6 July 2012 (Friday) - To Brighton
Once breakfasted the Folkestonians arrived, and we set off to Brighton. There was a minor episode on route. I was supposed to be leading the convoy, and so I periodically kept checking that the black car was following me. Having been following me for twenty miles the black car suddenly overtook and shot off. And the Folkestonians weren't in that car. It was the wrong car. They'd stopped for a tiddle twenty miles behind and lost me. I waited for a few minutes, but they never caught up. So I applied logic and thought that even if they were lost they would be more likely to find me at Stanmer park than in some obscure country lane. Funnily enough we arrived at Stanmer park at the same time.
We decided to camp about half way up the slope; being up it gave us a good view of what was going on, and it was (relatively) flat there. We got "Brown and Smelly" (the communal mess tent) together easily enough, but as we started putting out tents up, so the heavens opened. We got absolutely soaked.
As we grumbled about the weather so more of our number arrived, and once lunch was cooked we felt drier and happier. I put the banners up, and drank half a bottle of Dissorano for no adequately explained reason. More of our party arrived, as did the in-laws and lots of other festival-goers. In a spirit of joining in I even went so far as to open my kite bag and fly a kite.
Fajitas are always popular for tea, and they were washed down with home brew. I was quite pleased with how my home brew had turned out. So pleased that I had a second glass of the stuff to celebrate. I'm told there was port and cheese. I blame starting too early on half a bottle of Dissorano.
I staggered to bed shortly after 1am...