Saturday, December 24, 2011
Further Christmas Ramble notes
Frog says,
Yeah! But I don't care, I'm taking 2 of my alter egos (flip flops) to keep my pinkies warm on those flagstones and to keep my sox piss-free. I have also thought about plastic bags for that taxi drive home and have 4 separate sets, 2 from Tesco, 1 from Sainsbury's and one mystery set. Bring on the mud!
ps drat oh double drat I've lost my "A Nerd is not just for Christmas" badge, but I will be sporting another famous one.............
Yeah! But I don't care, I'm taking 2 of my alter egos (flip flops) to keep my pinkies warm on those flagstones and to keep my sox piss-free. I have also thought about plastic bags for that taxi drive home and have 4 separate sets, 2 from Tesco, 1 from Sainsbury's and one mystery set. Bring on the mud!
ps drat oh double drat I've lost my "A Nerd is not just for Christmas" badge, but I will be sporting another famous one.............
Christmas Ramble Joining Instructions
Subj: Tomorrow's Xmas Ramble
Looks like we might get away with some dryish weather tomorrow - but the going wil be soft! See you all at Vics on Lewes station.
SB
Looks like we might get away with some dryish weather tomorrow - but the going wil be soft! See you all at Vics on Lewes station.
SB
Friday, December 23, 2011
NERDS’ Ramble No. 264 - 22/11/11.
Those Present - Froggy, Lafayette, Sandyballs, El Paco.
The “Philby’s Birthday” Ramble.
Today was the anniversary of Philby’s birthday (who? You may ask…..well he was Belgian or something and would have been 60 if he had still been alive. - Poor Philby, cut down in his prime before being allowed to retire.) Anyway we all thought that this occasion at least was worth a drink…and since it was rambling day….
Froggy was in his last week of freedom during which he was under sentence of death for sporting a haircut like that of a hedgehog. The sentence was due to be carried out at Brighton Hospital next week, and the NERDS were all keen to know what he wanted put on his gravestone and whether he wanted to be planted next to said Philby in Seaford cemetery. ( Shame Froggy wouldn’t be able to retire and get his pension either, especially after all the fuss he had been making about this recently.)
But enough of Froggy, our thoughts were on Philby that day and what a fantastic, responsible, reliable team player he had always been who literally had to be forced by the NERDS to take any form of drink, such was his sober, upright, Calvinistic, protestant upbringing. Many suspected that he might actually be gay since you never actually caught him talking to, or even looking at girls. He seemed to be only interested in that boring sideline of his, that of running a little bodega or grocer’s shop somewhere, although the premises seemed to be some sort of secret and moved around a lot.
However to the ramble. It was a dull, shite type of day with rain threatening and the NERDS got on the train to Berwick after the compulsory second breakfast at Vick’s (as was) at Lewes station.
Berwick happened to be next to the Berwick Arms by good fortune so we piled in there and had a couple of pints while oggling Miss Milf who served the beer. Pity Philby was almost certainly gay otherwise he might have fallen in love with her like Froggy did; but anyway he would have been too shy to even look at her (you remember how he was with girls). She was indeed something - but enough of this NERDish lust and back to the ramble.
Destination today was chez Pete at the Yew Tree at Arlington.
To do this, and to get there before all the Old Trouts in Sussex, we had to circumvent the reservoir so we went the short way round, ie. the right hand side, and were disturbed to notice that the reservoir was really low in water. Hope they’d have enough to enable the local breweries to continue to function.
We went over the river on the rickety rackety bridge where B.T. used to dance on the railing (but survived) and then into Arlington itself. True to form, Pete’s car park was full of cars - always a bad sign (for us), and when we got in there the place was crowded with nice old people. We fought our way to a table and were greeted by Pete in his usual bonhomious way; he still thinks we are something to do with Customs and Excise (as if..)
But at least he doesn’t poison our meals.
You can see why the Yew Tree was so popular. First of all the decorations were stunning, it had three Christmas trees, it had tables full of miniature snowmen and lots of tinsel and stuff hanging from the ceiling. Added to which the meals, of course, had huge helpings and were really yummy. To celebrate Philby’s birthday we all had a mega dessert of Belgian icecream covered with the contents of a miniature bottle of Baileys. Philby would have been proud of us (if he hadn’t been so gay - and dead) but at least we thought about him (a bit).
Lunch over we returned over the rickety, rackety bridge but saw no trolls or B.T.s (surprise, surprise) then back round the reservoir where we were pursued by a sea monster and latterly by vampires - it getting on for dusk an’all. Amazing the restorative power of a few drinks!
So we took refuge from all these strange apparitions in the Berwick Arms once again where Froggy regaled us with tales of how he used to frolic around with his playmates in the sandpit of the Tuileries gardens in Paris (bet he was a psammead - go google it!). We humoured him and plied him with more drink since he hadn’t got long to live anyhow, and we all promised to read his book when he was dead and look after his widow well and drink all his drink stores etc, so he felt better after that.
And so the end to another ramble in which we comforted Froggy and remembered Philby. Next month is the Christmas ramble when we can remember both Froggy and Philby, and think about Bronco and perhaps B.T. ( are you coming over for this, B.T.?)
So best of luck with your execution on the 1st, Froggo. Can I have your stamp collection, please?
Love to all.
Lafayette.
Those Present - Froggy, Lafayette, Sandyballs, El Paco.
The “Philby’s Birthday” Ramble.
Today was the anniversary of Philby’s birthday (who? You may ask…..well he was Belgian or something and would have been 60 if he had still been alive. - Poor Philby, cut down in his prime before being allowed to retire.) Anyway we all thought that this occasion at least was worth a drink…and since it was rambling day….
Froggy was in his last week of freedom during which he was under sentence of death for sporting a haircut like that of a hedgehog. The sentence was due to be carried out at Brighton Hospital next week, and the NERDS were all keen to know what he wanted put on his gravestone and whether he wanted to be planted next to said Philby in Seaford cemetery. ( Shame Froggy wouldn’t be able to retire and get his pension either, especially after all the fuss he had been making about this recently.)
But enough of Froggy, our thoughts were on Philby that day and what a fantastic, responsible, reliable team player he had always been who literally had to be forced by the NERDS to take any form of drink, such was his sober, upright, Calvinistic, protestant upbringing. Many suspected that he might actually be gay since you never actually caught him talking to, or even looking at girls. He seemed to be only interested in that boring sideline of his, that of running a little bodega or grocer’s shop somewhere, although the premises seemed to be some sort of secret and moved around a lot.
However to the ramble. It was a dull, shite type of day with rain threatening and the NERDS got on the train to Berwick after the compulsory second breakfast at Vick’s (as was) at Lewes station.
Berwick happened to be next to the Berwick Arms by good fortune so we piled in there and had a couple of pints while oggling Miss Milf who served the beer. Pity Philby was almost certainly gay otherwise he might have fallen in love with her like Froggy did; but anyway he would have been too shy to even look at her (you remember how he was with girls). She was indeed something - but enough of this NERDish lust and back to the ramble.
Destination today was chez Pete at the Yew Tree at Arlington.
To do this, and to get there before all the Old Trouts in Sussex, we had to circumvent the reservoir so we went the short way round, ie. the right hand side, and were disturbed to notice that the reservoir was really low in water. Hope they’d have enough to enable the local breweries to continue to function.
We went over the river on the rickety rackety bridge where B.T. used to dance on the railing (but survived) and then into Arlington itself. True to form, Pete’s car park was full of cars - always a bad sign (for us), and when we got in there the place was crowded with nice old people. We fought our way to a table and were greeted by Pete in his usual bonhomious way; he still thinks we are something to do with Customs and Excise (as if..)
But at least he doesn’t poison our meals.
You can see why the Yew Tree was so popular. First of all the decorations were stunning, it had three Christmas trees, it had tables full of miniature snowmen and lots of tinsel and stuff hanging from the ceiling. Added to which the meals, of course, had huge helpings and were really yummy. To celebrate Philby’s birthday we all had a mega dessert of Belgian icecream covered with the contents of a miniature bottle of Baileys. Philby would have been proud of us (if he hadn’t been so gay - and dead) but at least we thought about him (a bit).
Lunch over we returned over the rickety, rackety bridge but saw no trolls or B.T.s (surprise, surprise) then back round the reservoir where we were pursued by a sea monster and latterly by vampires - it getting on for dusk an’all. Amazing the restorative power of a few drinks!
So we took refuge from all these strange apparitions in the Berwick Arms once again where Froggy regaled us with tales of how he used to frolic around with his playmates in the sandpit of the Tuileries gardens in Paris (bet he was a psammead - go google it!). We humoured him and plied him with more drink since he hadn’t got long to live anyhow, and we all promised to read his book when he was dead and look after his widow well and drink all his drink stores etc, so he felt better after that.
And so the end to another ramble in which we comforted Froggy and remembered Philby. Next month is the Christmas ramble when we can remember both Froggy and Philby, and think about Bronco and perhaps B.T. ( are you coming over for this, B.T.?)
So best of luck with your execution on the 1st, Froggo. Can I have your stamp collection, please?
Love to all.
Lafayette.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
NERDS’ RAMBLES Nos 262 & 263.
26th Sept. and 17th Oct. 2011.
The First One - The alleged 4 pubs Ramble.
Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, Sandyballs and Paco (a bit later)
This was Froggy’s idea. “ Let’s do a ramble which takes in four pubs and ends up with lunch - Nothing can possibly go wrong”
Lafayette laughed himself sick at this brave optimism but as ever was keen for new experiences so went along with the scheme.
The NERDS (well, 3 of them - Laf, Frog and SB) all met in Vic’s for breakfast cognacs. Sandyballs had decided that since he could no longer call himself a Catholic he would have no guilt about doing this - the other 2 just didn’t give a shit and wanted a drink. El Paco was remarkable by his loud absence, but by now we were used to his little pecadillos so weren’t overworried. News reached us that Bronco, being as skillful at driving as he was on a horse, had rolled his Land Rover in Glynde and walked unhurt from the flaming wreckage (should have auditioned for Spooks). Apparently he had gone straight round the garage to buy a new Ferrari so that he could mop up the bastards who had dared to walk in front of him the first time.
Anyway The NERDS got the train to Berwick and were just piling into the handily placed Berwick Arms for a post breakfast and pre ramble drink, when another maniac in a car screeched to a halt alongside them. El Paco had apparently overslept (Well, damn my eyes!) but hadn’t wanted to miss all the fun.
The landlord of the pub had apparently been unable to unload many of his free Sailor Jerry CDs on to his regular customers (see last month’s ramble) because the music was so bad so we took a few away with us to use as bookmarks and drinks coasters.
The weather was sort of dull but OK with a bit of drizzle. The NERDS set off for pub No 2. The Cricketers at er… well you know the one, it’s on the other side of that nasty main road where everyone (except Lafayette who is a brilliant sprinter with shit-hot reactions ) gets squashed trying to cross.
Several squashed NERDS later we found ourselves inside said pub where Paco disgraced everyone by asking for a glass of milk. (Nerves shot to hell by trying to cross the road, apparently)
This had to be downed quickly and we were allowed only a brief goggle at the nymphet barmaids `cos we had to be on, on to the next pub.
Along the old coaching route we went fearing to meet Bronco playing at being Dick Turpin in a red Ferrari or else attempting to mow us down under the hooves of his beloved Crunchy.
On, on went the NERDS heading towards pub No. 3, The Rose Cottage where on previous occasions a talking parrot had served the drinks and where Lafayette had made friends with a black pussy (don’t ask).
Unfortunately time seemed to be running out ( too much boozing) and lunch was in danger of being retarded by potential Old Trouts. So an executive decision was made to swerve Rose Cottage and make it The ‘3 Pub’ Ramble instead, and head for The Barley Mow which was still on the right side of that nasty main road.
At just about this time Sandyballs got a text from someone he called ‘The Bitch’ but who was in fact none other than The Bish to say that he had become a grandfather (again). Well, we’d have to drink to that wouldn’t we? Yet another ugly little face appears in the world to possibly join the Flintoff generation of baby NERDS.
So to the Barley Mow we tramped. That is all except Sandyballs who had “mislaid” his very expensive Primark jacket with the Tiffany cufflinks and had wandered off in a fruitless search for these baubles. On returning (fruitlessly) to the pub Sandyballs found Lafayette three parts of the way through a large bag of porky scratchings because he was unable to wait for his dinner to be cooked.
The Barley Mow must have changed hands since the very ordinary Christmas dinner suffered there by the NERDS the year before last. The food was dead good with a lot of variety and El paco ordered a bottle of posh Merlot to celebrate the arrival of Ugly Young Bish into the world. Froggy told us of his guilty secret of watching ‘Internet Ladies without Clothes’ on his computer (Well, there’s a surprise!) we all thought he was going to divulge a passion for killing a lot of Jews in the war . Never mind, Froggo, your secret is safe with the NERDS - it will never get revealed.
Outside the weather had turned nice and sunny and autumny. The NERDS squashed their way over the main road (all except Lafayette, of course) and proceeded through dappled fields back to The Berwick Arms.There, after a few drinks SB took the train back chez lui and the remaining three chased a butterfly round the decking outside to allay Lafayette’s fear of nasty, fluttery things. (It had been that sort of ramble).
Next Ramble, No. 263. - The Posh Village Ramble.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Paco (at the beginning , would you believe,) and Lafayette
Sandyballs was going to try a new ramble today instead of re-cycling all the old ones; The NERDS were all terrified of this radical approach to their drinking and feared getting massively disorientated; however things do not always go to plan.
The omens were not very good. Froggy had received intelligence that the pub the NERDS were due to lunch at at Ansty had closed down. Time for a recce in Sandyballs’ car to establish the truth. On arrival at the pub Lafayette crept up to the front window and peered in. Not only was there no beer, no landlord, no food, there was not even a scrap of furniture; the bailiffs had obviously stripped the joint. Time for Plan B.
Not only did our lunch plans seem foiled, but concern had been expressed over the whereabouts of BT who had disappeared to China a couple of months previously and not been heard of since. Was he languishing in a Chinese jail for trying to pass off his wife as an official interpreter? Or had he simply absconded to Libya lured by the thought of the easy money to be made there in the post revolutionary mess? Even as Lafayette penned these fantasies the truth remained obscure.
Any road up, Sandy balls drove us to Cuckfield while Paco and Froggy debated between themselves whose wife had been the worse cook. Were fishcakes badly cooked worse than lentil bake a la Bresilienne? Lafayette wisely remained silent at this point; he knew that Mrs Lafayette sometimes got up late in the night to read his outpourings of genius on the computer, and he didn’t want to get caught out.
Arriving at Cuckfield, a rather pretty Sussex village obviously full of rampant Telegraph readers and no Pikies, SB went off to purchase a disc to enable himself to park (complicated huh?).
Meanwhile the other NERDS found themselves being drawn towards The Talbot in Cuckfield High Street where all the other customers were sitting aroung reading the Telegraph ( This isn’t actually the real reason; they could smell the beer). Anyway this place had a lot to recommend it. For a start it opened at 10.00hrs
(always a good point) and then it sold local beer, had a massive bonsai tree in the outside bit, a friendly barman of the commoner sort, and a menu that looked rather promising (although a bit pricey).
So all tooled up with drink, the NERDS lounged around on the comfy armchairs and attempted to guide Froggy through sponsoring the passport application of one of Paco’s (many) grandchildren. After a few drinks even Paco couldn’t remember which grandchild it was or even what nationality it was supposed to be that week. Was it a proper grandchild or had it come in in the back of a lorry? Oh sod it ; let’s have lunch.
Sandyballs was twitching a bit now and making noises about doing some rambling, but he was overruled because the menu looked good, the waitress was beckoning and we all wanted another drink. Well, wow! What a lunch! Lafayette had the lovely linguini and mushrooms and truffles and drizzled nectar and stuff and went into ecstatic overdrive. All agreed whatever they had had was super duper so we went overboard and had some orgasmic icecream for dessert ( at least, Lafayette did). This was definitely a “NERDS approved” establishment.
By this time Sandyballs had gone from exuding petulance to being downright bad tempered. “We have come here to walk.” he raved. “ Fuck off.” the rest of us said , wondering which brandy to choose. (Paco favoured the Carlos Primero, but I digress). So to maintain a semblance of being a walking group (lol) we reluctantly tore ourselves away from this gastronomic paradise and wandered out into the wilderness of West Sussex.
The weather had got better, and was nice and autumny ; like coppery leaves and mellow bollocks and stuff. We blindly followed Sandyballs’ promptings and went down some path or other (which was actually very pleasant) in the direction of “Ansty Without the Pub” and ended up (surprise, surprise) in the Talbot at Cookfield for double brandies. Sandyballs had had his honour satisfied and his Catholic guilt assuaged and the rest of the NERDS had got back to where they wanted to be.
Froggy declared his eternal ambition to bring Mike Clarke and Matthew together in a civil ceremony with the NERDS dressed in little frocks as bridesmaids ( I may have got this a bit wrong ; the notes by this time were a little unclear there being brandy all over the embark cards. - Laf.) so we called it a day in the Talbot and Sandyballs drove us all back to the Gardeners in Lewes where we resumed our deliberations about er… whatever it was.
It had been a good “ramble” because we had walked a bit, found a new mega fantastic pub and discovered another chocolate box Sussex village that we hadn’t actually been thrown out of. So thanks to Sandyballs for routing and driving; to Froggy for being funny (in a nice way) and to Paco for turning up at the beginning. You’re getting better, you’ll just have to practise more!
There you go, you NERDS; two write ups for the price of one.
Now wasn’t that worth waiting for?
Lafayette.
26th Sept. and 17th Oct. 2011.
The First One - The alleged 4 pubs Ramble.
Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, Sandyballs and Paco (a bit later)
This was Froggy’s idea. “ Let’s do a ramble which takes in four pubs and ends up with lunch - Nothing can possibly go wrong”
Lafayette laughed himself sick at this brave optimism but as ever was keen for new experiences so went along with the scheme.
The NERDS (well, 3 of them - Laf, Frog and SB) all met in Vic’s for breakfast cognacs. Sandyballs had decided that since he could no longer call himself a Catholic he would have no guilt about doing this - the other 2 just didn’t give a shit and wanted a drink. El Paco was remarkable by his loud absence, but by now we were used to his little pecadillos so weren’t overworried. News reached us that Bronco, being as skillful at driving as he was on a horse, had rolled his Land Rover in Glynde and walked unhurt from the flaming wreckage (should have auditioned for Spooks). Apparently he had gone straight round the garage to buy a new Ferrari so that he could mop up the bastards who had dared to walk in front of him the first time.
Anyway The NERDS got the train to Berwick and were just piling into the handily placed Berwick Arms for a post breakfast and pre ramble drink, when another maniac in a car screeched to a halt alongside them. El Paco had apparently overslept (Well, damn my eyes!) but hadn’t wanted to miss all the fun.
The landlord of the pub had apparently been unable to unload many of his free Sailor Jerry CDs on to his regular customers (see last month’s ramble) because the music was so bad so we took a few away with us to use as bookmarks and drinks coasters.
The weather was sort of dull but OK with a bit of drizzle. The NERDS set off for pub No 2. The Cricketers at er… well you know the one, it’s on the other side of that nasty main road where everyone (except Lafayette who is a brilliant sprinter with shit-hot reactions ) gets squashed trying to cross.
Several squashed NERDS later we found ourselves inside said pub where Paco disgraced everyone by asking for a glass of milk. (Nerves shot to hell by trying to cross the road, apparently)
This had to be downed quickly and we were allowed only a brief goggle at the nymphet barmaids `cos we had to be on, on to the next pub.
Along the old coaching route we went fearing to meet Bronco playing at being Dick Turpin in a red Ferrari or else attempting to mow us down under the hooves of his beloved Crunchy.
On, on went the NERDS heading towards pub No. 3, The Rose Cottage where on previous occasions a talking parrot had served the drinks and where Lafayette had made friends with a black pussy (don’t ask).
Unfortunately time seemed to be running out ( too much boozing) and lunch was in danger of being retarded by potential Old Trouts. So an executive decision was made to swerve Rose Cottage and make it The ‘3 Pub’ Ramble instead, and head for The Barley Mow which was still on the right side of that nasty main road.
At just about this time Sandyballs got a text from someone he called ‘The Bitch’ but who was in fact none other than The Bish to say that he had become a grandfather (again). Well, we’d have to drink to that wouldn’t we? Yet another ugly little face appears in the world to possibly join the Flintoff generation of baby NERDS.
So to the Barley Mow we tramped. That is all except Sandyballs who had “mislaid” his very expensive Primark jacket with the Tiffany cufflinks and had wandered off in a fruitless search for these baubles. On returning (fruitlessly) to the pub Sandyballs found Lafayette three parts of the way through a large bag of porky scratchings because he was unable to wait for his dinner to be cooked.
The Barley Mow must have changed hands since the very ordinary Christmas dinner suffered there by the NERDS the year before last. The food was dead good with a lot of variety and El paco ordered a bottle of posh Merlot to celebrate the arrival of Ugly Young Bish into the world. Froggy told us of his guilty secret of watching ‘Internet Ladies without Clothes’ on his computer (Well, there’s a surprise!) we all thought he was going to divulge a passion for killing a lot of Jews in the war . Never mind, Froggo, your secret is safe with the NERDS - it will never get revealed.
Outside the weather had turned nice and sunny and autumny. The NERDS squashed their way over the main road (all except Lafayette, of course) and proceeded through dappled fields back to The Berwick Arms.There, after a few drinks SB took the train back chez lui and the remaining three chased a butterfly round the decking outside to allay Lafayette’s fear of nasty, fluttery things. (It had been that sort of ramble).
Next Ramble, No. 263. - The Posh Village Ramble.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Paco (at the beginning , would you believe,) and Lafayette
Sandyballs was going to try a new ramble today instead of re-cycling all the old ones; The NERDS were all terrified of this radical approach to their drinking and feared getting massively disorientated; however things do not always go to plan.
The omens were not very good. Froggy had received intelligence that the pub the NERDS were due to lunch at at Ansty had closed down. Time for a recce in Sandyballs’ car to establish the truth. On arrival at the pub Lafayette crept up to the front window and peered in. Not only was there no beer, no landlord, no food, there was not even a scrap of furniture; the bailiffs had obviously stripped the joint. Time for Plan B.
Not only did our lunch plans seem foiled, but concern had been expressed over the whereabouts of BT who had disappeared to China a couple of months previously and not been heard of since. Was he languishing in a Chinese jail for trying to pass off his wife as an official interpreter? Or had he simply absconded to Libya lured by the thought of the easy money to be made there in the post revolutionary mess? Even as Lafayette penned these fantasies the truth remained obscure.
Any road up, Sandy balls drove us to Cuckfield while Paco and Froggy debated between themselves whose wife had been the worse cook. Were fishcakes badly cooked worse than lentil bake a la Bresilienne? Lafayette wisely remained silent at this point; he knew that Mrs Lafayette sometimes got up late in the night to read his outpourings of genius on the computer, and he didn’t want to get caught out.
Arriving at Cuckfield, a rather pretty Sussex village obviously full of rampant Telegraph readers and no Pikies, SB went off to purchase a disc to enable himself to park (complicated huh?).
Meanwhile the other NERDS found themselves being drawn towards The Talbot in Cuckfield High Street where all the other customers were sitting aroung reading the Telegraph ( This isn’t actually the real reason; they could smell the beer). Anyway this place had a lot to recommend it. For a start it opened at 10.00hrs
(always a good point) and then it sold local beer, had a massive bonsai tree in the outside bit, a friendly barman of the commoner sort, and a menu that looked rather promising (although a bit pricey).
So all tooled up with drink, the NERDS lounged around on the comfy armchairs and attempted to guide Froggy through sponsoring the passport application of one of Paco’s (many) grandchildren. After a few drinks even Paco couldn’t remember which grandchild it was or even what nationality it was supposed to be that week. Was it a proper grandchild or had it come in in the back of a lorry? Oh sod it ; let’s have lunch.
Sandyballs was twitching a bit now and making noises about doing some rambling, but he was overruled because the menu looked good, the waitress was beckoning and we all wanted another drink. Well, wow! What a lunch! Lafayette had the lovely linguini and mushrooms and truffles and drizzled nectar and stuff and went into ecstatic overdrive. All agreed whatever they had had was super duper so we went overboard and had some orgasmic icecream for dessert ( at least, Lafayette did). This was definitely a “NERDS approved” establishment.
By this time Sandyballs had gone from exuding petulance to being downright bad tempered. “We have come here to walk.” he raved. “ Fuck off.” the rest of us said , wondering which brandy to choose. (Paco favoured the Carlos Primero, but I digress). So to maintain a semblance of being a walking group (lol) we reluctantly tore ourselves away from this gastronomic paradise and wandered out into the wilderness of West Sussex.
The weather had got better, and was nice and autumny ; like coppery leaves and mellow bollocks and stuff. We blindly followed Sandyballs’ promptings and went down some path or other (which was actually very pleasant) in the direction of “Ansty Without the Pub” and ended up (surprise, surprise) in the Talbot at Cookfield for double brandies. Sandyballs had had his honour satisfied and his Catholic guilt assuaged and the rest of the NERDS had got back to where they wanted to be.
Froggy declared his eternal ambition to bring Mike Clarke and Matthew together in a civil ceremony with the NERDS dressed in little frocks as bridesmaids ( I may have got this a bit wrong ; the notes by this time were a little unclear there being brandy all over the embark cards. - Laf.) so we called it a day in the Talbot and Sandyballs drove us all back to the Gardeners in Lewes where we resumed our deliberations about er… whatever it was.
It had been a good “ramble” because we had walked a bit, found a new mega fantastic pub and discovered another chocolate box Sussex village that we hadn’t actually been thrown out of. So thanks to Sandyballs for routing and driving; to Froggy for being funny (in a nice way) and to Paco for turning up at the beginning. You’re getting better, you’ll just have to practise more!
There you go, you NERDS; two write ups for the price of one.
Now wasn’t that worth waiting for?
Lafayette.
THE NERDS’ Ramble No. 261. 22/8/11.
Those Present - Froggy, Matt, Sandyballs, Lafayette.
Special Guests - Bronco, Dumpling.
The post Wedding Ramble.
The NERDS were all recovering from the wedding of the year which had taken place a couple days before. This, of course, was the fantastic celebrations following the marriage of jeune Sandyballs, ( also known at the age of 6 as The Baby Hippy on account of her (then) tatty hair and general scruffy appearance)
And Warwick, son of Manneville, bachelor of the parish of Lewes.
The celebrations had gone on all evening; the NERDS had been wowed by the generosity of the hosts ( Mr and Mrs Sandyballs) who, in addition to laying on mountains of food and huge quantities if drink, had imported a lot of young chicas in very short frocks simply to entertain the NERDS by dancing before them in a provocative manner. Everyone had had a really good time, especially Sandyballs who had been seen bouncing off the walls of the venue and disappearing into the Gents. Lafayette had pointed him in the right direction, as usual, and then retired to the bar to threaten his own daughter with disinheritance if she ever started demanding a wedding on such a scale for herself one day. (After all, Lafayette is just a poor pensioner ).
So the NERDS were all basking in that warm, rosy afterglow which comes from eating and drinking too much ( not that this happens much, lol) when they woke up to the fact that it was time for the next ramble. Firstly, all round to chez Sandyballs for a breakfast of wedding cake and er..cognac (well they do go rather well together!). Froggy wasn’t sure about all this rich diet and accused Sandyballs of trying to block his fatty heart with excess confectionery. “Murderer,” he screamed, “ Just because I’m the only one still at work, you’re trying to kill me off because you’re jealous!” Sandy balls privately admitted to himself that he really was missing being at work but said there was so much cake left over that he thought he’d just foist it off on the NERDS before it got stale. Lafayette wondered what the interesting wooden bit he’d chewed on in the middle of his cake was but Sandyballs said it was just a bit of fertility tree that had fallen into the mixing bowl and was actually a sign that Lafayette’s manhood would increase in size the older he got (fancy that!).
Since Froggy felt too weak to walk over the hills to Glynde, S.B. decided to take us all to the Anchor at Ringmer where Bronco might be hanging out. The NERDS made sure the bottle of brandy was dead and then set off. The day was dull and rain threatened; however the route was pleasantly flat so that anyone even with the slightest trace of heart disease could be expected to cope. We passed witchy looking women from the woods near Lewes and old hippy type men with beards and sandals. All you get in Newhaven are sailors from the ships and Turks out of the back of lorries, so a pleasant change for Lafayette.
At The Anchor we sat on the comfy sofas to await Bronco who probably hadn’t got up yet. To while away the time Dumpling D. told us stories of how he’d had to face hordes of fuzzy-wuzzies besieging the Embassy when he’d been posted to Lagos. Apparently they’d wanted to pay back the tax their dependants had fiddled when going to the UK but Dumpling had bravely mown them down with machine gun fire for the filthy liars he knew them to be. No sense in paying back tax when none was needed, he reasoned.
Bronco turned up looking a bit pale; he’d been trying to get over the last occasion when SB and Laf. had lured him down The Anchor and filled him full of gin. All his other (octagenarian) mates from the pub welcomed him back and he proceeded to order a large steak which put a bit of colour back in his cheeks. Bronco told Sandyballs he couldn’t wait to get back to work because he was missing Shirley Wirley being nice to him. Sandyballs burst into tears and vowed to revise a lot and do team working from home just to catch up with all the other lucky workers.
The food wasn’t bad and Lafayette had Eggs Florentine to show how sophisticated he was; Matt had lots of apple crumble to show what a pleb he was. Matt said when he retired he was going to buy an ice cream van and deal drugs to school kids because this was the way forward ( Graham Boiling quote) Dumpling said he’d have to pay tax even on immoral earnings but Matt thought he’d be OK if he sold a bit of icecream as well.
Dumpling thought he ought to invoke The Human Rights Act (Article 6 - the right to make a lot of money) but Matt thought this was vulgar as he’d never been interested in having a lot of money anyway; he just wanted to be of some use to humanity and he was going to leave all his money to that famous society in Seaford, the C***s, anyway.
The conversation turned to those who had “ladies who do” to clean their houses and those who didn’t. Bronco said Froggy had been such a good friend to him that he was going to send his own cleaner round to his house specially so that she could clean the cobwebs off his willy. Froggy started getting worried about the effect this might have on his dicky (geddit?) heart, but Bronco assured him that his cleaner’s tickling stick was really quite remarkable and would only give him mild palpitations.
The NERDS then said goodbye to Bronco who was going home to ensure there was enough mess in his house to justify the cleaner returning. After that we got the bus outside The Anchor to Lewes to save Froggy having to strain his heart any more by needing to ramble ( Aren’t we all considerate?), and ended up in The Gardeners where Lafayette had his tea consisting of cider and porky scratchings.
It had been a slightly unusual ramble since the original route had been cancelled for health reasons. However, thanks to Sandyballs and Mrs Sandyballs for all the cake and stuff and it had been nice to see Dumpling and Bronco again.
Dates of the next rambles are as follows just in case everyone gets drunk and forgets what we decided on:
September - Monday 26th
October - Friday 21st
November - Tuesday 22nd
December - Wednesday 14th
Bye for now.
Lafayette.
Those Present - Froggy, Matt, Sandyballs, Lafayette.
Special Guests - Bronco, Dumpling.
The post Wedding Ramble.
The NERDS were all recovering from the wedding of the year which had taken place a couple days before. This, of course, was the fantastic celebrations following the marriage of jeune Sandyballs, ( also known at the age of 6 as The Baby Hippy on account of her (then) tatty hair and general scruffy appearance)
And Warwick, son of Manneville, bachelor of the parish of Lewes.
The celebrations had gone on all evening; the NERDS had been wowed by the generosity of the hosts ( Mr and Mrs Sandyballs) who, in addition to laying on mountains of food and huge quantities if drink, had imported a lot of young chicas in very short frocks simply to entertain the NERDS by dancing before them in a provocative manner. Everyone had had a really good time, especially Sandyballs who had been seen bouncing off the walls of the venue and disappearing into the Gents. Lafayette had pointed him in the right direction, as usual, and then retired to the bar to threaten his own daughter with disinheritance if she ever started demanding a wedding on such a scale for herself one day. (After all, Lafayette is just a poor pensioner ).
So the NERDS were all basking in that warm, rosy afterglow which comes from eating and drinking too much ( not that this happens much, lol) when they woke up to the fact that it was time for the next ramble. Firstly, all round to chez Sandyballs for a breakfast of wedding cake and er..cognac (well they do go rather well together!). Froggy wasn’t sure about all this rich diet and accused Sandyballs of trying to block his fatty heart with excess confectionery. “Murderer,” he screamed, “ Just because I’m the only one still at work, you’re trying to kill me off because you’re jealous!” Sandy balls privately admitted to himself that he really was missing being at work but said there was so much cake left over that he thought he’d just foist it off on the NERDS before it got stale. Lafayette wondered what the interesting wooden bit he’d chewed on in the middle of his cake was but Sandyballs said it was just a bit of fertility tree that had fallen into the mixing bowl and was actually a sign that Lafayette’s manhood would increase in size the older he got (fancy that!).
Since Froggy felt too weak to walk over the hills to Glynde, S.B. decided to take us all to the Anchor at Ringmer where Bronco might be hanging out. The NERDS made sure the bottle of brandy was dead and then set off. The day was dull and rain threatened; however the route was pleasantly flat so that anyone even with the slightest trace of heart disease could be expected to cope. We passed witchy looking women from the woods near Lewes and old hippy type men with beards and sandals. All you get in Newhaven are sailors from the ships and Turks out of the back of lorries, so a pleasant change for Lafayette.
At The Anchor we sat on the comfy sofas to await Bronco who probably hadn’t got up yet. To while away the time Dumpling D. told us stories of how he’d had to face hordes of fuzzy-wuzzies besieging the Embassy when he’d been posted to Lagos. Apparently they’d wanted to pay back the tax their dependants had fiddled when going to the UK but Dumpling had bravely mown them down with machine gun fire for the filthy liars he knew them to be. No sense in paying back tax when none was needed, he reasoned.
Bronco turned up looking a bit pale; he’d been trying to get over the last occasion when SB and Laf. had lured him down The Anchor and filled him full of gin. All his other (octagenarian) mates from the pub welcomed him back and he proceeded to order a large steak which put a bit of colour back in his cheeks. Bronco told Sandyballs he couldn’t wait to get back to work because he was missing Shirley Wirley being nice to him. Sandyballs burst into tears and vowed to revise a lot and do team working from home just to catch up with all the other lucky workers.
The food wasn’t bad and Lafayette had Eggs Florentine to show how sophisticated he was; Matt had lots of apple crumble to show what a pleb he was. Matt said when he retired he was going to buy an ice cream van and deal drugs to school kids because this was the way forward ( Graham Boiling quote) Dumpling said he’d have to pay tax even on immoral earnings but Matt thought he’d be OK if he sold a bit of icecream as well.
Dumpling thought he ought to invoke The Human Rights Act (Article 6 - the right to make a lot of money) but Matt thought this was vulgar as he’d never been interested in having a lot of money anyway; he just wanted to be of some use to humanity and he was going to leave all his money to that famous society in Seaford, the C***s, anyway.
The conversation turned to those who had “ladies who do” to clean their houses and those who didn’t. Bronco said Froggy had been such a good friend to him that he was going to send his own cleaner round to his house specially so that she could clean the cobwebs off his willy. Froggy started getting worried about the effect this might have on his dicky (geddit?) heart, but Bronco assured him that his cleaner’s tickling stick was really quite remarkable and would only give him mild palpitations.
The NERDS then said goodbye to Bronco who was going home to ensure there was enough mess in his house to justify the cleaner returning. After that we got the bus outside The Anchor to Lewes to save Froggy having to strain his heart any more by needing to ramble ( Aren’t we all considerate?), and ended up in The Gardeners where Lafayette had his tea consisting of cider and porky scratchings.
It had been a slightly unusual ramble since the original route had been cancelled for health reasons. However, thanks to Sandyballs and Mrs Sandyballs for all the cake and stuff and it had been nice to see Dumpling and Bronco again.
Dates of the next rambles are as follows just in case everyone gets drunk and forgets what we decided on:
September - Monday 26th
October - Friday 21st
November - Tuesday 22nd
December - Wednesday 14th
Bye for now.
Lafayette.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
NERDS’ RAMBLE No. 260 - Wed. 20th August 2011.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Lafayette, Matt, The Bish,
The Not So Mystery Guest - Shirley Wirley.
The “ Beauty and the 5 Beasts” Ramble.
Well, you know what they say, the older you get the more you lust after young women. That’s why up to now Rule No 2 (or is it 2a?) was “No women on NERDS’ rambles! This was because they might want to talk to us, flirt with us, seduce us, marry us, interfere in our lives and actually think they were good enough to take over NERDS’ rambles. No, we couldn’t have that at all, I mean what would our wives say?
But today was to be an exception because Shirley Wirley wouldn’t do any of the above nasty things to us - she’d got more sense! Besides which, we’d got Matt with us to warn us of the dangers of hellfire if we got unclean thoughts (especially about women), and The Bish who was ugly enough to frighten off any women and Lafayette and Froggy who loved each other to bits (see photo of Lafayette’s clumsy attempts at foreplay in the station shelter at Normans Bay. Sorry Brian, you’ve been away so long that there’s a new catamite on the block.)
The weather did not look promising. It was dull and shitey looking, hardly the sort of day to get entangled with the opposite sex, - or any sex for that matter. Most NERDS met on the train from Seaford where the Bish popped up again to swell our ranks. Long time no see. Had he been consorting with other rambling groups or just hiding his light under a bishel? The man refused to say, although we all suspected he’d been off pirating with The Captain.
But no, The Captain, it was rumoured, was presently in Cornwall spending all his lump sum on fancy high heeled shoes and mastadon skin handbags. ( It just shows you how retirement makes you turn a bit weird! ) and The Bish steadfastly denied all accusations of going out shopping with weirdos.
But back to the ramble. The NERDS had the usual cup of coffee at Vick’s on Lewes station and got their photo taken in the waiting room by some eager young mademoiselle (Froggy’s charm working overtime again) then they got on the complicated train that goes to Eastbourne, back out of Eastbourne , all along the south coast, round and round the houses until it ends up at…..er somewhere I forget but it was near a nice field where we stopped to admire Sandyballs’s new boots.
Having spent all his NERDS career wearing sandals with no socks (some half-arsed fashion statement, allegedly) S.B. had decided now was the time to become a proper NERD and get some kitten heeled rambling boots. He had therefore sought the advice of The Captain, that well known pervert and foot fetishist, and come up with a boring pair of size 13 footwear type thingies which didn’t flop around like the last pair of sandals he’d turned up in.
Admiring speeches were made, photos were taken and awards given out. Sandyballs was very happy with all the adulation and vowed we could bury him in his NERDS boots next to Philby when his number came up. Froggy here made a bid for fame as the wannabe- next- NERD- to- croak by saying he was going for an angiogram next week and was feeling a little pale and wan at the thought of having to be fitted with the vicious nipple clamps which were apparently obligatory. Lafayette said he’d once gone out with an Irish bird called Angie O’ Plasty and was she any relation to Froggy’s angiogram, or did his one just play old fashioned records? Matt just smirked and murmured something about a club he’d been to in Berlin once.
We seemed to be in Pevensey so Sandyballs thought he’d celebrate his new footwear by buying some chips. Then we did a bit of rambling and then we went into a pub. It was a nice pub although the barmaid did look a bit askance at Lafayette when he asked for a Guinness shandy. “ Why can’t you drink Harvey’s like all the other daft NERDS? “ she said “This stuff is really sticky and gets everywhere.” Lafayette didn’t know what to say to this and turned to Matt for advice. The only answer he got was something along the lines of somebody’s solicitor was looking for work. Er.. Fine, I’ll just drink my Guinness and stuff then.
We sat outside and learned that that weekend something called PEVFEST was going to take place, and that it was going to be a local BIG, BIG THING, apparently even bigger than the usual futile “hunt the virgin all round Pevensey” event which took place every twenty five years, but this time with lots of rock bands !!!! “Er ………super,” we said and quickly downed two more pints before running away and looking for a chip shop.
Sandyballs led us unerringly to his pre-prandial aperitif of carbs, and because it would have been rude to let him eat by himself we all joined in and risked spoiling our appetites. On, on, we went through crappy caravan sites, along narrow country roads until Sandyballs got a phone call from some irate woman who was starving, wanted her dinner and demanded to know where he was. S.B. ‘fessed up to making a detour to get some chips and getting everybody lost in the process. The angry female voice threatened SB with the sack if he didn’t get his arse in gear but the latter quietly smiled and said actually,he had retired. Ho, ho!
Eventually The NERDS arrived at The Star at Normans Bay where an excellent, roasty dinner was on offer, and where suddenly a woman turned up wanting to be nice to us. However, this was no ordinary woman, this was Shirley Wirley the bestest girlie and the most efficient CIO (sadly demoted) in the whole wide Border Control Agencie Thingie wotsit. Lots of hugs and kisses all round and then rearrangement of the seating plan so that Froggy could talk a lot about work and so that the rest of us could just look in wonder into Shirley Wirley’s eyes and wonder why we hadn’t repealed NERDS’ Rule 2 (a) long before.
Later on that cold, rainy afternoon somebody thought it would be a good idea to go and freeze outside while hoovering up the pearls of wisdom which were emanating from SW’s lips, but in the end she had to hurry back home to cook Tin of Beans’s’ tea so sadly the NERDS had to say goodbye. There were lots more hugs and kisses and we found out that actually, and contrary to a malicious rumour put out by Froggy previously, Shirley Wirley
had quite a nice thin, but gropable bum which she tore from our grasp and led enticingly away. Now you see why girlies really shouldn’t be allowed on rambles; they’re really very bad for NERDS’ blood pressure!
Waiting in the train shelter at Normans Bay Lafayette fell in love with Froggy (faute de mieux) and tried to twist his nipple off. Froggy responded by telling Lafayette something fascinating about work, but Lafayette wasn’t listening; he was fantasising about mumsy thingies and slumped down in a drunken coma until the train came.
Most of the NERDS ended up in Lewes, apart from two whose combined age exceeded a hundred and forty, and the stalwart NERDS ended up in the Kings Head drinking Doombar.
It had been an interesting ramble and one in which Lafayette’s hormones had occasionally got the better of him. Thanks be to Sandyballs for the route and to Shirley Wirley for the entertainment. Oh, and to all those who met together to talk about work……fascinating stuff. Can’t wait for the next instalment.
Lafayette.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Lafayette, Matt, The Bish,
The Not So Mystery Guest - Shirley Wirley.
The “ Beauty and the 5 Beasts” Ramble.
Well, you know what they say, the older you get the more you lust after young women. That’s why up to now Rule No 2 (or is it 2a?) was “No women on NERDS’ rambles! This was because they might want to talk to us, flirt with us, seduce us, marry us, interfere in our lives and actually think they were good enough to take over NERDS’ rambles. No, we couldn’t have that at all, I mean what would our wives say?
But today was to be an exception because Shirley Wirley wouldn’t do any of the above nasty things to us - she’d got more sense! Besides which, we’d got Matt with us to warn us of the dangers of hellfire if we got unclean thoughts (especially about women), and The Bish who was ugly enough to frighten off any women and Lafayette and Froggy who loved each other to bits (see photo of Lafayette’s clumsy attempts at foreplay in the station shelter at Normans Bay. Sorry Brian, you’ve been away so long that there’s a new catamite on the block.)
The weather did not look promising. It was dull and shitey looking, hardly the sort of day to get entangled with the opposite sex, - or any sex for that matter. Most NERDS met on the train from Seaford where the Bish popped up again to swell our ranks. Long time no see. Had he been consorting with other rambling groups or just hiding his light under a bishel? The man refused to say, although we all suspected he’d been off pirating with The Captain.
But no, The Captain, it was rumoured, was presently in Cornwall spending all his lump sum on fancy high heeled shoes and mastadon skin handbags. ( It just shows you how retirement makes you turn a bit weird! ) and The Bish steadfastly denied all accusations of going out shopping with weirdos.
But back to the ramble. The NERDS had the usual cup of coffee at Vick’s on Lewes station and got their photo taken in the waiting room by some eager young mademoiselle (Froggy’s charm working overtime again) then they got on the complicated train that goes to Eastbourne, back out of Eastbourne , all along the south coast, round and round the houses until it ends up at…..er somewhere I forget but it was near a nice field where we stopped to admire Sandyballs’s new boots.
Having spent all his NERDS career wearing sandals with no socks (some half-arsed fashion statement, allegedly) S.B. had decided now was the time to become a proper NERD and get some kitten heeled rambling boots. He had therefore sought the advice of The Captain, that well known pervert and foot fetishist, and come up with a boring pair of size 13 footwear type thingies which didn’t flop around like the last pair of sandals he’d turned up in.
Admiring speeches were made, photos were taken and awards given out. Sandyballs was very happy with all the adulation and vowed we could bury him in his NERDS boots next to Philby when his number came up. Froggy here made a bid for fame as the wannabe- next- NERD- to- croak by saying he was going for an angiogram next week and was feeling a little pale and wan at the thought of having to be fitted with the vicious nipple clamps which were apparently obligatory. Lafayette said he’d once gone out with an Irish bird called Angie O’ Plasty and was she any relation to Froggy’s angiogram, or did his one just play old fashioned records? Matt just smirked and murmured something about a club he’d been to in Berlin once.
We seemed to be in Pevensey so Sandyballs thought he’d celebrate his new footwear by buying some chips. Then we did a bit of rambling and then we went into a pub. It was a nice pub although the barmaid did look a bit askance at Lafayette when he asked for a Guinness shandy. “ Why can’t you drink Harvey’s like all the other daft NERDS? “ she said “This stuff is really sticky and gets everywhere.” Lafayette didn’t know what to say to this and turned to Matt for advice. The only answer he got was something along the lines of somebody’s solicitor was looking for work. Er.. Fine, I’ll just drink my Guinness and stuff then.
We sat outside and learned that that weekend something called PEVFEST was going to take place, and that it was going to be a local BIG, BIG THING, apparently even bigger than the usual futile “hunt the virgin all round Pevensey” event which took place every twenty five years, but this time with lots of rock bands !!!! “Er ………super,” we said and quickly downed two more pints before running away and looking for a chip shop.
Sandyballs led us unerringly to his pre-prandial aperitif of carbs, and because it would have been rude to let him eat by himself we all joined in and risked spoiling our appetites. On, on, we went through crappy caravan sites, along narrow country roads until Sandyballs got a phone call from some irate woman who was starving, wanted her dinner and demanded to know where he was. S.B. ‘fessed up to making a detour to get some chips and getting everybody lost in the process. The angry female voice threatened SB with the sack if he didn’t get his arse in gear but the latter quietly smiled and said actually,he had retired. Ho, ho!
Eventually The NERDS arrived at The Star at Normans Bay where an excellent, roasty dinner was on offer, and where suddenly a woman turned up wanting to be nice to us. However, this was no ordinary woman, this was Shirley Wirley the bestest girlie and the most efficient CIO (sadly demoted) in the whole wide Border Control Agencie Thingie wotsit. Lots of hugs and kisses all round and then rearrangement of the seating plan so that Froggy could talk a lot about work and so that the rest of us could just look in wonder into Shirley Wirley’s eyes and wonder why we hadn’t repealed NERDS’ Rule 2 (a) long before.
Later on that cold, rainy afternoon somebody thought it would be a good idea to go and freeze outside while hoovering up the pearls of wisdom which were emanating from SW’s lips, but in the end she had to hurry back home to cook Tin of Beans’s’ tea so sadly the NERDS had to say goodbye. There were lots more hugs and kisses and we found out that actually, and contrary to a malicious rumour put out by Froggy previously, Shirley Wirley
had quite a nice thin, but gropable bum which she tore from our grasp and led enticingly away. Now you see why girlies really shouldn’t be allowed on rambles; they’re really very bad for NERDS’ blood pressure!
Waiting in the train shelter at Normans Bay Lafayette fell in love with Froggy (faute de mieux) and tried to twist his nipple off. Froggy responded by telling Lafayette something fascinating about work, but Lafayette wasn’t listening; he was fantasising about mumsy thingies and slumped down in a drunken coma until the train came.
Most of the NERDS ended up in Lewes, apart from two whose combined age exceeded a hundred and forty, and the stalwart NERDS ended up in the Kings Head drinking Doombar.
It had been an interesting ramble and one in which Lafayette’s hormones had occasionally got the better of him. Thanks be to Sandyballs for the route and to Shirley Wirley for the entertainment. Oh, and to all those who met together to talk about work……fascinating stuff. Can’t wait for the next instalment.
Lafayette.
Fellow Nerds,
This month we ramble on Wednesday 20th. As some of you may know, we will be lunching at The Star Inn at Normans Bay - where hopefully we will lunch in the company of la belle Shirley. You will need a day return ticket to Cooden Beach, BUT we will be alighting at a station before that to start the ramble. A pre- ramble pint cannot be ruled out.
Therefore can the Seaford/ Newhaven contingent get out of bed a bit earlier and take the 09.25 from Seaford Central which gets to Lewes at 09.44. The onward train leaves at 10.09. Plenty of time for a coffee and whatever at Vic's.
Anybody know the date of the August ramble? This will obviously have to be a Froggy-friendly date.
See some of you next week.
Harry ( aka Sandy)
This month we ramble on Wednesday 20th. As some of you may know, we will be lunching at The Star Inn at Normans Bay - where hopefully we will lunch in the company of la belle Shirley. You will need a day return ticket to Cooden Beach, BUT we will be alighting at a station before that to start the ramble. A pre- ramble pint cannot be ruled out.
Therefore can the Seaford/ Newhaven contingent get out of bed a bit earlier and take the 09.25 from Seaford Central which gets to Lewes at 09.44. The onward train leaves at 10.09. Plenty of time for a coffee and whatever at Vic's.
Anybody know the date of the August ramble? This will obviously have to be a Froggy-friendly date.
See some of you next week.
Harry ( aka Sandy)
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