camping, AFP style.
Sep. 2nd, 2009 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
burntcopperA silly, relaxed weekend on a campsite near Hay-on-Wye. Where I managed to not buy a single book on the trips we did go into Hay.
Get there on thursday, set up, lie around, drinking real ale, playing of stringed instruments (it happens. As do electric ukeleles.) and gossipping. With occasional hiding under the gazebo when the rain set in and trips to the pub attached to the campsite. Me and Gideon chased Kaiser a few times in an attempt to get him to the right field and reunited with his daddy. Adjourning to the pub for food that evening... we ordered at 8:30 and didn't get our food til 11. Unbelievably gorgeous food, but this did set somewhat of a precedent in that pub for the weekend. Getting back from the pub turned into amateur astronomer hour - we were so far out that we could see the milky way and had real difficulty finding the constellations because all the other stars were so bright. 'Er. Where the hell is Cassiopeia? I know it's around there somewhere...'
Most of the others arrived friday, so much setting up of tents, arghs of people who forgot tents and sleeping bags (Hunter and Random's trailer tent collapsed, but fortunately they did find a mammoth tent stored in the base of said trailer). Met Willow. Possibly the world's most adorable and dumb rottweiler, who believes that Eric is only safe in company when sitting down. Sadly, we had to share the campsite with a bunch of chavs who decided that the 11pm curfew was a reason to get really pissed, play their music unbelievably loud, and sing and yell equally loudly out of tune until 3pm that night. After four of us had individually asked them to shut up politely, and one case of shrieking. We weren't amused that the next morning, the RAC van turned up because they'd run their car battery down (with added attempting to force the door and smashing of windows). Honest.
Saturday morning, we got revenge with electric ukelele on the chavs and their poor ickle hangovers. Musicians Guild out in force. (you can't really stop them) Decided to go follow the stream that goes through the woods - many tunnels and paddling. Got back, where there was a lot of sunbathing. Headed up to the pub for the BBQ. Where it turned out that two of the staff hadn't turned up, which combined with Barbara the landlord's natural disorganisation, meant that Meg ran the bbq to make sure everyone got fed, a bunch of us pitched in as waiting staff, and then became bar staff (Jen and I having no experience behind the bar, and thanking the FSM that Suzy did, Barry and Gid taking over from us after a few hours, who did). what was a bit a scary was that a lot of the punters didn't seem to realise that we weren't staff, just spectacularly but entertainingly incompetent (well, me and Jen, anyway - one quote being 'Ladies and gentlemen, the blonde has managed to completely miss the ice shovel that was in front of her face'). Also somehow agreed to provide a jam session for the entertainment. Discovered that the Musicians Guild now apparently has an alter ego of 'Asp Jam Session' as advertised on the sign outside. Lots of singing along, and discovered who one of the more tuneless and non-lyrics-knowing chavs had been (seriously, how do you get Edelweiss and Do Re Mi wrong?). Oh, and treated to the sight of an animal even more stupid than Willow. One of the buzzards managed to fly straight into the very large bright white permanent structure that was one of the water tanks on the edge of the wood.
Sunday, lots of pottering, and when a bunch of them buggered off to the pub to play Munchkin, we discovered Barry had somehow snuck behind the bar again and worked it for the rest of the evening (he did get paid). Barbara once again overwhelmed when it came to the buffet, so cue the wait staff, glasses collectors and kitchen helpers. We're considering putting it on our business cards. Singalonga campfire in the woods, with lots of Tom Lehrer, Flanders and Swann, and Joss Whedon. Not to mention the other campfires, who'd previously been singing along to their stereos, all joined in on Mud Glorious Mud. Attempted to sacrifice teenager. Failed.
Monday, I did not want to discover that a way to feel warm for the morning is by having a cold shower (everything else is positively balmy after that). Large amounts of people packed up. The rest of us were very silly with cameras.
And Tuesday went home. Photos up later.
Get there on thursday, set up, lie around, drinking real ale, playing of stringed instruments (it happens. As do electric ukeleles.) and gossipping. With occasional hiding under the gazebo when the rain set in and trips to the pub attached to the campsite. Me and Gideon chased Kaiser a few times in an attempt to get him to the right field and reunited with his daddy. Adjourning to the pub for food that evening... we ordered at 8:30 and didn't get our food til 11. Unbelievably gorgeous food, but this did set somewhat of a precedent in that pub for the weekend. Getting back from the pub turned into amateur astronomer hour - we were so far out that we could see the milky way and had real difficulty finding the constellations because all the other stars were so bright. 'Er. Where the hell is Cassiopeia? I know it's around there somewhere...'
Most of the others arrived friday, so much setting up of tents, arghs of people who forgot tents and sleeping bags (Hunter and Random's trailer tent collapsed, but fortunately they did find a mammoth tent stored in the base of said trailer). Met Willow. Possibly the world's most adorable and dumb rottweiler, who believes that Eric is only safe in company when sitting down. Sadly, we had to share the campsite with a bunch of chavs who decided that the 11pm curfew was a reason to get really pissed, play their music unbelievably loud, and sing and yell equally loudly out of tune until 3pm that night. After four of us had individually asked them to shut up politely, and one case of shrieking. We weren't amused that the next morning, the RAC van turned up because they'd run their car battery down (with added attempting to force the door and smashing of windows). Honest.
Saturday morning, we got revenge with electric ukelele on the chavs and their poor ickle hangovers. Musicians Guild out in force. (you can't really stop them) Decided to go follow the stream that goes through the woods - many tunnels and paddling. Got back, where there was a lot of sunbathing. Headed up to the pub for the BBQ. Where it turned out that two of the staff hadn't turned up, which combined with Barbara the landlord's natural disorganisation, meant that Meg ran the bbq to make sure everyone got fed, a bunch of us pitched in as waiting staff, and then became bar staff (Jen and I having no experience behind the bar, and thanking the FSM that Suzy did, Barry and Gid taking over from us after a few hours, who did). what was a bit a scary was that a lot of the punters didn't seem to realise that we weren't staff, just spectacularly but entertainingly incompetent (well, me and Jen, anyway - one quote being 'Ladies and gentlemen, the blonde has managed to completely miss the ice shovel that was in front of her face'). Also somehow agreed to provide a jam session for the entertainment. Discovered that the Musicians Guild now apparently has an alter ego of 'Asp Jam Session' as advertised on the sign outside. Lots of singing along, and discovered who one of the more tuneless and non-lyrics-knowing chavs had been (seriously, how do you get Edelweiss and Do Re Mi wrong?). Oh, and treated to the sight of an animal even more stupid than Willow. One of the buzzards managed to fly straight into the very large bright white permanent structure that was one of the water tanks on the edge of the wood.
Sunday, lots of pottering, and when a bunch of them buggered off to the pub to play Munchkin, we discovered Barry had somehow snuck behind the bar again and worked it for the rest of the evening (he did get paid). Barbara once again overwhelmed when it came to the buffet, so cue the wait staff, glasses collectors and kitchen helpers. We're considering putting it on our business cards. Singalonga campfire in the woods, with lots of Tom Lehrer, Flanders and Swann, and Joss Whedon. Not to mention the other campfires, who'd previously been singing along to their stereos, all joined in on Mud Glorious Mud. Attempted to sacrifice teenager. Failed.
Monday, I did not want to discover that a way to feel warm for the morning is by having a cold shower (everything else is positively balmy after that). Large amounts of people packed up. The rest of us were very silly with cameras.
And Tuesday went home. Photos up later.
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Date: 2009-09-02 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 04:27 pm (UTC)