Joining Instructions for The New Forest Ramble

Joining Instructions for May’s New Forest Ramble 2011

Froggy gets the day right (unlike Sandyballs) and with any luck the organisational skills will be methodized appropriately. Here is the Epistle according to Froggy:-

Guys,

I've just booked our two, twin bedded rooms for two nights at the Rose & Crown on Tuesday 10th May and Wednesday 11th May. I tried to get both rooms in the annexe, but was only offered the usual 1 in the pub and 1 in the annexe. I, for one, have never been privileged to sleep anywhere else but in the pub. So advance warning that I will be challenging for the annexe room, along with Brian (if he'll have me)! This time the rooms may not be available before 14:00 hrs (depending on whether they have been occupied), so we may have to eat first and check-in later. There was also an offer of 20% off on all food, if on-line bookings took place before end of April; though I'm not sure if that also applies to telephone bookings and in my excitement at being promised baked beans for breakfast, I clean forgot to check! I shan't be getting any confirmation by email about the booking (something to do with a "lost" computer code from the previous time, so perhaps Lord Charles and Harry could confirm the booking as well as double checking the 20% off food offer on your trip to Ringwood?

I'm including a useful link or three:-

http://www.driftinn.co.uk/ http://www.rosecrownpubbrockenhurst.co.uk/ http://www.thesnakecatcher.co.uk/

The Drift Inn was the Beaulieu Road Motel (Old Thumper Pub). I can't seem to get hold of the website for the Old Oak at Bank, near Lyndhurst, so maybe I should think of a complete change of direction for the full day and check out the possibilities of going to Burley instead? Plenty of time for research after my Costa Rica trip next week......

Hope yous enjoyed the ramble photies?!

F-F Frog

ps Perhaps I should volunteer to do the driving, as Harry has to drive to France the day after we come back? The skinheads will be taken bowling in whichever car goes!!!!

April Fool's Ramble 2011

NERDS’ RAMBLE No 257 1st April ‘11.

Those Present - Sandyballs, Froggy, Lafayette, Dio,

Matt, Bronco.

The Meeting Bronco Ramble.

Well, despite increasing the font size for last month’s ramble to enable B.T. to fit in all the photos which Froggy may have taken, this arrangement was not to everyone’s liking…” You can please some of the people some of the time, but not…..etc” (Joseph Stalin.) So poor overworked Lafayette had to re-think his next masterpiece so that all myopic NERDS could have access. The new font size is therefore bigger than the original classic style but not so big that it fucks up the way it sits on your personal I-pad, I-phone or what have you. Hope you’re all happy with it now.

Most of us met up on that regular 10 o’clockish train from Seaford where Matt was amusing his audience with the tale of how he’d bought some cord trousers from M&S five years previously ( he’d been invited to join a hush hush secret society somewhere in Seaford, apparently) but had to take them back because the cording had been worn away by all the frottage caused by dubious sexual practices. Not surprisingly M&S had been unwilling to replace the trousers even though Matt had said he’d settle for a free dessert from their expensive food hall instead. You can’t win ‘em all, Matt!

Sandyballs, this month’s route master, met us all at Lewes waving his grandson and heir, baby Flintoff, in our faces. Flintoff took one look at Lafayette and ran screaming for the hills - he seemed to have some hang-up about Lafayette making faces and noises at him. Well, he’s a baby innit? Aren’t they there for people to make faces and noises at them? Anyway, Mrs Sandyballs hurriedly made off with the precious little bundle and Sandyballs gave everyone a lift to his split level, ranch sized residence up the hill.

First off we were given a guided tour of the new secret underground bunker in Mill Rd. which the Sandyballs family had filled up with bottles of champagne and where they all planned to get arseholed watching the royal wedding. This was so they could pick up tips about who to invite later on in the year to the even bigger royal wedding within the family. Maybe Kate and Will will come to theirs…..oooh, exciting!

So aperitifs were taken in the ranch style etc. and much whiskey and coffee was imbibed. Matt said he was going on holiday to Slovenia soon and it was going to cost about as much as presently owed by the Irish economy. Someone suggested he be patriotic and donate the costs of his holiday to the Irish economy, a bit like a sort of Green Nose Day, but this didn’t seem to go down too well. Froggy looked out of the window and thought Sandyballs must have found a new way to play his CDs since they were all festooning his cherry tree. Sandyballs patiently explained it was a secret New Age method of making his tree produce more cherries since the Tree Fairies liked listening to music. Froggy thought this was a good idea and said he would hang some of his own CDs on his son’s bedroom door knob to magic him into being polite to him once more. Nuff said.

Lafayette wanted to know how old the lovely Susannah Reid on television was so Sandyballs got out his laptop and hacked into her webcam. Turned out she was about forty and we could just see her getting ready to go to bed after a strenuous morning on the Breakfast programme. Lafayette then wanted to see what Sharon Stone was doing but Sandyballs vetoed that on the grounds she might not be wearing any knickers and would look too rude.

Anyway, to the ramble. The NERDS climbed up and up the Downs to show Dio the view over the Weald which had all allegedly been covered in forest in Roman times. Dio was impressed; there hadn’t been many ancient Romans in New York and trees were a bit scarce in Manhattan so he kept taking photos like all Americans do. Matt told him that the Romans had felled most of the trees to build a fleet of ships to be led by Princess Diana when she sailed against the Spanish Armada, and Dio was even more impressed with Britain’s strange history.

Eventually, after a lot of slipping around in mud and stuff the NERDS arrived at The Anchor in Ringmer which was Bronco’s favourite watering hole ….. Except he wasn’t there. “ Has an old bald bloke called Bronco been in?” asked Lafayette. The barmaid looked blank and just then Bronco himself breezed in. “Oh you meant Molestor Malcolm, the old git; why didn’t you say? “ rejoined the barmaid, and we knew we’d got the right person.

Bronco looked in fine form having recently got over the NERDS’ Christmas dinner which was when we’d last seen him, so we all sat down and ordered huge lunches. Sandyballs said ( a propos of nothing) that Lafayette’s looks had declined in proportion to the further he had climbed up the Immigration management scale[Pot calling the kettle black! – see Sandyballs’ portrait. Ed.] and that’s why he had scared young Flintoff.

Lafayette was miffed at this and accused Sandyballs of having milked the system during his career by all the lavish expenditure he had incurred with his stays abroad and switching diplomatic residences etc. He implied he was as big a social climber as the Captain and was only having a big wedding for his daughter so that he could get Elton John to play the organ and have Tina Turner and Arthur Brown lead the dancing. Blows with handbags were exchanged and order was restored.

Meanwhile Bronco got on eating his portion of crab brain (he’s a connoisseur, you see) and said although he’d starved himself for several days he was prepared to share his cheese-board with the rest of the NERDS. He then mentioned he’d had a recent invitation to the royal wedding (the real one) in view of his special skills. In fact he was to be employed shovelling up all the horse shit after the royal couple’s procession had passed by. Quelle honneur!

Finally Bronco disappeared in his car with Matt who was taking him home to give him some Catholic, political Fenian lessons which might come in handy for when he did that afternoon’s shift (?) and the rest of us had to get the bus back from Ringmer which was uncomfortable since it was full of pre-pubescent school kids spreading their pre-pubescent miasmic stink everywhere and yelling “Oink” and “Poo” at each other.

However, another good ramble and thanks to Sandyballs for the route and the entertainment. Next ramble should be in the New Forest so we’ve invited Bronco along to pick up all the pony shit which might incommode us.

Bye for now.

Lafayette.

Hey you Nerds,

Next ramble is on Monday 1st April. Also (extremely possibly) celebrating

Sandyballs' freedom from being a wage slave. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, simple joining instructions. The good old 09.58 from Seaford Central.I

will meet you at Lewes station and transport you to my split-level, ranch-style

residence where hospitality will be dispensed. If there are more than 4 of you

then Mrs Sandyballs may well be called upon to help with the chauffering.

As usual, please let me know if you can't make it. I know that the Captain won't

be there as he will be counting people.

See some of you then

Sandyballs

Not the NERDS Ramble March 2011

The Mike Clarke Ramble

This unofficial NERDS ramble occurred on 22nd March, 2011 but although I received no write-up I did obtain the photographic record of the event. It appears that this episode began ‘chez Mike’s’ where gallons of champagne and other dear wines were consumed before the ramble began.

From the photographs it appears that the actual ramble did not begin until shortly before twelve o’clock midday and that the arrival at the pub was just after one o’clock post meridian.

Pints of beer were quaffed, as is usual at these events.

One can see what happened after a satisfactory luncheon and numerous pints of ale – everyone ended up flat out!

However, by about six o’clock that evening everyone was back in another pub drinking more beer!

So everyone enjoyed themselves, drank some, ate some and returned home fully repeat with happy memories.

The next official ramble will be on ‘All Fools day’ and Lafayette’s write-up together with Froggy’s photographs will follow betimes.

BT

THE NERDS. Ramble No.256 - 14.2.11.

Those Present - Lafayette, Sandyballs, Froggy, the Bish, Dio.

Saint Patrick’s Day Ramble.

B.T. wanted this write-up done in big, big format this month so that he could get all Froggy’s photos in; so here goes. Personally Lafayette thought it looked like something out of those Enid Blyton books for those learning to read, and it brought back memories of sitting up a corner at Infants’ School trying to read stories about Noddy and the Wicked Golliwogs. Not a lot different from being in the S.E.A. at TN3 then really.

But to the ramble. There was a notable absence of regulars this month; Paco’s brother (does he have a brother?) was poorly so he couldn’t come. Matt was having his 59^th lavatory installed so was hanging round the house waiting for men to turn up - as usual. B.T. was lying around in France, one hand on a glass of pastis, the other poised over his computer waiting for notification from the U. K. that the NERDS had done something earth shattering (fat chance!) but we did have Matrix Man Dio who specialises in urban rambles (usually around Brighton) and the return of the Bish who had given up a life of ease and small boat sailing to rejoin the fold. ( No word from Captain Haddock; he was probably off somewhere sailing his big boat). So a quorum at least and we all met round Lafayette’s Lavender Lodge to celebrate St. Patrick.

Froggy had thoughtfully provided a Bottle of Jamesons for the occasion and since Lafayette had been down to Lidl and got a bottle of cheapo pocheen there would have to be a comparative tasting. This all went quite well together with the cabaret act by some Irish women on Lafayette’s computer singing the praises of Ryan Air.

Lafayette had even put the milk for the coffee in a little jug since it was a special occasion (Take note, Matt!). [What! No cream, Lafayette.]

Anyway some hours later Lafayette reminded Sandyballs that nice as it was lolling around his subterranean den they had all come together for the serious business of celebrating St. Patrick, and shouldn’t they be out drinking somewhere else?

Everyone piled out of Lafayette’s on to the pavement for a Froggy photo session and then began to proceed to the bus stop in a leisurely way until suddenly overtaken by the very bus we wanted, the NERDS broke into a mad sprint ( at least Lafayette did ). Fortunately everyone managed to get on board and Froggy treated everyone on the top deck to a loud account of his sex life in the seventies until to their relief we disembarked at Rottingdean.

The NERDS tramped around finding interesting pubs that hadn’t opened yet and skirting duck ponds. Then we began to climb the Downs out of Rottingdean. Up and up and up we went waving hello to all the blind people in St Dunstan’s who came out on their balconies to cheer, shortly after followed by all the girlies at Roedean who had never seen a NERD before and were hoping one might be a prince they could possibly marry. (Kissing frogs is probably a safer bet).

Down, down we went past some patriot who had installed a large Irish Flag in his garden, past the East Brighton Golf Club that Sandyballs was absolutely gagging to join, and on, on to Brighton Marina where we thought we might get a cheap lunch at Wetherspoons. The latter, of course was full of Old Gits (cheap, you see) and finally when Lafayette had blagged a table near the window to see the boats, we had a good, cheap lunch and a few beers. Sandyballs bought himself one of those daft, green, leprechaun hats that make you feel Irish (even though you were born in Portsmouth ). Dio looked on bemused and said St. Patrick celebrations in NYC were about twenty million times bigger than over here because on that day everbody thought they were Irish.

Since the Bish was approaching his 70^th birthday he decided after lunch that he was a really Old Git and was going to bottle out of the rest of the ramble so that he could go home for a bit of a snooze. The rest of the NERDS left him at the Marina and took a bus right into the centre of Brighton in search of St Paddy’s pubs. Of course just about every pub in Brighton had put up green decorations, was selling silly hats and charging inordinately high prices for glasses of Guinness.

However the NERDS eventually found their way to The Fiddlers Elbow, an allegedly genuine Irish pub which was chocker block with people dressed up in green stuff getting pissed and being friendly.

We stood outside with our pints in plastic glasses and were engaged in conversation by one (reasonably) sober but certainly Irish denizen of Dublin who had come over for a few days. He was soon joined by what we thought was his mate, although they apparently didn’t know each other at all. This one was pissed out of his head although still friendly, and insisted he showed us his lack of teeth and lack of one of his fingers caused, he reckoned , by fighting. There was certainly some good craic going on at this pub but nevertheless since it was a bit packed we moved on.

The NERDS ended up in the Viceroy, Sandyball’s favourite Brighton pub, where the service was very friendly but a bit slow when we got around to asking for Irish coffees. Froggy got himself a free daft bastard leprechaun hat and had a photo modelling session with Sandyballs, looking together like the Jonas Brothers trying to hide their hair. Lafayette saw a bit of blue sky outside the window and dragged everyone outside to sit at a table in the freezing cold. The sight of lots of people staggering past dressed outrageously and having a good time was entertaining and Lafayette got into a conversation with a girl at the next table who said she’d been pissed since she got up. St Paddy was certainly weaving his magic that day.

And so that was probably the end of the ramble. The NERDS had even done a bit of walking but that hadn’t actually been the point of that day’s outing. Those who didn’t come missed out on a great time; let’s hope that B.T. who is the only NERD who was born in Ireland managed to celebrate St Paddy’s in a suitably riotous way.

Next ramble in a fortnight on April Fool’s Day

- should be fun. Love from Lafayette.

March Ramble Joining Instructions

The March ramble is on Thursday 17th - St. Paddy's Day. Our lunch-time

destination is the Fiddler's Elbow in Brighton. To get there we first go to the

Lavender Lodge where Lafayette is kindly offering to host the ramble - yet

again. Arrive about 10.00 AM. We then catch the bus to Rottingdean where we

take to the hills.

(Hello Nerds ,

I am unable to join you on St Paddy 's Day , as i am in Dartmouth with family . My apologies and hope i don't get the name of Pick and Mix !!!!

I wish you good walking and drinking . Later,

xxx Matt )

April ramble is on the 1st. Details to follow.Hopefully by then your Routemaster

may have his freedom?

May sees us go back to one of our favourite stamping grounds - the New Forest.

Specifically Brockenhurst. The dates are Tuesday 10th to Thursday 12th.Hopefully

we will be joined by BT. Probably not Matt though. Bookings not yet made at The

Rose & Crown and routes not yet worked out !

See you all soon

Sandyballs

Future Dates for 2011

Hi fellow Nerds,

Some dates for your diary. The March ramble is on St. Paddy's day -the 17th.
Details to follow! The April ramble is on the 1st - April Fool's day -
appropriate for the start of Team Working!
As for May, I may well have my freedom by then and be in possession of a large
cheque. Anybody fancy a walk or two in the New Forest? Any dates in mind? Froggy
will probably be the only Nerd left working so we will have to work round his
duties. BT to join us?

Sandyballs

February 2011 Ramble

NERDS’ RAMBLE No 255 - 9/2/11 .

Those Present - Sandyballs, Lafayette, Matt, Froggy, Paco , Captain Haddock.

Where was the Bish?

The hype had been incredible, the NERDS were all on tenterhooks, there was a whisper that The Bish had decided to return to the fold. The longueurs of retirement had apparently got to him - he had tried sailing but had found it too wet and dangerous; he had tried preaching to the masses but no-one had listened to him; he had even tried gazing over the sea for CoastWatch to prevent the UK from being invaded by Somali pirates but found that as an organisation it was somewhat bereft of sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll……..so it was rumoured that he intended to make his big comeback appearance on today’s ramble. We could hardly wait!

But on assembling at Lewes station there was no Bish! Had he been kidnapped? Had he decided to eschew all fleshly things and go and live in a cave? Or was he just afraid of the horrible initiation rites he would have to go through to prove his manhood again? No, none of this. According to the spy in the chords, our sister organisation, (roflmfao), the Bish had simply got a bit of a cold and hadn’t felt like coming. Oh well tant pis, as the French would say, the initiation ceremonies would just have to wait. Sadly, the NERDS put away their razors, knives and other instruments of torture and rambled to the pub. This was the famous Brewers, owned by some of Sandyball’s family and as a result able to open up at 10 00hrs in the morning (for coffee, of course).

Sandyballs had been on a break (not a holiday) to Marrakesh where he had found that absolutely everything, even something as banal as a tube of toothpaste, had to be haggled for down the souk. So after a few days practice he had gone out to put his new found skills to the test and get the NERDS some presents (how thoughtful!)
Dipping into his rucksack he produced some wonderful woolly hats in garish colours with tassels hanging off them. Lafayette collared the least gay looking of these, a masterpiece in grey and brown, while Matt got the orange one and Froggy got the pink one (nuff said). We all agreed they were very special and Sandyballs was very kind, and that they were almost as good as the llama driver ones with ear flaps which he had brought back from Quito some time ago. (Eat your heart out, BT, you aint getting one!).

Well, after all this bounty and a few more coffees we traipsed out of The Brewers and up past the prison to begin the ramble proper over Lewes racecourse. Sandyballs had allegedly sussed out where we were due to go the day before but had managed to get disorientated. He had come up against some squire on a horse who had smashed him across the face with his riding crop and told him to get off his land. Sandyballs had yelled “Shan’t.” at him and had run away so now we were all in danger of grievous bodily harm by going (roughly) the same way. We managed to avoid any confrontations and toiled up over the race course with a brief pause in the middle to admire the windmill some German had built to spite the council. Then we went down the slippery, chalky other side of the Down where Sandyballs inadvertently pissed on someone’s dog, until we finally arrived at The Chalkpit just outside Ofham.

This has always been a good pub with lots of menu options and good beer. The NERDS were placed on a special table in the restaurant and immediately began to quarrel. Froggy reckoned the tassel on his hat was longer that Lafayette’s, but Lafayette said it was what you did with it that counted. It was then discovered that Paco and Froggy had been slagging each other off on Face book (how childish! Wot’s Facebook anyway?) Froggy had apparently alleged that Paco’s dad had been a secret Falangist during the Spanish Civil War (like Philby) and Paco had retorted that Froggy’s mother had been a collaborator in France and should have had her head shaved. Order was finally restored when the food came although Froggy kept muttering something which sounded like “Zizi, Riri, Caca” under his breath. Probably just a French provincial spell to get his own back on Paco.

After a good lunch we marched down into Lewes past BT’s old estate and suddenly found ourselves in The Elephant & Castle where there was a nice roaring fire to warm Lafayette’s bottom and where once again we drank a lot of coffee (and cognac). Froggy revealed that he had another mate (not Nick) who had done something terrible to some girl called Martine, although the gist of the story whatever it was, was lost on most of us. The Bishbog still hadn’t turned up so we wrote him off and said we’d canvass for new blood instead ( like Dio who had, sadly, been waiting in for the Electricity man this week).

So another ramble completed; not a bad one from Sandyballs considering the time of year and the people he has to put up with. Matt and The Captain then crept off back to the chords to tell them how much more fun the NERDS have than them.

Los Nierdos Para Siempre!


Lafayette.

Joining Instructions for February's Ramble

Dear Nerds,
 
Greetings fellow Nerds and welcome back to the fold Tony Titch! God loves a sinner who repents! We walk on Wednesday 9th.
 
This month we are heading for.....I'm not sure yet! It very much depends on (a) the weather and (b) the numbers involved. To explain (b) if our numbers are low then I will be using my motor so we are not tied to bus and train timetables. If there are more than 5 of us then...I will have to think again. OK, if the usual suspects get the good old 09.58 from Seaford I will be at Lewes waiting - hoping for inspiration. If this sounds a bit anarchic and badly planned - that's because.......Anyway,I think you can easily over-organise things, don't you?
 
If anyone is definitely NOT coming can they please let me know? 
 
Sandyballs

The January 2011 Ramble

THE NERDS’ Ramble No. 254 5/1/11.

Those Present - Lafayette, Dio, Sandyballs, Froggy, Paco, Matt.

The New Drink Ramble.

Meet up at Lavender Lodge; That’s what Froggy and Matt did and were immediately purloined by Dangerous Dave, Lafayette’s cockney next door neighbour, who wanted a couple of lookouts to make sure his latest consignment of cocaine could be shifted into his house without any undue interference from The Law. F. and M. duly obliged and were rewarded by Dave’s promise that “he’d see them right when he’d got rid of the gear, like.”

Impressed by the exciting air of lawlessness in Lafayette’s road Froggy and Matt burst into No.12 and demanded tea and fairy cakes. Sighing, Lafayette put down the guns he had been cleaning, (You can never be too prepared with Dangerous Dave as a neighbour) and went to put the kettle on.

Matt was lured into a side room by Mrs Lafayette (both Catholics, you see) and given a brilliant demonstration of Mrs L’s new Christmas I-pad. Matt was most impressed, especially when told that you could actually rewrite history on it so that Sandyballs had become a practising Catholic and the Pope would come over each year to switch on the lights at Lewes Bonfire Night. Lafayette thought he might borrow it to do NERDS’ write-ups on; then the real truth would out and he wouldn’t have to whitewash all the bad things the NERDS really got up to on rambles.

Shortly afterwards they were all joined by Dio, all tooled up for action (leather coat, semi-automatic, Matrix gear etc.) and Sandyballs who had fled his own house where the plague had taken hold and, being a Catholic, and one of God’s anointed, he had managed to escape with just a caution. Matt too had been blessed since God had visited him in a dream and told him that his lack of prostate guaranteed he would not be stricken down by the winter vomiting plague ( - unless, of course, he drank too much on rambles).

There was news that The Bish had slithered up to one of the NERDS and whispered in his ear that he would like to return his eggshell-like personality to the fold. So we all started thinking up what sort of vile forfeits we might impose to humiliate and make him feel wretched for abandoning us to join that boring bunch of nonentities in Seaford who go to pubs and talk about pensions (not like us, oh no, no no…).

Anyway, to the ramble. Lafayette led the NERDS down through sunny (for once) Newhaven, past chez Bob and onward towards where Lafayette had spent the best part of his career incarcerating Algerians and beating the truth out of them in his rabid ambition to get promoted and get out of the place. But just at that moment there was a loud huffing and puffing behind us and we were joined by a disheveled Paco who had overslept and grown a Philby-type beard while he had lain in bed. “ Buenas dias,” he said and then went into some long explanation as to why he had missed the start even by bringing his car over and parking it outside The Engineer. (Good move that, parking your car outside a pub, think about it, Paco).

And so we went over the railway footbridge, past the Algerian killing fields, along the windswept shore towards TideMills, that ruined, long abandoned village where the ghosts of shipwrecked asylum seekers flit about at night longing to return to their native lands but unable to do so because they’re dead.

Of course, we had to meet someone we knew. No, not a ghostly asylum seeker but Keith from the Shore Gang (Who?) walking his dog. The dog was called Bandido on account of the neckerchief he wore round his er.. neck. He seemed very friendly for a ravening wolfhound type Labrador and spent a lot of the time licking Lafayette’s hand
(He must have been able to smell the power….. not the money).

On, on back over The Wetlands (exciting, isn’t it?) until The NERDS arrived at the Flying Fish in Denton and settled themselves down in front of the roaring fire with a first pint. Matt said the Captain wasn’t with us that day because he’d slipped up to the sales at his favourite shop, Austin Reed, to buy a cheap pair of monogrammed pyjamas and yet another cravat with anchors on it. Froggy reckoned he’d gone off to try and ingratiate himself into Cameron’s Cabinet but thought he was bound to fail because he hadn’t been to public school… like Sandy balls had. (NB. Working class people aren’t supposed to go to Public school and fag for the likes of John Rickard).

Anyway, the food at the Flying Fish was excellent and Paco fell in love with the barmaid who (thank God) was a woman of a certain age. We don’t want him taking over where Philby left off, thank you. Froggy told us he was going to walk along Hadrian’s Wall when he retired but it was pointed out he didn’t know any Latin and knew no Romans and was likely to be picked up and incarcerated for being a stroppy Celt if he did so. This didn’t seem to put him off, however.

The next part of that day’s grand adventure led us in the pissing rain to chez Bob, the most In Place in Newhaven to be seen in. This shady club is where you get locked up (or is it “in”) and forced to drink lots of alcohol at unearthly hours, and where if you’re extra special and drink an awful lot, you might end up joining the Engineer Over Sixties Biker Gang. Matrix Man looked interested in this but unfortunately was disqualified on two counts. (Three, if you count his fiancée, Lafayette’s daughter, turning up and threatening him with death if he even considered it).

Big Bob had put on one of his spreads of cheese for the NERDS and refused to accept a penny as usual. Instead his lovely barmaid, Amy, told us that she and Bob had invented a new drink which they wanted to try out on the NERDS. This turned out to be a bottle of Crabbies alcoholic ginger beer together with a double shot of rum (to give it some flavour). Lafayette drank this, pronounced it good and named it “Delice Ingenieur” or for the uneducated, an “Engineer Slammer”. (Thank God Lafayette has been weaned off his sweet tipple “Malibu and Pineapple, Ed.) Since we hadn’t got any money left after today’s depredations we escaped being locked in and slammered to death by running away.

Many thanks to Bob for his hospitality and cheese board, and to Amy for introducing us to a new experience - that girl will go far! See you all soon. Love from Lafayette.

Sandyballs's Message - Future dates

I hope all you Nerds enjoyed yesterday's festivities. Good lunch and the after lunch cheese - thanks to Bob - was very welcome. Oh, the ramble was OK as well!
 
Anyways, to confirm the ramble dates for the next 2 months. February we go on Wednesday 9th. In March we go on THURSDAY 17th - St. Paddy's day. The lunchtime location will be crucial for the latter eveny. Anybody got any suggestions?
 
Sandy

Future Events?

Dear fellow Nerds,

I am now back in the world of electronic messaging ( have a new computer). Does anyone have any thoughts about a date for the Feb Ramble and, while we are at it, the March one aswell? The Cords secretary may well be planning a cruise along one of the few remaining European riverways he has yet to visit. After the end of March myself and Froggy may experience difficulty in putting in duty requests - however we may well be retired by then so it will not matter !

I hope you all had an agreeable Christmas and New Year and are, like me, determined to live the rest of your lives without the curse of alcohol!

Sandy B

Happy New Year to All Our Readers

Next ramble is on Wed. 5th Jan.   Meet at Lafayette's house at 10 30hrs.

After the usual early morning breakfast festivities we shall proceed in the direction of a well known former border outpost of the British Empire (where Men were Men and the word "Immigration" meant something), then over Tidemills and back to Denton where we will take lunch at The Happy Fish (joined there by Matt who has a man in that morning - nuff said) and thereafter we shall take digestifs at Chez Bob, the trendiest bistro in town.

Don't bother bringing any gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh for my birthday the day before on account of what I have lots already.

See you on Wednesday.

Lafayette

January 2011 Ramble - Joining Instructions

Dear NERDS,

The next ramble will take place on Wednesday 5th January, meeting at 10 30 hrs approx chez Lafayette.

Happy Christmas to you all

Lafayette.

The 2010 Christmas Ramble

THE NERDS Ramble no. 252 7/12/10.


Those Present - Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, B.T, El Paco, The Captain, Matt , Mystery Guest.

Christmas Ramble 2010 - Unseen Lewes.

This is traditionally the time of year when NERDS come out of their hidey-holes, shake their blurry heads and gather together to celebrate what they do best - like eating, drinking, slagging each other off, quarrelling, and giving thanks to the
Baby Jesus for all the good weather he blessed the year’s rambles with. Oh, and to ponder who The Mystery Guest might be and whether she (or even he) is likely to be wearing suspenders under that sexy, revealing frock.


There was a good turnout this year with everyone managing to get up in time and get on the same train. 3 from Seaford, 3 from Newhaven all got to Lewes where they had been summoned by Grand Imperial Wizard, Sandyballs, currently the longest serving crossing officer at Newhaven Borderbollocks. The weather was brightish and cold but that day’s route had already been reconnaissanced by S.B. and Lafayette, the famous Pirate Spotter and other Crossing Officer to whom Bad Things Often Happened at Sea (albeit a long time ago).

The Route led past the station and through Lewes Priory grounds where The Captain had once received an expensive education (His father had wanted him to become a monk but the lure of the sea had overcome such lowly ambitions). The Priory Gardens had been gentrified and were now open to the public. The NERDS were treated to nuns reading the notices which themselves revealed how the monks went to the lavvy together in a chummily social way while discussing the higher tenets of Jansenist religion. Matt, Our Eminence Grise, reckoned they were all seeking ways to evade the predestined Fires of Hell which beckoned to those who practised chastity and other unnatural sexual practices. Lafayette reckoned they were just having a good crap and bitching about each other (plus ca change……….).

It was at this point that Lafayette found a frozen pair of teddy bear ear muffs lying on the snowy ground, and appropriated them to wear as his Christmas head gear. On return chez lui his younger daughter had kicked up a stink at this larceny, claiming that he had probably infringed the human rights of some poor little girl who was now squawking her head off at her mother insisting she replace the muffs with a pony to compensate. Lafayette didn’t care; he at least had warm ears and was too old for a pony. (Maybe a BMW like the Captain’s)

Next the route wound through the Grange Gardens, scene of a number of B. T.’s famous marriages (triumph of hope over experience again) and a pleasant spot nonetheless, and on to Lewes cemetery where ghosts floated behind mouldy gravestones and seagulls were busy tearing the flesh off newly interred corpses.
On, on the NERDS hurried in the desperate search for drink to quell these frightening visions until they ended up at a famous Lewes pub, The Brewer’s Droop which fortunately was owned by a relative of Sandyballs, and had the unique quality of opening at 10. 00hrs in the morning to accommodate the requirements of thirsty NERDS.

Here the bourgeois amongst us (Captain, El Paco) pampered themselves with café cognacs and the hoi poloi (everyone else) whacked into the Harveys. Sandyballs and Froggy had been specially selected by Borderbollocks to go over the Channel to give a presentation to Frenchbollocks about how to keep out filthy foreigners. Those who were Old Hands scoffed at this saying the solution was easy; anyone who had a green passport was a foreigner and deserved to be knocked off. Those from North Africa were questioned closely by Matt with his system of flip card questions eg.“Where do you shop for that lovely leather jacket?” and “Have you got a steady boy friend? “and were then handed over to Lafayette whose French was marginally better, to be refused entry properly according to The Law.

A second drink in The Brewers seemed appropriate so topics discussed were Froggy’s retirement scheme(again) and why it should be a good idea to have the next Christmas special at The Bulldog Pub in Brighton (see last month’s write-up to see the compelling reasons why not!). And so we finally departed the cosy Brewers atmosphere to walk down the sun-laden streets of Lewes to The Snowdrop where the Christmas Extravaganza was to be held.

Actually, now Lafayette pondered it, there seemed to be no particular compelling reasons for shunning the Bulldog next year. I mean, The Snowdrop was clearly twinned with The Bulldog and in fact was even more outrageously camp being run as it was by a couple of punk strangey types who fortunately had a good cook on the premises. We all sat down on the hard benches at the hard tables. Fortunately, the table decorations were superb - crackers wine glasses, tablecloth- and we then began to guess the identity of The Mystery Guest. Froggy reckoned it was Philby so began ordering lots of red wine. Matt reckoned it was Troy so began making his pitch for having refused the most Algerians in the year. Lafayette reckoned it was Shirley because she liked a drink and sometimes wore a frock; and B.T. reckoned it was Angelina Jolie because he was a fantasist and was due for a new wife.

In the end we heard the sound of hooves clattering to a halt outside and the neighing of a fiery steed . “Good God “ exclaimed Lafayette, “It’s The Lone Ranger!” but it was only Bronco who came in and beamed at everybody in a sort of Bronco-like way.
He was very welcome; we hadn’t seen him for ages and we had been wondering suspiciously if he had succumbed to the lure of a “package” and had ridden off into the sunset. But no, it was the same old Bronco with his bumbling gait and his lascivious jokes.

The lunch was absolutely magnificent including lots of mulled wine, venison, Christmas pud, mincey pies and tons of wine and brandy. The Punkyfellahs had really done us proud; Long live The Snowdrop! But of course, fired up with alcohol the quarrelling began…. Sandyballs made some comment about B.T. living in the lap of luxury in the South of France; and B.T. replied tartly that at least he didn’t live North of the Ouse in a sink estate like Sandyballs.(So there!) Matt suggested joining up for an evening with our favourite sister organisation, the cords, but this was stamped on because all they talked about was work and their pensions and who Steve and Tina were swinging with this week (allegedly according to Wikileak). Froggy said he had plans to go daughter swapping with some friends of his but the rest of us strongly suspected his true motives. Paco was still in love with Susan Boyle because his skeleton wasn’t keeping him warm in bed any more; and Matt was in love with Liberace because of the way he tickled everybody’s ivories. La Grande Querelle came with the parting up of the bill, of course, since everybody reckoned they’d been charged for drinking alcohol and none of them had (yeah….).

Anyway somehow we settled up and set off back to our respective homes; B.T. to drink all Lafayette’s calva and Paco back to snuggle up to his skeleton. The food had been excellent and it had been nice to see Bronco again. Thanks be to Sandyballs for his interesting routing and to Froggy for the photos which showed us all getting older.
We never did see Troy or Philby - guess they just couldn’t make it (Sigh)


Happy Christmas, you NERDS.


Lafayette.

The NERDS Christmas 2010 Ramble

The December, Christmas Ramble 2010

The chosen hostelry for this event is the Snowdrop Inn. As we are visiting the abode on the 7th December this year we hope that there is no likelihood of a repeat occurrence of the event on the 27th December 1836.

That was when the greatest avalanche in Great Britain occurred.

Here are the Joining Instructions from Sandyballs:-

Don't forget that this event is on TUESDAY 7/12. The usual 09.58 from Seaford Central and I will meet you all at Lewes for a bit of a mystery tour. Matt has a secret assignation in the morning so wil not be walking with us but will meet us at the Snowdrop.

Let us hope the elements are kind to us. The Mystery Guest has purchased a slinky new frock for the occasion!

SandyB.

November's Ramble 2010

NERDS’ RAMBLE No. 252 - 17/11/10.

Those Present - Lafayette, Sandyballs, Froggy, Matt, El Paco, Dio.

The Urban Ramble.


The previous week Mr and Mrs Sandyballs had gone shopping in Brighton for a wedding dress for Princess Rebecca who was due soon to marry The Earl of Warwick and had fallen by chance on an upmarket restaurant which Sandyballs was eager to try out on the NERDS. The particular day of the ramble it was cold and shitty; dull and blustery; just the day for an urban ramble where nobody would get blown about on high hilltops but might instead find a few cosy pubs to hibernate in. The NERDS were joined by a Mystery(ish) Guest, a foreigner who Lafayette had bribed some I.O. to let into the country so that he could marry his No. 1 daughter. This was the leather clad Yank, Dio, a strong but silent type who Matt immediately bonded with because of his fancy coat.

Off we all went to Brighton where Sandyballs, holding a few bits of paper tried to convince us that this was a proper ramble with cows and sheep and landscapes and stuff. Not a chance! This was just Brighton on a crap day. Still, Dio thought it was exciting; you know what Americans are like about tourism. No sooner had we got within spitting distance of The Royal Pavilion than he whipped out a camera and was taking pictures and asking questions about Mad King George.We tried to tell him that this particular Scots bloke had been ousted in the last election and was busy writing his memoirs but Dio would have none of it; he was convinced that the Prince Regent had built himself a house in Brighton to get away from his domineering father - and who were we to disillusion him?

As a result of all this culture the NERDS were getting thirsty but each pub they tried refused to open. “What was going on?” they thought. Had Brighton heard the NERDS were on the rampage or something. Had everyone’s daughter been locked up? We were even willing to pay for our drinks. Eventually, after we had been refused entry to four different pubs Sandyballs consulted his guide and led us into an amenable hostelry called The Bulldog.

Nice place, we thought. At least it sells Harvey’s. Matt sat himself comfortably beneath one of those quirky slide shows you see at people’s birthdays and retirements, you know , the ones where people with long hair and sideburns hug their slim wives, or where everyone sits around at a barbecue with a raised glass, ie. the way we once were when we were young and carefree. Ha, ha; this slide show showed handsome and nakedish young men draped on towels and covered in slimy soap (at least, I think it was) or else actually kissing each other. My god, hadn’t these people heard of girls!
But there you go, at least the beer was good and everyone inside was very friendly.

Tiring of all this decadence Lafayette dragged everyone out of the drinking hole and marched them round to his favourite macho gun shop. “Ah, Mr Lafayette,” the owner exclaimed. “ you have come to buy yet another Kalashnikov, how many is that now , four or five? And you have brought your little companions, are we to fix them up too with nasty weapons so that you can make your mark back in Pakistan again?” Lafayette mumbled something about just popping in to get a tin of pellets and tried to saunter coolly out of the shop before more hideous details of his personal life were revealed . Dio was advised to put down the Thompson sub machine gun he wanted to try out round the back; such vulgar displays of enthusiasm aren’t British, he was told.

Now to The Cricketers pub, a haunt of Brighton players and thespians, with plushy covered seats and discreet lighting. You can’t say that Brighton doesn’t encourage illicit sexual relations everywhere. The NERDS all sat bolt upright not daring to touch knees - you never know who might be watching. Matt told us a fascinating tale of how he had nearly bled to death that morning trying to rescue a twenty pence piece that had fallen under his bed (wow!) and Froggy claimed The Office would miss him when he was gone because he alone tidied up after everyone else, darned their socks and entertained them with morose guitar music. Matt claimed that he used to do Fridge Watch all by himself just to make sure there was always enough food to feed the seagulls, and Paco chimed in, with his bid to be Office Treasure by virtue of putting all the office lottery money on red in the casino in Dieppe and managing the tea club so that every Algerian who was refused got a glass of champagne before being chucked back on board the boat.

Finally Sandyballs got everyone to follow him to his new-found restaurant. This was Gekko’s which allowed O.A.Ps to stuff as much as they could for £3.99, although you were only allowed two hours to do it in. Bitterly disappointed as he was not to get the Old Gits’ reduction, Froggy thought the concept was manna from heaven. Well, not quite, but not far off . There was about twenty five yards worth of sizzly, succulent buffets encompassing Chinese, Indian, Mexican. American, Italian foods. And so the NERDS dived in. After a thirteen course meal Froggy thought he’d go for his fifth attempt at the soup but found by this time he couldn’t get up. Matt was busy shovelling stuff into his pockets for later while Dio massacred a beef burger. We all agreed that Sandyballs had made a good find here and it became one of the few places to get a NERDS Approved sticker (when we get round to having them printed).

On, on for a Nostalgia trip down to The Great Eastern to see if the ghost of He Who Drank Too Much Red Wine might still be sitting up a corner listening to shite country music and drinking wine - but surprisingly enough he wasn’t. Apparently everyone at some time had been dragged down here by Philby to be shown “this marvellous, bohemian pub full of amazing atmosphere,” Lafayette thought it was fairly ordinary, really although the books were good and Froggy resumed reading the one he’d had to put down last time. We asked Dio, as a newcomer, his opinion of it , and he opined again that “It was very British” Yeaah, well…

Bascally that was it and we all cleared off home. It had been an interesting ramble, especially the bit in the non girly Bulldog pub, and Sandyballs is to be congratulated on his choice of lunch venue. We hope Dio didn’t find it all too strange and that he stays long enough to assimilate “British” social mores.
Love from Lafayette.

November 2010 Joining Instructions

This month's event will take place in the fair city of Brighton - an urban ramble. This is partly so we can lunch at Gecko's - an all-in buffet experience which myself and Mrs Sandyballs sampled the other day. Exceptional value at just £3.99 for the over-60s! Yes, I know that Froggy doesn't qualify but we can probably smuggle him in with us at the same price. If not he can pay the full rate of £6.99 - so what, he has millions of £s in the bank!

Instead of getting the bus - which would further annoy F -F-F - I suggest we take the train as it is easier to co-ordinate a railway timetable than a bus one. So, the 09.58 from Seaford picking up at Newhaven Town and Lewes.

Plenty of pubs in town to keep us from dehydrating! One word of warning - this is an inner-city ramble so that means PAVEMENTS. So, NO MOANING about lack of footpaths, trees and grass, etc.!!

Sandy

The October Ramble

THE NERDS’ Ramble No. 251

Wednesday 27th Oct. 2010.

Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, Sandyballs, Matt, The Captain, (El Paco).

The Skeleton Ramble.


Matt was playing host that day so met the faithful at Seaford Station wearing his brown corduroy driving cap. Lafayette fancied one of these but thought it looked a bit gay unless you could persuade everyone it was actually a Breton fisherman’s hat. Fat chance of that ! he’d have to wear his ferret poacher’s flat cap instead then everyone would know he came from North of Watford and kept ferrets in his coat pocket (Ouch!!)

So to Matt’s for pre - ramble hospitality. Well! The lavishisity of it all ! There were cut glass tumblers for the Jamesons , lots of choccy bics, even coffee was laid on by Matt’s young negro servant who now followed him every where and called him “Master” (an old NERDS’ tradition dating from the Quazi days of “He Who Drank Too Much Red Wine“). We were ushered into the front room where we could do least harm and started interrogating El Paco as to why he was dipping out of rambling with the rest of us.

Now, Dear Readers, you are going to find this very hard to believe; in fact by general consensus this was to be the worst excuse ever so far heard for getting out of a ramble: Apparently El Paco was having a skeleton delivered that afternoon and had to be in to receive it! What the fuck was going on we all thought ; had El Paco become Head of the Seaford Mafia and was carrying out a routine sweep-up operation; or else had he conceived a somewhat dubious passion for He who Drank Too Much Red Wine and felt he was unable to live without him? No, nothing as exotic as these (Thank God); Simply that his daughter, the lovely Lara, had become a medical student and needed her practice skeleton sent home for her to…er practise on.

Away from all the luxury of chez Matt the NERDS went outside, found a bus stop and started the ride to Beachy Head(ish). Froggy , of course had to pay a small fortune to get there because of his delicate age while the rest of us sat around for free in Old Git mode. Finally we got somewhere near Eastbourne where it was high and windy and where we could descend into the town over Downish sort of grassy paths.

Somebody obviously knew the way as we weaved through quite nice streets in The Meads area though Matt (who was that day’s route master) led from the back. He did however know where a good place for lunch was since we ended up in The Ship, a very posh place with actual carpets on the floor and sexy barmaids for our delectation. The NERDS finding it hard to settle, moved tables about three times to get the most advantageous view of the barmaids and wondered about keeping a couple of seats free since Paco had threatened to join us for lunch and was going to bring his skeleton as a (sort of ) Mystery Guest. Lunch was excellent and quite reasonably priced too.

Just as we were reluctantly leaving The Ship and bracing ourselves to go out into the nasty blowy autumnal weather, we were hailed by a familiar voice. It was El Paco who was late (as usual ) and said it was because his skeleton had stood him up and hadn’t wanted to come with him for lunch. However, he had travelled over in his car and when asked for a lift back made no bones about agreeing (ha,ha).

Matt who knew this part of Eastbourne quite well then directed everyone down the road to another pub called The Pilot. This was a more chummy place with an ugly barman and no carpet on the floor but friendly nonetheless. Since Paco had already missed lunch at The Ship he settled here to devour a huge steak. Meanwhile Matt was spreading a rumour that the Chords were going into liquidation and were going to make all their funds over to the NERDS since we were a registered charity (for Old Git Drinkers). Nobody believed him especially since Goldenballs was a chords founder member and was unlikely to part with a penny.

After a while here we all squeezed into Paco’s car and headed back to Seaford where we ended up in The Plough catching up with Andy Cap Julian Thomas. He was fleeing both his brothers and the dreaded Rocket Radio in Lewes and preparing to spend the winter in Hong Kong and Manila where it was more likely to be warm and sunny than over here. Not a bad idea, we thought, but instead we should have to stay here and take part in the “Mike Clarke Ramble “ which sadly will not be written about since it’s not NERDS’ official.

So, thanks to Matt for route mastering and enabling us to see how the other half live, and thanks to El Paco for the lift and we were all disappointed not to have met his
new friend. Maybe next time, although Matt’s worried he will turn up with a big scythe over his shoulder.

Never mind , it will soon be the festive season so the NERDS can all spend their time going into pubs and drinking stuff - for a change.

Bye bye.


Lafayette.

November Ramble

Here we are just ten days from the November ramble but still awaiting joining instructions. Furthermore, we are still awaiting for the October "write-up" from Lafayette, but that is excusable as he has a whole host of family arrangements to make. If we do not hear from Sandyballs soon I might have to organise an interim publication!

The next ramble is on Wednesday the 17th.

NERDS’ 250TH RAMBLE 29TH SEPT TO 1ST OCT. 2010

Yet Another Dieppe Raid

Those who went - Sandy balls, Lafayette, Froggy, B.T. Muscles Matt.

The First Dieppe Raid took place in 1989 and was actually Ramble no. 10 (you’ve all read the shit that Lafayette wrote then and which B.T. purloined from his records to bring along). Now those who had gone originally were all 21 years older (except Philby who couldn’t come with us for several pressing reasons). So what had happened to them in the meantime?

Well, Matt was now 70 and had had spectacular amounts of bits cut from the temple that is his body; B.T. now on his 3rd wife had moved lock , stock and barrel (literally in some respects) to France and was busy enjoying the fat of the land; Froggy was still waiting to be invited to perform guitar solos before a screaming mob of fans at Shay Stadium but had become a famous author (although not as famous as Lafayette); Sandyballs had won the Tour de France twice but was now serving a ban for drinking too much Harvey’s before his last race; and Lafayette, well apart from rising through the ranks to become Chief Inspector and taking over the entire running of The Immigration Service had had a biblical flash of truth, realized what a load of rubbish the Organisation and his selfish ambition had been and had delegated the safety of the country to a bunch of inferior and totally incompetent subordinates. A lot of water under a lot of bridges, I’m sure you’ll all agree.

And so the NERDS found themselves once again in the bar on a cross channel ferry
( Oh yes, I forgot to mention some small accident that Lafayette had had on board a similar boat about 1990 but a veil will be drawn over this due to lack of interest),
Anyway the NERDS had just finished Sandyballs’ bottle of Spanish brandy and were wondering what else to drink when Froggy started to relate the squeamish history of his sebaceous cyst which made everyone want to throw up the magnificent cooked breakfast they had enjoyed in the terminal. Nothing for it but to visit the Duty Free shop and invest in a litre of cheap(ish) Jameson’s to settle our stomachs and recover entirely.

But who was this coming over to see us? A fellow passenger from the past, a former employee of B.T. in the glory days when the ship’s cinema had actually been a going concern. It was she of the blonde hair and pouting lips, someone who had been on the boat with us for the first Dieppe Raid and who looked not a day older than she had that day - it was Brigitte, most famous of the Boat Girlies who had used to succour and comfort us when we needed female company the most. Hurrah! Brigitte was now living in France with her bloke, Roger, and running a knick-knack shop in Dieppe.

Brigitte was pleased to see us ( I think ) and revealed that she and other Boat Girly, Sally, had used to call Froggy “Cutey Phil” because he had had such a gorgeous pustulating sebacious cyst on his back which had used to excite them both in a naughty way when they had been bored with doing all that pole dancing and waiting on hand and foot. Well, we always wondered why nobody had ever responded to Philby’s attempt at seduction by reading crap poetry - you’ve just got to be an ugly hunchback to make women show an interest.

Anyway “Cutie Phil” tried to impress Brigitte with an account of how he had given up drinking beer because it was bad for his hump and how he had instead turned to drinking lager because of all the different orgasms (sic)it had in it. Brigitte showed a distinct interest in this new and fascinating form of medicament and vowed to try it out for herself. B.T. said he was going to get a still and manufacture eau de vie with added chemical orgasms ( by now the bottle of Jameson’s was kicking in and obviously had a lot to answer for!)

The NERDS managed to get off the boat somehow with promises to meet up later with Brigitte for an orgasm or two in a French bar. Then it was round to the Hotel Aguado to check in. After this it was straight to the Café de la Paix round the corner to test out the local pression (beer). Froggy at this point found himself in dire need of a lie-down so crashed out to leave the first day’s walking to his fellow NERDS.

The Church of the Presque Naufrage Types is always good for a mini ramble mainly because it’s not far away (ie just on top of the cliff at Dieppe) and also because the way there is steep and windy (no, not winddy, windy). Here the God fearing French light candles for their loved ones who got torpedoed by the nasty Bosch or who got sucked down to the depths by vile sea monsters. Lafayette looked in vain for any candles lit to commemorate his own escape from a sticky death many years ago but his own legend had apparently died out. It seems these days you’ve got to be a dead NERD to be famous.

B.T. nearly qualified for legend status by falling arse over tit by some steps and nearly ruining his camera and his fair features. Must have been the Jameson’s again. So back to the Aguado for an official snooze and to make sure that Froggy hadn’t escaped.
(He hadn’t). The view from our rooms was magnificent, straight over the pelouse towards the sea - what more could the NERDS want? Lafayette knew, he wanted calvados so mounted a trip to Shoppi to get more supplies. Foolish like he left his bag of bottles openly in his room where …. But that’s a story for later.

That evening, in honour of Philby, dinner was taken at Le Grand Duquesne, probably the most expensive restaurant in Dieppe and where Philby was convinced he was a personal friend of the patron. (Here and every where else). It must be said that the place lived up to its culinary reputation. Lafayette thinks he had moules marinieres but wasn’t sure. However if he did they were magnificent. He remembers that the steak was extremely tasty and that pichet after pichet of red wine kept coming, (apart from B.T. who insisted on drinking nancyfied rose wine because he now lived in the South of France). I expect he’ll be painting pictures of naked women next!

Back to the Aguado where Lafayette’s calvados was broken into without his permission. Lafayette was most miffed at this; the calva wasn’t for him, he protested, it was a present for the Chilean miners to congratulate them on escaping from the bowels of the earth and not having a memorial plaque put up to them in the Presque Naufrage Church. A token of sympathy to show solidarity with other poor people who would probably miss out on legend status as well as Lafayette. Unfortunately the rest of the NERDS just thought Lafayette wanted to keep all his calva to himself (as if…)

Day Two

Lafayette woke up feeling like shite, and what is more his watch had broken - just as well it was only a cheap one given to him by the crew of The Chartres instead of a plaque in the church. What was he to do? Lafayette being a control freak had always had a very precise sense of time and now he would have to rely on Sandyballs. The latter was lying there ( in the next bed, he hastened to add) snoring his head off. Never mind, down to breakfast where Matt insisted on sitting at his own table; he was obviously disgusted at the drunken shenanigans exhibited by the rest of the NERDS the night before, poor thing! B.T read out selected bits of the write-up of Dieppe Raid One and we all realised that nothing much had really changed since 1989 except we were all now a bit older, and obviously, much more responsible.

Time for a walk. The NERDS walked along the front of the Aguado in sight of the beach, past the Casino where Hamish MacFindlay and El Paco had conspired to break the bank and failed (just practising on the fruit machines on The Versailles isn’t really the best way to defraud a professional casino), up to the Select Hotel which was sadly no more now than some corporate insurance building, and up the hill. Many years ago Lafayette had discovered a short cut out of Dieppe on to the road to Pourville which consisted of going up a very steep bit that led up to a stadium. He now dragged the NERDS up this mega gradient to the annoyance of CuteyFrog who winged on about chest pains, sore feet, not being valued enough etc. etc.

At the top we paused for a little rest then descended into Pourville towards this famous village where the local industry was just…..oysters. It was obvious that nobody here ate anything but oysters. There were places selling oyster sandwiches, bars selling oyster juice, restaurants selling oyster omelettes and oysters and chips.
Because oysters have a well known effect of making people dead randy the upshot of this was that all the male population were in bed soundly sleeping off the previous night’s sexual excesses while the place was being run by a load of bleary eyed women who could hardly put one foot in front of another.

Pourville was obviously a victim of its own amazing commercial success. The NERDS settled into a café where the waitress, after much searching, found a few beers amongst all the oyster aperitifs which the NERDS thought it wise to ignore.
Lafayette got hungry and nipped up the road to the nearest oyster bar for an oyster sandwich while CuteyFrog entertained everyone with his Pammy Gelly song -
Something to do with green fingers and Lithuanian compost (look, don’t ask me; that’s what the notes say). A bit of fun was had after lunch by chasing after ‘sales mouettes’ along the sea front but since the local women were all starting to hitch up their skirts and advance in a predatory way, the NERDS thought they ought to shift before their honour was impugned. (the NERDS’ honour, that is).

Out of Pourville we went and up, up, up another steep short cut until we came to the calm oasis of very posh houses with huge front gates and deer parks for front gardens which is where the Dieppe bourgeoisie barricaded themselves away from the crappy French peasants working in the oyster industry. Lafayette thought there might be a few rich widows knocking about round here and mentally stored up the location for future reference. Meanwhile a nasty dog came out of a gothic witch’s house which Lafayette scared off by hurling the appropriate mediaeval, French curse at it and turning it into a quivering dormouse.

We came to an interesting path through some woods which we took just for the hell of it and then down a slope to a sort of bay in front of the sea. “Whoopee, the sea!” said the NERDS and began throwing stones into it (as you do). Anyone would have thought that nobody was used to the sea, hadn’t worked on top of the sea or indeed didn’t actually live by the sea like all the NERDS did. Matt got sick of admiring the sea and said he wanted to become NERDS’ Eminence Grise. There had been a Quasi who had fawned over Lafayette but was now defunct but the Eminence Grise would wield real power in a sort of secret,insinuating way. CuteyPhil was voted in as the new Quasi because he would be likely enough the receive the biggest lump sum of everyone when he retired and could put it towards the whip for the next Dieppe Raid.

And so back to Pooville (I wonder who called it that after a few drinks) where we had a drink or two at a bar run by a bloke this time who was gearing up for his own evening meal of you know what’s on toast and looking forward to yet another night of bacchanalian excess. Here we saw an advert for an itinerant zoo which was going to appear in Dieppe that evening. NB this was not under any circumstances something that might be termed a circus because that would contain animals and cruelty and stuff and would not be allowed by law. Someone suggested we sell CuteyPhil to the
“zoo”as an interesting biological specimen but he himself wasn’t keen and the Eminence Grise banned this decision on the grounds that we needed to lure Brigitte down to Dieppe that evening for a drink, and the offer to see The Hump again might just swing it.

Back at the Aguado Lafayette managed to phone Brigitte and after he had described in detail what oysters do for the female psyche got her to meet us for a drink or two. The NERDS took her to L’Ancrage, a restaurant on the front which looked OK and which turned out to be not bad at all. Brigitte spent the evening telling us tales of what we had all (allegedly) done on the boats twenty years ago ( did you know that Philby had proposed to her on every single crossing, or that B.T. was only now living in France to avoid being banged up by H.M. Revenue and Customs for not paying tax on the absolutely enormous amounts of money he had made out of the cinema?)

After Brigitte had left to drive home The NERDS repaired to the Cambridge bar where two incidents occurred. Firstly Lafayette erroneously thought that CuteyPhil was alleging that he was a better and more famous writer than Lafayette himself. How could this possibly be since Lafayette had box-files full of utter rubbish dating back to 1988 which thousands of fans were urging him to publish on the internet. Anyway Lafayette got miffed and wacked his friend over the head with his man-bag (Lafayette’s got previous for doing this to Philby in Belgium). Actually CuteyPhil had just requested another drink and had been rummaging in Lafayette’s bag for the whip.
Secondly, Sandyballs had had a visit from The Dump Fairy. She it was who visits you clandestinely while you’re having a dump, waves her wand over you and makes you forget everything that you did for several hours before your dump. Sandy balls was totally unable to remember anything at all which had happened to him that afternoon; he couldn’t remember going rambling, he couldn’t remember having dinner with Brigitte, he couldn’t even remember having had a dump so powerful was the Dump Fairy’s magic. Not that drink had been involved in these incidents…..Oh no, no no.

Day 3

There had been an explosion in the night outside Lafayette’s window. He was the only one to hear this since Sandyballs was still under the influence of enchantment, but the next day there were bits of shredded tiger wrapped round the traffic lights outside the window. Lafayette wondered whether this was CuteyPhil trying to get his revenge by disturbing his sleep but no, it was obviously some animal rights person protesting about the illegal use of animals at the “travelling zoo” which was being erected on the pelouse in front of the hotel. Lafayette went back to sleep muttering darkly.

Next matin he made his peace with C.P. who made him feel guilty because he had only wanted another drink and was in no way seeking to rubbish Lafayette’s great literary reputation. It turned out that the “French” lady who brought the breakfasts was in fact English and had been hiding her true nationality because she thought she might be deported by us lot. Apparently she had once picked up a threepenny bit in the street in Folkestone in 1952 when she had been a starving child and had not handed it in to The Proper Authorities. The NERDS assured her that her secret was safe as long as she kept serving up yummy breakfasts at the Aguado.

The morning was spent round The Sarajevo bar for elevenses where we read in the local newspaper about the burden put on the Dieppe Pompiers by the infestation of sales guepes after which we went into the Church of Saint Jacques in search of divine inspiration, only to find it was full of Old Trouts trying to save their miserable souls. Matt took all this soul saving seriously, but then again he was now NERDS’ Eminence Grise which was a promotion from merely being Religious Advisor, and which gave him more influence and power (and Catholic Guilt).

Finally to the Tout Va Bien for lunch which was really excellent and did a great omelette and chips (mushrooms not oysters) and lots of pichets of red wine.
That day the weather turned from being pleasant, sunny and autumny into miserable, drenching rain but the NERDS didn’t care; we had had our fun, done our rambles, flirted with Brigitte, had a few nice French meals and were ready to go home.

We hid in The Aguado until it was time to get the boat (This was a new one according to C.P. who claimed it was called The Cote D’Ivoire and was crewed by Africans - not that anybody saw any - we were all too knackered). However after dinner on the boat Lafayette reluctantly brought out his bottle of calvados again and was told by a member of the French crew that drinking this on the boat was forbidden…. Terrible consternation on the part of the NERDS until the crew member said he would only allow us to drink it out of proper calvados glasses which he kindly supplied. Shows that some of the French still maintain proper standards about the important things in life.

So another Dieppe Raid completed. It had been interesting to revisit some old haunts and to see an old friend. Even the weather had been OK for titting around in restaurants and bars, and even for doing a bit of walking. Thanks to all the NERDS for taking part and making it another thrilling experience and especially to S.B. and C.P. for getting the cheap tickets. Lafayette has got to do the same thing all over again the next week with the Darkside lot from Gatwick ; thank God they don’t drink as much or quarrel ……
Ha, ha.


Au revoir for now, mes amis.


Lafayette.




In Memoriam

Lafayette’s sister, Jane, died aged 57 on 8th September 2010. Jane had been a great friend of the NERDS for many years. She had hosted them at her house in Broseley on a number of occasions usually in September. The meals she had laid on were little short of amazing and her original ideas for themed dinners made for truly spectacular entertainment. It was she who made us all wear fancy dress, who gave us all yo-yos and who set off fireworks on her lawn to celebrate our being with her. She will be sadly missed, especially by Lafayette.

Ramble Dates for October, November and December 2010

First of all, thanks to Matt for volunteering to host and set the October ramble on 27.10.2010. A generous gesture particularly as a huge Irish 'fry' is promised for all with lashings of rashers! Can't wait! What time should be there, salivating, Matt?

Now we may have to rearrange the date of the December Xmas spectacular as on Wednesday 8th I am travelling to Poole for the important ISU BEC. Not just a chance to stay in a a swanky hotel and drink and eat at ISU member's expense - oh no! Shall we make it the Tuesday 7th, so that it shouldn't compromise BT's travel plans? Let me know any objections.

The date for the November ramble is apparently Wednesday 17th

Sandyballs

250th Ramble - Joining Instructions

Well, here they are, just eight days before we are due to depart.
**********

Only a week to go until the extravaganza of the 250th. Just to repeat, we go out at 10.00 AM on Wednesday 29th. Suggest we meet at the Transmanche Departure Terminal no later than 9AM. Don't forget your passport! Also, some wet weather gear and plenty of money/ credit cards.

There will not be T-shirts this time because of a general apathy/indecision about design, etc. Never mind, outrageous headgear may have to suffice. After all we want to stand out from the crowd in those Froggy/ BT photos!

See you on the day

Sandyballs

250th Ramble (Dieppe Raid "x") First Arrangements

As a footnote to Froggy's recent email concerning the 250th ramble(s) in Dieppe. Time is getting short and we really have to start booking things. I think we are only now waiting on Paco and Mike to let us know if they are going to join us. Without getting too 'heavy' about this I will have to put a deadline of this Friday 3rd. If I don't hear from you too guys by then I will have to assume that you will not be going. Froggy and I will then try to book ferry-tickets and Lafayette will do the hotel booking.

On another point, do you want commemorative T-shirts? I don't mind organising this but again I need some decisions. If you want one please let me know and what size you want. I think we could mostly be happiest with the Fatboy XL!!

Sandyballs

2010 August's Write-up

The NERDS’ Ramble No 249. 25. 8. 10.

Those Present - Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Matt.

The Ramble When Nobody Actually Rambled.



To all those NERDS who didn’t take part this month, you had better start weeping with frustration right now since Froggy’s well laid plans to go all over East Sussex were laid low by the crappy weather.

Lafayette woke up that morning; outside his window everything was dull and drab
(Newhaven again). Apart from that it threatened heavy rain in the sky, a sinister fact which not even the brilliant (and apologetic ) smile of Carol-on-the-telly could mitigate. No question , it was going to be pissing down all day and any rambling would undoubtedly be put in serious jeopardy.

But to quote one of us, “Are we not NERDS?” (I’ve never actually understood this; what the fuck else are we likely to be? A group of avid hill walkers? not exactly,
A collection of keen explorers -hardly; a bunch of lazy-arsed piss-artists - never!)
Any way, we were NERDS so we should have to do something with the day.

I know, let’s all go round to Froggy’s and lay waste to his supplies of drink and choccy bics . We might even get in a bit of raping especially if he’s got one or two old cats lying about. The prospects for the day began to brighten (at least for Lafayette).

So we went through the complicated joining instructions. Sandyballs to meet Lafayette on the train to (perhaps) be met by Froggy at Seaford station, and was Noddy Derek, h/o the lovely Carys going to come as previously hinted? Nope, that day it was just four hardcore NERDS as detailed above. Lafayette was relieved; at
least there’d probably be enough cats to go round when it got down to the raping.

In the event, as soon as Lafayette put his nose round Froggy’s patio into the garden some sexy looking feline with a bell around its neck gave Lafayette a hard look and took off at a rate of knots. Never mind; at least Froggy, seeing Lafayette’s frustration put a bottle of Paddy’s down in front of him and invited him to partake.

Froggy’s place is very nice. It’s very clean and tidy with lots of exotic plants in his conservatory giving the impression of being a well kept jungle. And so what did we do? We went and sat outside in the spitting rain at a table covered with rotten apples and got bombarded by pissed-up wasps. The coffee was OK, the biscuits fine, even the Paddy’s was very pleasant but the milk was served in a very cracked jug!
This awful social faux-pas was swiftly brought to Froggy’s attention and he was told that this might spoil the whole day for the NERDS (especially combined with a lack of shaggable cats).

Since the weather was rapidly deteriorating, and since we had long since run out of Paddy’s, someone decided we ought to go somewhere else. Froggy gave the committee five different complicated alternatives, none of which made any sense in the present circumstances, and in the end we decided to get on the free bus at the end of Froggy’s road and get to the Golden Galleon before all the Old Trouts etc. etc.


Hooray! We got to the Golden Galleon relatively early so no problem getting a seat outside in the rain for the first pint. (Who’s daft idea was that?). Not wanting to get totally wet at this stage, (remember, we had a long ramble to do) we went back inside and got a good table. Matt began chatting up the fourteen year old barmaid, telling her that she could put herself in his hands because he was a doctor and she could trust him. Christ! Couldn’t she tell by just looking at him that he was an old…lecher?


So to avert a horrible crisis - like not getting served any beer- we dragged lechy Matt back over to the lunch table where he proceeded to tell us that his brother Michael, (Surely that should be brother, Father Michael, Ed.) a Catholic priest no less, had taught him a lot of funny sexual tricks when they had been growing up together in Ireland, and that that had made him the way he was today (no comment). The girly barmaid had clearly had a narrow escape; at least Lafayette only lusts after cats!

Lunch next. This was of reasonable quality for the Golden Galleon and we were glad we’d got in quick because of a sudden influx of Very,Very, Old Trouts on sticks and zimmer frames and in bath chairs who began to clog up the bar and stop all thirsty NERDS from getting a decent drink after such a long bus ride. Sandyballs started gargling on about ferries arrivaling ( a bit like Philby wanting to go clumping)
- I blame the Paddys, and Matt, now in full flow, gave us a graphic description of what it was like to go cycling with a defective prostate gland. Thanks, Matt; just what you need to hear when you’re eating your ice cream!

Sandyballs was getting very twitchy, he wasn’t used to such amazingly passive rambles, he desperately wanted to get outside and walk somewhere, anywhere.
He kept wandering out on to the terrace but, as if in answer to the rest of the NERDS’ prayers, the rain kept falling and it was obvious to most sane minded NERDS (lol) that as in Dieppe the previous year, the foul weather would irrevocably prevent any nasty rambling activity. At that time Lafayette had wanted to take all the NERDS up to the Shipwreck Church, but sadly his grandiose plans had been foiled and they had all had to sit outside at a pretty pavement café all afternoon on the seafront enjoying the teeming rain. (at least that’s what Lafayette told Sandyballs who had been absent at the time).

So, resigned to not rambling anywhere really, Sandyballs who was a purist and said he needed to ramble, (something to do with his hormones, obviously) resigned himself to catching a bus back to Seaford and going into a pub there as a sort of solace. We therefore found ourselves trudging through a wet, dank churchyard and entering the Plough nearby where we consoled ourselves for the lack of rambling with lots of gins and tonics, and discussed how much the barmaid looked like Juliette Greco. Matt thought Sandyballs looked so bereft, suicidal even, at the NERDS’ idleness, that he told him that a Death in Harness followed by a Deathbed Repentance would enable him to clean up both financially and spiritually. Sandy balls remained morose; more active rambling was what he had wanted that day (Tough!).

And so, not exactly the Longest (nor the Worst) Ramble we’d ever been on; but thanks to Froggy for all his hospitality and it’s a shame all your brilliant plans were spoilt. (Just get more cats in next time!). Sometimes NERDS just have to go with the flow and resign themselves to sitting in a couple of pubs all day. It’s a hard life.

Soon will be the 250th, or Dieppe Raid No. 47 (must check the records).
Let’s hope the weather over in France will be as brilliant as it was the last time most of us went to Dieppe. (Sandyballs, you didn’t hear that).




Lafayette.

Ausgust 2010 Joining Instructions

At last someone has decided to organise the next Ramble. Sandyballs appears to have delegated it to Froggy, again, and a very familiar ramble will take place. Here is the itinery:-

Salut les Nerds!

I've seen the blog and yes the joining instructions are long overdue. Harry is away this weekend so I'm attempting to fill his size 13 boots; not an easy task when you've only got fat little feet like mine. Nevertheless a plan is forming even as I write, so here is the lowdown:- Harry to take the 09:58 train from Lewes, picking up Lord Charles and Captain Haddock (if he can leave his new love alone for a day (plain sailing from now on)? Plus any waifs and strays with cuddling or dumpling tendacies? Train at Newhaven Town vers 10:06 and arriving in Seaford vers 10:14, thence chez moi. Seaford Boys (Matt, Paco and maybe Derek??)? to muster their loins to Sandore Road by 10:30 (in case I have to go to the station and maybe absent for 10 mins).
After a quickish coffee et al, we shall stride out towards the Golden Galleon (haven't actually been there for a while) for a couple, then onto The Plough & Harrow for Lunch. I haven't worked out which route to take as yet, but who cares? You've all got bus passes so we shall walk and we shall ride (sounds like a song by Medicine Head - bet no-one can get it)!
See you all Wednesday!
F-F Frogster

The August Ramble

Well here we are again. Just a week to go and no joining instructions! Sandyballs has yet to publish where everyone is going - if anywhere apart from the pub. Await further notification with baited breath.

New Ramble arrangements - Sandyballs speaks

Barbara A. can't do the pre-ramble. Probably best to postpone the Seaford ramble. I will put something together after I get back from La Belle France.

S. Balls

Further fabrications from flip flop frog

Guys!
Lovely banter pinging back & forth! Naming Barbara kinfly - how about Kinfly? I see BT has picked up on that one. As for the th(r)ong, much as I appreciate BT's gallant defence of my language skills, I do have to admit that my pinkies did hit an extra key. But what about the misuse of the word "passed", when it should have been "past" in the solo write-up -whew, that one got away, only to be changed in a later edition.
Matt and I have got a good idea for a ramble incorporating both The Flying Fish & The Hampden Arms but this would be miles away from Barbara's Gaff, so the August Ramble will most likely invlove a quickie at the Golden Galleon, then the banks of the cuck, and/or Friston Forest. More nearer the time.
Harry! Have a good one in France and I hope Lord Charles has not managed to bankrupt himself in Dublin!
Paco, I do hope you are alright???
Laters,
F-F F

Reply to Froggy and Advance Notice

First of all, I personally enjoyed Froggy's recent ' I wandered lonely as a cloud' moment. I think everyone should be encouraged to do their own thing now and then although, as Religious Adviser Matt would concur - it's more enjoyable when you do it with other people! Hence we cannot grant Froggy's escapade the full status of a Nerds Ramble and it cannot have a number!

Just as an aside, what are " thronged buttocks" ? Should that be "thonged" or, to be pedantic "be-thonged"? But I digress ( interesting though the subject might be).

I hope Froggy is not making a coup attempt to take over the Scribe's long held position, just when Lafayette's back was turned and he happened to be overseas in Dublin? After all, Frog already does the photos, the whip, the fetching and carrying and occasionally the route-mastering. Obviously he wants to be the complete NERDS Renaissance Man!

This brings be to the subject of the August Ramble, which is to take place on Wednesday 25th - as I am actually asking Froggy to route-master this one! The reason being is that Barbara Antjoule ( note to Scribe - please devise a (kind) Nerds name for Barbara) has very kinfly offered to host the pre-Ramble in Seaford. Therefore I am hoping to use the Frog's local knowledge to devise a suitable Seaford ramble. Perhaps those th(r) onged buttocks will be spotted again?

Matt will make very effort to attend, his water-works problems notwithstanding. More details nearer the time

Sandyballs

See Below and the author's above

Ah, what summer brings to journalists and authors, alike, the silly season pounces like a recent born kitten on flies, aping its mother on mice and moles, until through a cloudy haze of imagination the virgin page is raped with words akin to Socrates and Shakespeare, or in reality the flip flop frog of Seaford fame.
I shudder to set a prescient of singular rambles but who am I to hinder the thoughts and ramblings of a troubled mind, and so here is a “First” for your consideration; nude of montage (although that may follow if believe the story one does), yet descriptive to a fault.

The Froggy Solo Ramble

Participants: Froggy

Froggy had a day free on Monday last week. He dreamed about what it would be like to have loads of free days when he was retired, but had to content himself with just the one, for the time being. Oh what could he do? Where could he go? Such choices!

As it was such a lovely day, he decided to strike out towards Alfriston via the famous Mike Clarke route. Man Bag in order, he decided against going through the estate but chose instead to add more provisions from the local corner shop. Hmmm something to drink he thought, the one that had something to do with Quasi & Esmeralda, Hmmm and maybe certain other comforters……..

Off he strode, ignoring all the lecherous cat calls and other such like enticements casually thrown at him by passing motorists on their way to casting off their grannies and other unwanted rubbish at the local dump. On he went passed Seaford’s latest addition to the Metropolis, until he came face to face with his second major decision of the day. Which way? Choose wisely little bear and so he did and grunted his way up the side of the vast field that was now home to several escaped Welsh sheep. No time for that now, he mused – must get safely through the golf course with head intact. He thought he heard the strains of “For he’s a jolly good fellow”, but, sadly only the first word was clearly audible. Once clear of the flying circus he proceeded along the well known track until he came to a stile, which commanded a magnificent view of the route to come. He tarried a while, well it was more like 30 minutes, resting his parts on the nice warm wood and taking it in turn to refresh himself and then his imaginary friend. The path leading up to the stile had all but disappeared under the rampaging undergrowth. He remembered fondly of the time when the Nerds had braved the steep ascent in years gone by, when they were young and care-free and were all alive.

Talking himself into action, he girded his loins and set forth along the next stage, down through the trees, along the side of a field, and up the side of the next field to the very summit; where promises of yet more Quasi shouts gave him all the incentive he needed. At last, at the top, with only a flat and then downward journey to come, he sat and admired the scenery. He lapsed into a dream of meeting 2 young buxom women who would smooth his brow and help him to forget all his woes. By now the bottle was nearly empty and he needed to increase his pace if he were to get any lunch at all. Striding along a now familiar path he came across a five-barred gate, which offered a splendid view, in more ways than one. He could not believe his eyes, for there, not more than 50 feet away were the very same 2 young buxom women! Unable to tear his eyes away he was subjected to the sight of trousers coming off and a thronged pair of buttocks winking at him to come on over. By now the drink had befuddled his mind and he didn’t even think to whip out his trusty pair of binocs for a closer ogle. He looked at them then looked at his watch, then looked at them, then looked at his watch and what do you think? He scuttled off, ashamed of all this peeping, and instead hurtled down the path towards salvation in the shape of a very late ham and mushroom pie lunch at the Smugglers.

He tried nonchalantly to read his paper in the garden but was subjected to one of those conversations that you get between siblings about their demented old mum. Ah! Nearly 3, could catch the 15:17 rambler bus back to Seaford and imbibe some more in town. Perched on the grassy bit, he awaited his transport only to be accosted by the demented old mum, who had slipped passed her knife-stabbing children, and who by then had proceeded to confuse him about which planet he was on. Several minutes later, the rambler bus arrived going the other way. The wise old crone decided to go the long way home – and why not, there are people out there who have bus passes don’t you know!!??** After another half an hour or so, there was still no bus, so the weary traveller chose to return by whence he came. Upon leaving Alfriston, he encountered a pair of strapping Slovac types, adjusting their garments and plucking grass out of their hair. Hmmm, maybe someone else had got into his daydream?

The way back was uneventful apart from the half hour spent fast asleep in some field and a further half hour on his most favourite stile in the whole world. Again he spurned the scenic route back through the estate, for he considered “doing another first” and was soon sitting on a bar stool quaffing a pint of Stella in the Seven Sisters, with utter gay abandon and chortling to himself that he’d not been there to cook and slave for his ungrateful git pillock of a son. There were other “firsts” during the week but that’s another story….

What a fabulous way to spend a day. He’s already planning his second solo ramble, hmmm, maybe taking in the Engineer next time…..and with photies?

À bientôt