Perranporth 2005

The Freshers’ Fayre had been a success, the welcome meeting went well, despite Chav “It would have been fine with cordial” Mike vomming after half a pint of co-op snake bite. Many new people had been introduced to the Itchen, and said hello to new skills at the pool session. The time was ripe, to show them what a SUCC trip is all about!

So it was that we all met on an unseasonably warm Friday night at the boat hard. Despite most people being new to the trip thang, Faff was average, and we were well on our way by 6.30. The bus journey was interesting. My first time driving on a trip, and Tim Ripper navigating for me. It’s his route home, no worries I thought. However, news of traffic jams on the A35 lead us to taking an alternative route. On missing the turning to Salisbury, we ended up on minor country roads for a sizeable portion of the journey. There is now no doubt that I can handle a minibus like a pro! A chip stop at Honiton later and we arrived just after closing time. Bugger. Oh well, straight in to the drinking games then….

I don’t claim to remember details of the night, which is usually a sign that everything was successful. The freshers were mingling, the olds were drinking Woke™, all was as it should be. Until one or two people had a little too much. Both toilets had a vomiting person (both sexes represented), but Dickie chose the female toilets in which to letch offer valuable moral support. I think I nodded off just after a topless Dickie called someone a tw*t at 5am. Sounds about right.

Saturday everyone woke up bright and early as is usual on club trips (!). Bacon sandwiches all round and to the beach! ‘Twas a lovely sunny day, so no one was in much of a rush. Much faff later and many people are enjoying themselves on the water. Fresher fishing for the committee was most enjoyable, but did lead to me discovering my dry trousers hold water in better than they keep it out. Doh. Dickie woke up much later than everyone else, but still managed to be first in the water, opting for the lightweight paddling kit of just boardies. On asking him “Dickie – are you still perhaps a little bit drunk”, he replied “battered”. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is dedication.

After the majority are surfed out came the obligatory tea shop visit. Dickie and Thom lead the Freshers’ (using a High Vis jacket – safety first kids) to the retro 80s café, for some Tomato Soup and Ice Cream (Steveo, it’s called Flitwick’s restaurant, and is the finest purveyor of Tomato Soup in the UK – Dickie). Er, of course. This then lead to a walk up the picturesque hill side. It is at this point Dickie and Thom stripped the Freshers’ of their names, giving them all numbers instead. A game of “Getting to know you, learning to love you” involved rolling things at them, and asking questions. I’m sure it was truly special, but I went for a pasty and sunset body board instead.

Saturday night, and everyone is again enjoying a beer or two, in the fine establishment that is the Green Parrot. There is a bit of an olds/youngs divide, until a game of I have never commences, and some olds join the youngs to see what the excitement is all about. I seem to remember most of the I have nevers being quite unsuitable for a pre-watershed publication, and that Number 8 aka Juvenile Delinquent was at the heart of the more scandalous admissions.

Back to the hut for further drinking, no vomiting this evening from my recollection. Instead many walks in the fresh air down to the beach. An extensive hilltop walk lead us to a new mini-bay slightly further down, requiring only slightly dangerous pissed rock climbing to reach. Back to the hut, and more drinking ensued. A Perranporth tradition, the vicious pass the parcel was commenced. I don’t fully remember the details, but I seem to remember Dickie and Laurent (sorry, I don’t know his number) rather enthusiastically swapping clothes (and getting very naked in the process). Another forfeit of note was the particularly brave Elly Pryce taking a shower with a semi-drunk Damage. Respect!

Towards the end of the evening/start of the following morning a few of the more artistic SUCCers formed a bit of a band. The original components being a reasonably talented guitarist and singer. However, the alcohol flowing in many peoples veins lead them to believe that what the duo truly needed was some accompaniment on the pots and pans. Hmmm, I went for a walk, and when I came back all was quiet. Except Dickie. Again.

Bright and early again Sunday, and down to the beach. Apologies if this is beginning to sound like an extended version of Tiny Tim (Mike no vomiting during this please). Much surfing again, some body boarding too. Dr.Matt found himself a lifetime companion, but tragically lost Inflatable Ingrid in a fatal Duo incident. May she be deflated in peace.

A fine journey home on the minibus, made only interesting by an obscenely long stop at Bridport, and the fine musical choice of Beth and Tim, including French language Disney songs and some Vengaboys. No finer driving music I say.

A good trip had by one and all.

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