So, after 5 long hours on the mini bus, made worse my Jack and Simon’s attempt at singing, and some seriously scary driving from Laurent in a desperate attempt to reach the campsite before the gates were locked at midnight, we arrived in Rhossili. Greeted by the largest amount of Old’s I have ever seen and a mass of tents the weekend began.
Saturday morning and the weather was good, so some of us headed down to the beach for a surf while others went climbing….May I suggest to the fair haired among us (Steveo) that sun lotion is a particularly good idea when the sun is shining.
In the afternoon, Tim, George, Ham and myself went looking for driftwood in an attempt to find the biggest piece. Feeling fairly confident when we got back to the campsite with a tree strapped to the roof, we were somewhat put out by the return of a van full of wooden pallets. Never mind, there’s always next year I suppose.
Evening arrived and the bonfire got going. Evidently the biggest bonfire the local chavs have ever seen, (if you missed them, Welsh chavs are portrayed pretty damned closely by GLC). It was an interesting night, George balancing on top of a pole amidst cries of ‘Burn the witch!’, pocket rockets setting the dunes afire (and nearly me thank you…you’re lucky it bounced off me and into the fire, I’d rather not end up like Chardonnay from ‘Footballer’s Wives’), fire hurdling (Roch you’re a natural stunt man)…
As if that wasn’t the limit to the fun someone, three guesses who decided it would be an ‘awesome’ idea to get the RPM for some sand duning….(thank you Steve for returning it, at whatever time in the morning that may have been.) Highlights of the duning were Aidan hammering it and kind of landing on his head (which didn’t look comfortable), and five relatively drunk SUCCers riding it down together.
Sunday was pretty much the same as Saturday and surfing, climbing or walking was on the agenda. It seems that walking is a lot more perilous than I thought when Mr. Vian returned with pieces of shell in his foot.
Surf was much better on Monday morning and some of us headed down to the beach to take advantage. For those of you who weren’t there, you missed Jack attempting to play in Simons boat and some amazing duo action (I don’t think it was designed to take the weight of both George and Jack, who spent more time in the water than the boat.)
After a surprisingly little amount of faff we bid farewell to Rhosilli by flinging a tub of butter across the campsite by a very rustic see saw.