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| TALBOT TWITTERER |
| June saw the start of lots of events that seemed to run on one from another. First one was Poole when Hopton's invited some of us to their little do. This was a one day event for Poole Grammar School for it's Summer Fete. The camp site was a few miles away in a picture postcard village called Tarrant Monkton. The camp site was attached to the local pub called the Langton Arms. Very chocolate box. Our motley crew got to camp in the beer garden. It was here that Al Fresco's Breakfast Club was inaugurated. The clientel was joined by some of the local birds, (feathered variety I hasten to add) Two highlights that weekend. One was being treated to Dinner by "Mon Capitano" the other was I found I was no good at driving a submarine. The Royal Navy had their display trailer and you could pilot a submarine which I tried to do. I was ok at the diving bit but when told to surface to 30 feet all the darned sub would do was dive deeper. So I did the natural thing and jumped out of the seat and handed over to a young boy. Well kids these days are more techno minded than us oldies aren't they. Next event was two weeks later up in Manchester. Well Wythanshaw Hall to be precise. Abiding memories of that was Cabbages, Flies, Max the Mechanic and the night guard on my tent. The official guard tent was quite close to my tent it was easier for those on guard duty to sit outside my tent and still see who entered our campsite so that's where everyone collected and consequently stayed right throughout the night. Al's brekkie bar opened up under the old oak tree. Well it was the only shady spot. (who said it always rains in Machester?) Everything was going great, max slicing the mushrooms, me cooking the bacon and Shelley the eggs, then Dave M came and informed us that Brassie (our cannon) was due on the field for the Drill Display. The musketeers did a great job of making coleslaw when they blew up the cabbages. Flies, they ate just about everyone. I thought I had got off scot free but no. On the Monday blister one came up on my lip. Max the Mechanic. Oh that was trying to repair Jenny's exhaust. It was only thanks to one of Blackwell's who just happened to have a trolley jack in his vehicle. The repair lasted all the way until Reigate. The Battle at Battle Abbey was fairly uneventful except I nearly went down this hole. Max (that man again) didn't realise how deep it was until he put his leg in it. It turned out it was a deep fox hole. The abiding memory of Battle was the last night on the Sunday. Of the few people who stayed over most came round our camp fire and a jolly good time was had by all. The singing was second to none. |
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