NERDS' 30th Anniversary - 26.6.18 to 28.6.18
Dieppe Raid Numero Cinq.
Those Present – Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Paco, Curly, B.T.
Well, here we all were thirty years on, thirty years of rambling – mostly thanks to Sandyballs as dedicated Routemaster; thirty years of various NERDS doing the Whip – mostly B.T. and Froggy; thirty years of taking endless, repetitive photos of NERDS getting steadily older and drunker, - B.T. and Froggy with a little help from Philby ( Requiescat etc.) and thirty years of brilliant, talented, Pulitzer Prize winning literary fiction masterpieces known as “write-ups” lovingly crafted by famous author, Carlos Lafayette von Schwann, Earl of Wednesbury. And, latest innovation, the NERDS' blog full of exciting news and amazing images - mostly of scantily clad fairies (with wings)
engineered by B.T. You lucky People!
Day 1 – The Car Wheel Challenge.
B.T's car had been running on three wheels for some time and he had asked Lafayette to bring him a new wheel
over on the ferry to Dieppe. Apparently French Customs don't search incoming wheels for illegal immigrants so you can fill them up with chocolate, cocaine, or whatever else takes your fancy. Lafayette didn't know this. His big problem was lugging the damned thing together with all his other baggage down to the port, getting it through security and then making sure it (and he) had a decent place to sit in the bar.
The NERDS were all at the port waiting. They all promised to help Laf. with his burdens on to the bus, then on to the boat, then up the stairs, then into the bar.
Of course their good intentions vanished in the fervour of the joy of being on holiday and they all raced off leaving Laf to lug his shit up the stairs and into the bar. Hmmm....Dog eat dog again....
When everyone was finally settled with a drink
Sandyballs produced a load of NERD photos that he had discovered within a Valentine's card sent to him umpteen years ago by Philby. These featured various goings on - mostly people grinning at the camera over five-barred gates or raising half empty glasses to each other. Unfortunately one or two of these sweet memories had to be censured on account of certain ex-wives or superfluous girlfriends appearing who might have caused a certain embarrassment to those on the present trip.
When the “duty free” shop had finally given up all its store of cheap rose wine, the NERDS disembarked and finally managed to get the cursed wheel off the boat and into the hands of B.T. who was patiently waiting to dismantle the package, review the clandestine goods and figure out how he was going to sell them all for maximum profit.
The Mini-ramble that never was.
We checked into The Aguado, the sun was shining hotly, the “Tout Va Bien” was beckoning and we decided it was time for an aperitif before the mini-ramble.
Ha, ha, bloody ha! Any savvy Route master should have cottoned on to this dodge years ago but Sandyballs fell right into the obvious trap.
After at least three drinks in the pleasant surroundings of the shade of a French cafe in the mid-afternoon on a sunny day, nobody was going to get up and ramble.
Even if Sandyballs had managed to stagger to his feet at that point he would probably have collapsed comatose and had to be escorted back to his room.
And so the afternoon passed at The Tout Va Bien in a delightful alcoholic haze
until it was time to return to the Aguado to get dressed for dinner.
That evening we donned the amazing blue shirts embroidered with “NERDS, Villa Rosa,Thirty Years Rambling” which Froggy had kindly obtained for us.
Apart from the mistake of venue the shirts were by happy coincidence the same colour and seconds from the French national football team (presently engaged in battling it out in Russia for The World Cup). The French had originally intended to flog these off to the Senegal team who were colour blind but instead accepted Froggy's offer on behalf of the NERDS. He is to be congratulated for his canny business acumen.
The NERDS obviously had ideas above their station for a dinner venue. The previous week S.B. had got Laf. to ring up Le Newhaven
for a booking. Sadly (and inexplicably) they said they were closed on Tuesday and Wednesday of every week in June. Wot's not to like about the NERDS? We hadn't been there for a long time so our reputation must have got tarnished in the interim.
So we tried Le Grand Duquesne,
but this too was allegedly closed on Tuesdays. What is it about Tuesdays? Do the French all bunk off somewhere to watch football/shag their mistresses/both? Is Tuesday Le Trou Normand of the French week? Fortunately we found refuge in Les Arcades whose patron was doing none of the above at the time.
Several of the NERDS were by now somewhat tired and emotional after their long lunch. Curly was grinning at everyone and Paco seemed to have lost most of the little coordination he had started off with. Fortunately our waitress ( Melodie
or Fifi, according to your memory) saw in Paco the drooling Old Git who obviously reminded her of her own incompetent grandfather. She kindly adopted him at the table and put a bib around his face
so that he wouldn't drop too much of his meal on the carpet. She then spoke cooingly to him when informing him what courses were available, and gave him the best titbits when the food arrived. Finally after a really good meal
everyone went home to bed to prepare themselves for the ordeal of the next day's ramble.
Day 2 – La Grand Randonnee (sorry about the lack of accents).
Lafayette and Sandyballs were simultaneously woken up by each other's snoring. S.B. went into a sudden panic because he had lost his bag
with his passport in it. Lafayette sighed, he was used to these panic attacks from S.B. Remember the saga of the lost mobile phone at Villa Rosa when all of Europe was put on alert and the S.A.S. put on standby only for the phone to be found on a pile of towels in the lavatory where S.B. had put it down while taking a crap. Well this was a bit like that; ie. the bag and passport were found exactly where S.B. had put them the previous night and had not been carried off by the fiendish goblins
of his overwrought imagination.
And so to the ramble which, of course, was the raison d'etre of this year's Dieppe Raid. When Sandyballs tried to take everyone on a highly suspect route out of Dieppe
towards le Cap du Mont Ventoux Lafayette thought he'd better take over the routemastering.
After all he did know the way to Pourville.
And so the climb up the hill out of Dieppe began
and then down the other side
on a road where there was no pavement and where the French drivers were all homicidal maniacs.
To keep us amused Froggy told us all the funny stories he had told us the day before. ( You know, the ones about his time in the French army,
the days of his amazing sexual magnetism
and tales about His Mate Nick). Someone pointed out that we had heard all this stuff yesterday but Sandyballs said that he never remembered anything so it was all new to him.
We passed a pretty garden just outside Pourville where a patriotic old lady thought we were actually real members of the French football team and cheered us on saying “Allez les beaux Bleus.” It seems that Froggy's choice of bright blue for the celebratory teeshirts was an inspired idea after all. The old lady probably thought we were out on a stiff training run (ramble) before bringing home the World Cup for her to put in her front window.
The weather continued to be fantastic, hot and sunny.
We marched through Pourville receiving the plaudits of all the other folk who thought we were footballers instead of ramblers. B.T. thought we might turn this to our advantage and get free food and drink if we played our cards right. However, as they say, you can fool some of the people most of the time but not all of the people all of the time, and the waiter at Les Regates did not look as if he would fall for B.T's cunning plan.
Les Regates was a very pleasant bar/ restaurant situated at the far end of Pourville right next to the sea.
We all sat outside
with a lot of other sybaritic French people
who were enjoying the good weather and the fantastic food. Much rose wine was drunk
and a lot of chilled French beer. Sandyballs wanted to start a NERDS choir (he'd recently joined a choir in Lewes and thought he could sing), and nominated Lafayette as manager and roady. Apparently Laf's duties would involve supplying the cocaine and hookers (recreational use only) and Froggy could get some different tee shirts from his supplier to make any other choirs jealous.
After lunch we walked back along the promenade looking at all the people swimming or sun bathing on the beach. Suddenly Lafayette who never ceases to be hungry spotted a crepe stall run by (another) little old lady on the prom.
“ Time for pudding,” he thought and then found himself negotiating for six Grand Marnier crepes.
These took quite a while to be produced, as can be imagined, so Lafayette chatted to the old lady about her experiences poisoning Les Sales Boches with poisoned crepes during the recently curtailed hostilities.
Lafayette let her too think we were part of the national football team so as to avoid any misunderstanding about whose side she thought we might have been on.
Finally we made it back to Dieppe
and lodged ourselves in the Sarajevo bar
where we oggled the French jail-bait that was out
and about trying to see how few clothes they could get away with wearing. Aperitifs were taken outide the Ocean Bar
where we drank Irish coffees with Jamesons
(here's to you Matt,)
and then back to the Tout Va Bien for yet another enormous evening meal.
That evening after Sandyballs had again lost his bag and passport and again miraculously found them where he had last put them, we sallied forth back up the Quai Henri Quatre for a digestif. Paco wanted to get us to pretend this time that we were part of the Brazilian football team
(who were still in the World Cup at this stage) and drink their national drink called “caipirinha”.
Laf' had drunk this stuff before with Paco so had a fair idea what to expect. (It's quite nice, actually). The other NERDS being stuck in their ways stuck to calvados.
There then took place an incident which reminded us a lot of when we used to be out and about with Philby. Paco had occasion to go outside the cafe to smoke a cigar and was seen in deep and animated conversation with another young smoker. Lafayette went out to investigate and was introduced to Jean Marc (“Everyone calls me Choco because they like me (!!!!!)) whose father allegedly had been on the Chartres that terrible day when blardey, blardey blah. Choco waxed forth for a while about how terrible it had all been then invited himself into the cafe with Paco for a free drink. The conversation from Choco became more bullshit the more he drank, but Paco, unlike Philby didn't want to make him his New Best Friend nor take him home with him. Laf. and Paco managed to leg it after a while but the ghost of Philby,
always connecting up with waifs and strays still seemed not far away.
The Final Day – Food and Football.
Breakfast at the Tout Va Bien again. The weather continued to be sunny and hot so no more rambling; time for a bit of shopping, peut-etre. Sandyballs had lost all his clean underpants so left the cafe to find an appropriate shop.
Trouble was he had left his bag
– you know, the one with his passport, his deaf aid and all his money in it on the floor next to his chair outside the cafe. Failure to realise this led to instant panic and an undignified scamper back hoping against hope that no old tramp had made away with his belongings and was now making his way to England on a first class ticket. Phew... the precious bag was still lying there on the pavement being pecked at by a local sparrow.
Sandyballs was saved.
Meanwhile Laf. Paco and Curly had all met and ended up outside Le Cafe des Tribunaux
where Oscar Wilde used to share a few drinks with Philby when he was in town. The atmosphere was very continental; people sitting at tables enjoying a post breakfast aperitif, the sun shining down, lazy french accordian music....Hang on, where was that coming from? Then we spotted an old beggar sitting outside the bank opposite plying his accordian trade and with an almost empty hat for money next to him. We reasoned he was probably on a retainer from the cafe to make people (like us) sit around for hours and buy lots more drinks. - Not difficult.
Lunch was taken at Laf's favourite restaurant, Le Bas Fort Blanc,
situated at the far end of the promenade not far from the castle. An excellent place to eat
and very classy.
Thereafter we collected our bags from the Aguado, said farewell to B. T. and Helen who were off to see some rels nearby,
and got a couple of taxis to the port.
Back in the bar of The Seven Sisters (where else?) some of us realised there was a football match about to be played (in Russia) between England and Belgium. This is why all the belgian lorry drivers had gone upstairs to bag the best seats infront of the telly. Those NERDS interested raced upstairs for the show but returned at half time rather disappointed at Englands lack lustre performance and a defeat 1 – 0. Lafayette thought the NERDS should have stayed in France and supported the French team, or at least continued the pretence to old ladies that we were its stars dressed in our magnificent blue.
And so the latest NERDS' Dieppe Raid came to an end. We seem
to have followed more or less the pattern of the first Raid but with slightly less rambling and an awful lot of eating and drinking. Thanks to all for their participation and various contributions to the cause. It was nice to see B.T. And Helen once again, although it's a pity it all turned out a bit pants for Sandyballs.
Next month there's a joint ramble with The Gatwick Darkside so keep an eye out for joining instructions.
Vivent Les Bleus!
Lafayette.
