The fragility of life

The weekend just passed saw him (and the long suffering but still lovely Dennis) descending on the North Devon coast to go camping with Christine, Chris, Nigel, TCO (formerly known as TEM), Dafydd, Polly, Pop the Dog, Jarman and Dogs to celebrate Christine's 22nd birthday (again).

The campsite chosen prides itself on being a quiet family site and does not welcome rowdy groups and so a note entirely existent group known as the Society of Hampstead Inverterbologists, Trekkers and Entomologists (SHITE) was created for the occasion to provide a patina of respectability.

With Chris, Polly, Dafydd and Pop the Dog arriving early to set up camp matters were well advanced by the time he and TLSBSL Dennis arrived to tuck into the booze and giggle at Nigel's ineptitude at tent erection.

With a pretty cheeky wind blowing through the campsite nobody was going to stay up late on night one and so it proved with the group all tucked up in bed by 2300.

Saturday morning saw some sterling breakfast creation efforts from Chris, Jarman, Dogs and others and an enormous feast of bacon, sausage and fried eggs was churned out until everyone was bursting at the seams.

With the group safely fattened up they hit the beach at Woolacombe for some seaside fun and frolics. Dafydd and Polly went surfing whilst the rest of the group took advantage of the three kayaks that Jarman had brought with him to enjoy some kayaking in the surf.

Our hero ballsed it right up. We have received a guest submission on that subject and it will be published shortly but all your correspondent can say is what a blithering idiot.

Some beach cricket followed, rather ruined by some over enthusiastic fielding from Pop the Dog, before the party kicked off at the campsite before moving on to the crazy town that is Coombe Martin (population 5) the journey into town was via the medium of Jarman's white Van leading to some rather odd stares when the contents were disgorged.
Having enjoyed the sunset every drinking game known to man was crammed into a 2 hour period and some serious quantities of drink were consumed before the group returned to the campsite at which they were asked, politely, to "Shut the fuck up you bunch of moronic twats". Charming.

Another first class feast of a breakfast followed for Sunday morning before as the group started to break up some of them went for a little walk. An ill advised further exposure to the sun for our hero might be a better description who is now seriously burnt.

A first class weekend with first class chums. Shame about the near death experience and the sun burn.