00 the next morning – shattered. Paul told us that there would be queues and I hate queues – so the idea was to get there early, before they started. We got there early – they had already started. Not sure what it was like later on, but the traffic was great until a few miles before, then because of a junction up ahead and some stupid police, there were queues. Also, not helping were a couple of selfish idiots on horses on the road – causing problems. Anyway – in not too long a time we got there, parked up with my front wheel against a cone and retrieved my squashed hat from the car.
As we walked over to the gate I was aware that most people had various picnic items, like umbrellas, chairs, cool boxes, camera’s some people even had little trucks to carry their gear in. I had a hat.
Once trough security it was the first visit to Andy Loo’s, which Kate thought was quite amusing – and past some planes. There were a lot of planes on the ground, and some helicopters and loads of simulation machines. And loads and loads of people staring at these planes and helicopters, taking pictures and gurning, and some even writing numbers in little books. I know people need a hobby, but these were adults for goodness sake – although there were a higher percentage of odd looking people here also.
I was starving at this point so sought out the food place and got a crappy hotdog, not realising that further down the airfield were more places, the next place was actually called something like “gormay sausages” so I missed a trick there. We continued walking and walking – the runway was long – until it was time for the planes to take off – we just missed the start, but got a virepoint for the first plane – a Vulcan I think – it was very impressive – the rumble from the afterburners was exciting, the power and maneuverability of the thing was very cool – I thought this might actually be fun. The next plane wasn’t so good, nor the next, or the next, or the next, or the next, or the next. We had found a place to sit, and it was a beautiful if a little hot. Lunch was well received – I had a burger, which was dry – but quite tasty, and then a pasty which was hot and tasty – I was so full I even saved the end of the pasty for later.
After lunch it was decided we were to move on, and unfortunately as we walked up the 50 mile runway we missed the Apache and its pyrotechnics and the Grippen – which was very impressive. Obviously we could still see the things as they were in the sky, and that is up in the air, but we didn’t have a good relaxed view – which was a shame. We camped down on the grass again, and watched the Red Arrows and some team like the Red Arrows but in blue, then another group like the Red Arrows but with Breitling written on them. Then before we knew it, it was time to go home. So we went.
Unfortunately as I pulled away I heard a little *tsschink* and didn’t think anything of it, but the steering was flabby and pulling to the left – I thought a puncture, so got out to look – didn’t seem to be – but the noise continued as I went around the runway, so I stopped again. Tires looked okay, but as they are stupid run flats its not always obvious. Looked under the car – nothing, then I notice the cone was stuck in the wheel arch. I tried to remove it, and some kind soul stopped to help. Sian and I had not though rationally for the first 30 seconds, so he just said – you need to jack it up and take the wheel off. Good idea dude – but no jack.
Luckily he flagged down a passing cone man, who in turn called an AA man who was on site, and he jacked the car up, and with a quick “left hand down” the cone was removed – woohoo!.
Quite liked the airshow, but it wasn’t really my bag – even though I did enjoy the day- probably won’t rush back – but when I do, I shall take a chair.
Sian’s birthday this weekend, so instead of going off somewhere special we went back to Pembs… Not that going back to Pembs is bad…
Friday night was Hawaii Five-Oh night, we were supposed to sit outside in our hawaiin stuff – but it started to rain at four, as soon as Sian got there – so we braved it for a short while then had to take our gear inside. Sian was on the Pimm’s as were a lot of the others, I stayed on Stella – as I know where I am with that, well I know where I am until I have had five of them, then remembering where I am becomes more and more difficult…
So the night wore on and people came and people left and the Pimm’s went down and new jugs were bought and many people had a giggle at whether they wanted a lai or not, and the Stella went down and down and down.. Then it was drunk o’clock – or to be precise just after drunk o’clock – or actual about seventeen minutes after drunk o’clock and we went home. I was tired, I wanted to go to bed, but chinese was on display and people, so I sat through it – with a “pissy face” as I was told the next day.
Saturday morning, and a little worse for wear we set off for sunny Pembrokeshire – okay trip and we found ourselves having a massive load of chips from a chippy in a petrol station, with great views into the countryside. Unusual, but okay – greasy food is just want you want with a hangover – maybe not quite so much if you are going “Wet and Wild”…
Down to St julian – just off St Davids and down to the sea to wait for the boat under the lifeboat station. Slightly confusing as we were not really greeted and sort of stood around for a bit. But eventually he came, took us out a little way and lifejacketed us up.. The jet boat goes quite fast and its rather exciting bouncing through the chop – unfortunately is was a very calm day, and pretty much on slack tide, so not as bouncy as it might have been. Near the beginning he gunned the engine and headed straight to Ramsey Island, doing what felt like 60 miles an hour into a sheer cliff-face was a little unnerving, but with meters to space he stopped on a tenner, and swung us around. We saw some birds, and more birds and some cliffs and some seals, and some more birds, and the bitches and more birds and lots of seals. We bounced and giggled and shouted and smiled as we jet boated around – Sian lost her shoe at one point when half the ocean came in (it was chilly) and the people opposite resuded it. We went in caves and saw more cliffs and at each stop point I was feeling more and more sick – it was hot when not moving, so the sickness rose, but before it overflowed we were off bouncing through the sea again. Just before we finished he took us to see some porpoises – Kate was in her element, it was nice.
Later on we all went down Little Haven for some nosh in bow ties and tiaras – and saw the sunset.
Next morning we were up at four, yep four in the morning, to head out to Plumb Stone “Mountain” to watch the sun rise. It was cold and quiet and surprisingly light. The sun came up. We went for macdonalds breakfast at 5:30.
Back home and over to Tintern for a walk, a couple of beers and a game of cards – then home, Chinese and bed. Knackered.
