It’s a little retro and a bit passé… beer (brewing and drinking), camping, eating, hugging trees, kiting, fishing, ironing, hiking, geocaching, wherigoing and munzing, painting (oils, emulsion and gloss), ranting, recording history as I see it. Days with family, days with friends, days with granddogs. Always an opinion (always wrong), and rarely a dull moment. Welcome to my world... remember - history is written by those who make the effort to write it.
Together with Brian we got the train to Hastings. ‘er indoors TMphoned just as we got off the train. Where were we? I said we were going for a pint of lunch, and she said she’d join us. So we walked up to the FILO where they had a beer festival on, and ordered two pints of the house mild. And then my mobile went. Her exact words were “how far have you got?”, so I replied “half way through the first pint”. What she actually meant was “where are you?” – I’d apparently said I was going to the kite flying before going to the pub. I don’t know why she’d ever have thought that. But soon she was in the pub with us. Together with friends from far and wide, including Kev with whom I went to Boys Brigade all those years ago.
After four pints of the mild, we thought we’d brave the beer festival selection, and had a storming pint of something black from a barrel, before going back onto the mild. At the gallon point, it was time for chips, and so to the Blue Dolphin chip shop where we met up with more friends and more family. Suitably fed, we then joined the thronging thousands to cheer the bonfire procession.
Hastings bonfire procession can be a bit of a scrum. It’s quite easy to lose people in the crowds. Especially when you are part of a party of nearly thirty people. And even more so when (for no adequately explained reason) you are feeling the need to tiddle every few minutes. But the procession was fun, the fireworks were good, and I think (hope) I managed to say goodbye to everyone before sleeping all the way home.