Turkeys voting for Christmas….. PHOTOS
Anyway, the decision was taken to have Christmas at Burton, so the ii troops rallied (no pun intended of course) to the cause, by making the ii Christmas so memorable for many reasons. Peeps trimmed their tents with tinsel and baubles, a Christmas tree which compared very favourable with the annual gift presented to the people of the UK by the people of Norway was lowered into position, and faffer-in-charge for the weekend, OAJJ, organised things so we all ended up with a full Christmas dinner, whether we wanted or not….
Arriving late Friday afternoon, I was greeted by AVT who with typical Welshness firstly decided not to recognise me, and then started speaking in Welsh – thought I was back at Tenby for a minute, until I spotted Munchkin, and knowing that he doesn’t travel well (would you with Eileen driving?) decided that I was in the right place. The ii camp was well established with a row of benches for diners to sit at and enjoy (?) Saturday’s feast, and the usual myriad of tents. Big thank you to the shoe people, Big N and the Cads for turning up on Thursday and getting the site and tables organised.
Friday saw the usual suspects arrive through the evening, well I would’ve done had I not been in the bar enjoying The Jamm. After a quick glide around the dance floor in the Northern room, it was time to crash out and wait for Santa. Luckily, I missed the impostor who arrived at 4 in the morning complete with little helper, though to be fair it was easy to spot the doppelganger, as he’d got no red on him – not even a working rear light – tut James, and even bigger tut for bringing Dunney to a rally late.
Saturday started bright and fine, Eileen showed us that she’s got a human side and didn’t cook brekkie, so we all enjoyed our repast in the clubhouse. The rest of the morning involved milling about, looking for lights & levers on the parts fair, and asking OAJJ when dinner would be ready (though only once!)
Before dinner, the ii 5-a-side team wiped the floor with a bunch wearing Forest shirts – well 7-6 on penalties is wiping the floor in Leicester terms. Dunny declined an invite to play for fear of splitting his DMs which are allegedly an heirloom passed down from either Uncle Fred or Uncle Barney…still he did a sterling job as manager and coaxed us through a difficult finale to the game. Unfortunately, we were having us dinner when the next round took place, so were scratched from the tournament. The clowns from Hinckley (who we were due to play) took great glee in laughing at our misfortune, but we of course didn’t laugh when chief clown Branno tumbled over in the bungee pull and hurt his shoulder – though the saying about revenge being a dish best served up cold springs to mind for some reason.
While we were off playing footie, dinner was gradually, and I do mean gradually coming together, although there was the unexpected delay when DJ Jazzy Jeff made an 11th hour dash to get roast tatties. Dinner itself was fantastic giving the cooking facilities – Laura did us proud by ‘borrowing’ a saucepan from the kitchen (who’s daughter??), and at the appointed hour – which felt like Sunday, but wasn’t, dinner for 45 was served. For those of us who accidentally on purpose left their plates at home, there was no respite as other peeps had brought spares, so we all tucked in. To be fair, dinner was excellent, and much appreciated by all, so a big thanks to chief faffer-in-charge and his band of little helpers.
After dinner, the kids were left to wash up – a Christmas tradition that all grown-ups there were all in favour of. However, another tradition bit the dust when our queen failed to make the customary speech, probably cos he was busy making sprout soup at the time, and cos he isn’t sure if coming out at Mersea was such a good idea after all. Various peeps passed round port and champagne, choccies and biccies, before the arrival of Santa who needed no introduction , and no padding…anyway, Santa emptied his sac (yuk!) over the table, we all got pressies for our trouble, and then settled down to chill away the rest of Christmas.
The do on Saturday was ok, though I didn’t stop for too long as it was unbelievably hot – so hot in fact that the fire alarm spontaneously went off, emptying the hall mid-session, although it did give the girls a bit of eye candy when the firemen turned up. Joking apart, this is one rally tradition that we could all do without, it’s the kind of thing that loses good venues…
Sunday was the usual pack up and go routine after saying our goodbyes – except to Big N who as usual was up and gone before many had got to bed. An excellent weekend, never in the field of a scooter rally was so much turkey eaten by so few..ii
I-Spy