8 August 2013 (Thursday) - A Walk with the Girls
Last night we missed a treat. Every August in Hastings there is a pram race. It's become something of a tradition - teams of people in all sorts of fancy dresses race round the Old Town cheered on by tens of thousands of lookers-on. And for yet another year I missed it. Mind you my cousin was rather scathing about the aftemath of the event this morning, She told me that when she drove her daughter to work at 4.30am "The old town was in a dreadful state from last nights pram race! absolute carnage! broken bottles rubbish and all sorts like a sea across the place. and i know everyone was having a laugh etc.. but is it so difficult to put stuff in bins? People with their heads in the gutter and silly tarts half dressed staggering home! kind of ruins what I hear was a good night."
There's no one likes a pint more than me as anyone coming camping over the next few days will testify. But I like to think that I don't leave wreckage for others to clear up. Why do people do this?
I wasted far too long slobbing about on Facebook this morning. With er indoors TM" still asleep I couldn't pack my clothes for the weekend. So I out the lead on to "Furry Face TM" and walked him round to Cheryl's where we picked up Cheryl, Lacey and Lacey's mate Lexi. We then went for a little walk out through the Godinton estate. It was a lovely day for a walk. We walked up to the river, we were scared by the sheep, Lacey found one or two geocaches. By the time we got back to Great Chart we were all rather thirsty so we popped into the pub. Seven pounds for four soft drinks!!! I would have had a beer, but it ran out half way through pouring. Advertising five ales on the boards, they had none. I was told that there was a delivery due, and they would have ale soon. I mentioned that I was under the impression that barrels needed time to settle. the young lad behind the bar looked at me blankly. Oh well, one more pub to add to the "avoid" list.
Home again to find er indoors TM" had had a haircut. "Daddies Little Angel TM" and the Rear Admiral called on a flying visit to talk beer for the weekend. I then did the last few bits of packing and spent the rest of the afternoon fiddling about. Eventually the evening came and we set off to Maidstone. There was a conglomeration of geocachers (what is the correct collective noun?) scheduled for 8.08pm on 8-8-13 at junction 8 of the M20. We arrived and chatted with friends old and new. These cachers meetings are always a good chance to catch up and gossip.
There was an interesting five minutes in the queue of McDonalds where a rather overweight simpleton from behind the counter demonstrated the shortcomings of putting those of restricted common sense into positions of responsibility (no matter how limited the responsibility). Far from drumming up trade, her attempts to streamline the waiting times merely offended the assembled throng. I nearly laughed out loud when a rather irate Essex-onian nearly punched overweight simpleton up the bracket.
The plan for today had been to go up to Teston and start our camping holiday. This year the management had decreed that the weekend starts on the Friday, not the Thursday. I had been sulking about not going off on holiday today. As it turned out today was a rather good day...