7 July 2012 (Saturday) - Brighton Kite Festival
Bearing in mind the state in which I staggered off to my pit last night I woke feeling amazingly raring to go. But over a morning cuppa we had some bad news. The last of our contingent to arrive had been delayed. Seriously delayed. Actually in hospital delayed. It transpired that a coffee-related injury had done for Terry. We spent much of the day anxiously awaiting updates.
Pausing only briefly to secretly feed black pudding to my grand-dog I got two kites into the sky. It sounds easy. It probably took me the best part of an hour to do. I then made my way to my post at the children's workshop where quite a few of us spent a couple of hours helping children make little kites which they would promptly get stuck in trees.
Once 3pm arrived we shut up the workshop, and I slowly made my way back to base. Slowly, calling in on many campers and caravaners on the way. There are so many people that I know through kiting, and I see them maybe twice a year at most. It was good to catch up with people.
I hadn't learned from my mistake, and had a another pint of Dissorano. It never seems that strong at the time. There was also Pimms going on, and I found that a slice of orange went very well with my home brew.
An evening meal of sweet n sour pork was well appreciated, but the rain (which had been on and off all day) was steadily getting worse. So much so that it completely stuffed my ability to get our camp fire going. So in time honoured fashion we retreated into out communal tent and drank ourselves silly. I'm told there was rice pudding....