N.E.R.D.S. Ramble No. 247.
8th - 10th June 2010.
The Isle of Wight Ramble.
Those Present - Froggy, Paco, B.T., Sandyballs, Lafayette.
Day One - Getting There.
That day the NERDS were not well. Below is a list of their then ailments:
Lafayette - sore throat and writers’ cramp (from last month)
Sandy balls - poorly, gouty toe with pins inside it.
B. T. - a feeling of impending doom.
Paco - a feeling of not quite being on this planet.
Froggy - Obsessive Compulsive Syndrome.
Paco had volunteered to drive because he’d got a car that would hold five fat bastards
and which we hoped would get us down to The New Forest in one piece. Lafayette had been promised lots of walks round the N.F. with opportunities to pet ponies, moon about in leafy glades and get drunk on local ice cream - but he was cruelly deceived and it was not to be. Nor did the weather look too hopeful - I mean, when was the last time you saw Carol Kirkwood dressed in a diving suit to tell you about a few possible mild showers? (Nice tits, though).
Before picking up Sandyballs Lafayette decided he needed a few bottles of water to mix with his medecine and so a stop was made at the kiosk opposite Lewes station.
Unfortunately this was not one of those places where you can dodge into and say “six bottles of water and a Daily Worker, please” and get away in less than thirty seconds. Oh, no. There were just three people ahead of Lafayette in the queue but they’d all been obviously sent out to get both lunch and dinner for the staff of most of the factories in Lewes. And to make things worse the shop people were laboriously buttering each piece of bread and then it was “Do you want grilled porpoise in it as well as that piece of mermaid’s belly button you originally specified? And was that with chips? Good job that Lafayette was the patient type because after thirty five minutes or so Paco came out to see if he’d absconded with the whip.
Anyway, all watered up, we finally went to pick up Sandyballs who was shamefacedly standing there in true sartorial shambles. Pleading poorly foot syndrome he had had the temerity that day to get dressed in sandals with socks!!! Lafayette was appalled; What a faux pas! What would the NERDS say? What would lady Gaga say? What would Willy Walsh say? (Two of Lafayette’s current role models). Lafayette himself would never stoop as low as this however bad his throat felt. Fortunately the NERDS were squabbling over the contents of a hipflask or some such and failed to notice this
gross social gaffe. And so on to Hampshire.
On arrival at The Kings Arms in Lymington The NERDS immediately smirked at the barmaid (Sam) and ordered four pints of Ringwood (with one pint of lager for one of us who claimed he was suffering from a mimsy tummy [not mumsy bum]). This, the local beer was excellent and the expected rain had not yet reached this far south. Unfortunately, because our rooms weren’t quite ready we were denied the possibility of an afternoon’s crash and so, reluctantly, we were dragooned into a post prandial stroll by Sandyballs who seemed to be the only one with a game plan.
The stroll took us along the pretty docky seafront where twats with blazers and club ties were waffling on about tacking , mizzling, casting off, walking the plank and what a good job the Conservatives had got back in again wasn’t it? Froggy who was having problems now with his mimsy bladder found a Dr Who Loo. What’s one of these? You may well ask. Well, both Lafayette and Sandyballs noticed that when Froggy went in he looked like Froggy, but when he came out he was old, bent and had a funny beard. So he had obviously time-travelled (forwards). Eventually Lafayette who had only had three pints of Ringwood for lunch worked out that it wasn’t actually Froggy who had come out, but someone else. Another mystery of the universe solved!
Deciding that if we couldn’t beat the Yacht Twats we might as well join them, we had an ice cream and repaired to the Yacht Club for a few gin and tonics. Every one was sitting around in wealthy, self satisfied splendour (the rest of the customers, not the NERDS) and so we bankrupted the whip on yachty drinks and sought directions from the yachty barmaid (nice tits, again). Sandyballs thought he had vaguely followed what she had been saying about where to go but whether this had anything to do with part two of our walk was anyone’s guess.
Out we went, and walked round the point (that’s nautical language for up the road) and thereafter ensued a mild dispute amongst the NERDS about the next day’s route. Lafayette said he had been faithfully promised that we should go all round the New Forest because he had been running short of coconuts at home and wanted to gather some from the foresty trees. Nobody had the heart to disillusion him about the state of the local flora and fauna (apparently it wasn’t coconut season until late September when the locals pulled the pigs off truffling duties and sent them up the trees) so by force majeur Lafayette was persuaded to visit the Isle of Wight because the coconuts were better there (allegedly, perhaps).
We wandered au bord de la mer for a bit until Paco’s middle age began to tell on him.
So we sat down and watched all the young people sprinting around with dogs, getting fit and whatnot, and then we short cutted back into town feeling that we couldn’t impose more of this gruelling walking on poor Paco (besides, we were getting thirsty)
Back in town and a bit disorientated we asked for further directions from a lady who was dead-heading triffids in her front garden. She was quite willing (to tell us the way) and said her garden was known as lost corner because everyone er…got lost there. Mindful of the Dr Who Lavatory, we scurried off not wishing to fall through a tear in the space/time continuum and subsequently find ourselves in a place with no pubs.
Fortunately we got back to The Kings Arms OK and were shown to our rooms.
Ah, yes the rooms…. Sandyballs, B.T. and Lafayette were in The Family Room.
This was sort of on the low side of almost adequate because at least we had a kettle
(no cups, mind), a telly, en-suite shower, no coat hangers (for B.T.’s tights) a choice of black or a white rats to keep us company and a smell of fresh paint. Sandyballs ‘bagged’ the biggest double bed before anyone else could opt for it and Lafayette ‘bagged’ the cot nearest the ‘en suite’ so he wouldn’t have so far to go for his midnight pee. That left the bed nearest the wardrobe for BT who was later coerced into making tea, coffee and other assorted drinks for everyone! So not too bad really. Froggy and Paco’ s room was a bit more basic - no ensuite, no mirror, no towels to go with the no en suite and no choice of rats. Pretty grim, you might say. So the first thing B.T. did was to make a lightning sortie chez Pacfrog and nick all the coat hangers. “ Now at least we’ll have something to eat, “ he said “ You forgot the rats,” said Lafayette.
Having settled in, Pacfrog went outside to smoke something nasty and then we all went off for aperitifs at another nautical pub called the Ship Inn and Co. ‘along the point’ We sat outside where the smokers weren’t allowed to smoke (tee, hee) and where Froggy entertained us with funny jokes he had heard last week at his primary school (Lafayette particularly liked the one about the hen, the frog and the library books).
Back at the Kings Arms we almost named that day’s experiences The Recession Ramble because of the shitty state of Pacfrog’s room but instead listened to B.T.’s conspiracy theories about Froggy’s French i/d card (wot?) how the French are determined to rip off all foreigners and take away their pensions, and how the Albigensian Movement for Democracy had been infiltrated by the French Taleban
as far back as the eleventh century. ( So, are you going to support your adopted country in the World Cup, or not then, B.T.?)
The evening was spent in some Bengali restaurant where the birianis were too dry and the waiter was too above his station. I mean, fancy telling Lafayette that you weren’t supposed to eat curry with your fingers. He’s been to places where the natives eat curries with their enemies’ fingers - which they’d cut off in battle.
We trailed back along the High street and came across a real whiz looking French restaurant which we’d so far managed to overlook. Tomorrow, perhaps, although B.T. warned us that the French used to feed snails to the Cathars in the thirteenth century to make them blow up so that the King of France could excommunicate them all and get his hands on their massive assets (Was Carol Kirkwood a Cathar, then?). Anyway, back to The Kings Arms where we renewed our fragile relationship with barmaid
Sam and where Paco suddenly lost his cool about the I.S.U., the Independent Stalinist Union to which he had once belonged but to his chagrin had been taken over by the
N.C.P.S., the Nancy Corporate Pipesmokers’ Syndicate which had blocked his promotion and forced him to retire prematurely. What bastards!
Lafayette was unable to stand any more of this self pitying twaddle so went to bed -
only to be woken by a thunderous knocking further down the corridor when Sandyballs in his cups (for a change) had begun hammering on the next room’s door and demanding that Lafayette let him in (ha, ha). Fortunately B.T. managed to smooth over the angry person who had been disturbed in mid-coitus , and after a few doses of rum and cherry cake the Family Room NERDS all crashed out.
Day Two - The Isle of Wight Ramble.
Sandyballs awoke early craving tea. Since FamilyNERDS had a kettle this would be no problem. There were even teabags and a bit of milk and stuff. Oh dear! the ensuing brew tasted as if the rats had pissed in it. Everyone’s tasted the same - sort of like rat-piss. Sandyballs had given up by now and returned grumbling to his pit. Up rose B.T., bright eyed and bushy tailed (sort of) and volunteered to make coffee. This turned out to be not quite as vile, although we had used all the milk by now. Lafayette came up with an original solution. Let’s put Spanish brandy in it and pretend it’s milk. Seemed to work all right. Maybe if Lafayette puts empty brandy bottles out on his doorstep the milkman will change them for full ones - who knows?
Froggy strolled in and drank the rest of the milk. Said Paco was poncing around in a cool dressing gown wearing a hat with one of those little tassels on the top - No shit!
NERDS went down for a fried breakfast and met Marisol - all 4 foot 11inches of her.
She was Spanish, blonde, cooked a mean breakfast and was in charge of the pub.
Better be nice to her then. She was OK, even spoke English, had all the attributes to be a perfect wife. No, not for you B.T., you’ve had three already! Better go out before any more bad ideas surface.
So a long walk to the ferry terminal where most of us get cheapo senior tickets with one glaring exception. What’s that, Froggy? You’re still at primary school? No senior ticket for you then. Grump Grump. Next is standing in the footies queue to get on board. Grump, grump, still. NERDS get to the front of the queue and get RLE. Too many people on this ferry; you’re not posh enough; wait for the next one in ten minutes. OK, not a problem; it’s a nice day most of us thought. But from the rear came an ever increasing ‘Grump, grump everso grump. They never did this at my
primary school blah, blah, blah.etc, etc.’ In the end we got on board but found there was no bar. Wot sort of ferry is this then? Oh well, it’s only a half hour crossing.
On the lovely Isle of Wight we all piled off, rambled twenty five yards and dived into The Kings Head. “Do you sell coconuts?” asked Lafayette. “No, but we have got some beer.” said the friendly barman “I’m afraid all our coconut pigs have been loaned out to the mainland where they’re up trees on the far side of that New Forest Thingy.”
“ Bugger!” thought Lafayette. “I’ll have to drink more beer. I don’t suppose you sell pedometers do you, only we walk so far on these rambles that it’s nice to keep a track.”“ No, sorry, “ said the kind man. “We’re fresh out of pedometers at the moment; it’s those coconut pigs you know; they took them all over to the mainland with them.”
The NERDS made the best of a bad job since there were no coconuts and drank a lot of the local Yates beer. “It’s our pigs that make this beer, you know,” said the kind barman. “They mash it with their trotters; that’s what gives it its special flavour.”
“That is, “he added “when they’re not out looking for coconuts.” Lafayette started to vaguely wonder what had been in that special milk he’d put in his coffee that morning.
Sandyballs insisted we ramble further so we went about a mile round the harbour and visited a local primary school. Here Froggy interviewed the kids in the playground and got some more jokes for his stand up comic routine material. However, the lure of the Piggy Beer drew us back to the Kings Head and we had an excellent cheap fish and chip meal there for the price of half a coconut each. Lafayette began to compose a song along the lines of “This is the shortest ramble we’ve ever been on!” but while he thought he’d got the lyrics right he wasn’t sure about the tune and decided to let Froggy have a crack at this when he got home and out of hearing
On the ferry Froggy seemed a bit perturbed about some feud he’d had with somebody at work. Nobody we knew, thank God, but Paco lent a sympathetic ear. Back on dry land we thought we’d go for a drink (how novel!) and wandered off to The Waggon and Horses which was ostensibly closed. Grump, grump, grump, we went across the car park until all of a sudden another kind barman appeared and offered us the use of his pub garden as long as we behaved soberish and didn’t go on about feuds at work.
This worked fine; the weather was pleasantly warm and everyone was mellow. Paco and Lafayette went back into the pub for another round and nearly got loved to death by Milo, the pub boxer who nearly broke Lafayette’s leg with his enthusiastically wagging tail. Finally we thought we ought to get back to The Kings Head in Lymington otherwise Marisol might be missing us.
But the well laid plans of NERDS oft go astray. Half way back Paco realised he wasn’t wearing his dressing gown any more; and what was worse this was where he kept his car keys! Panic, panic, panic! Nor was it one of those special dressing gowns equipped with a satnav that found its own way back to its owner when you whistled. What to do? First get back to the pub and have a drink to get rid of the stress. This we did; rang up The Isle of Pigs but no keys; rang up the ferry but ring back onTuesday; rang up the Doggy Pub and bingo! The dressing gown was lining Milo’s doggy basket and he didn’t want to give it up. He’d also swallowed the car keys. Looks like Paco had some hard decisions to make, ie. Get back to the pub, get the dog drunk, extricate the keys somehow and sneak off with his dressing gown.
A couple of hours later our lift back home had been assured. The dog had been really generous and even told Paco under which bush he had sicked up the car keys.
Good Boy, Milo! That’s worth another drink to celebrate. Let’s go to Brasserie Gerard for dinner.
This was a good place to go. They did proper French food - like steak and chips and proper French wine - like red,white and rosay (please excuse spelling; only Mrs Lafayette can operate the accents on this gadget [I can = rosé]; ed). The one waiter was French so B.T. acted as interpreter for the main course, and the other was Iranian so Paco was deputed to try him in Turkish after Lafayette’s Urdu had failed. Sadly they both spoke English as did the girly waitress with the short hair who looked French but came from Winchester. Anyway, after a few glasses of wine and a couple of forkfulls of Froggy’s chips who cared? The meal -coquilles Saint Jacques, steak, chips, Froggy’s chips, cheese, vin rouge, vin rosé, and ice cream for Lafayette was very pleasant. Pity about the size of the bill; and all for us poor NERDS who only eat like sparrows at the best of times.
Back at The Kings Arms and in the Family/NERDS room one of us kept going on about somebody nasty at work (Newhaven) who was (allegedly) being machiaevellian, cruel, unsympathetic, horrible, wicked, awful, even crueller and “not being nice to me”. By now we had all got fed up with hearing this terrible person’s name being touted about and began singing a lovely song to drown out the waves of paranoia coming from the end of one of the beds.
The song which was brought out at regular intervals went something like this:
Tin of Beans, Tin of Beans , riding through the glen;
Tin of Beans, Tin of Beans, with his band of men;
Feared by the Frog, loved by the Dog; (No not her, how dare you!)
Tin of Beans, Tin of Beans, Tin of Beans.
Good eh? Lafayette is now thinking of compiling a short collection of NERDS’ ditties in a slim volume (very slim). The above will take its rightful place as No.1
Together with such classics as ‘This is the worst ramble we’ve ever been on’
and ‘ I’m a Polish Gypsy (P.A., P.A., P.A.) - remember that one?
Day Three - Getting Back.
This was the bit Philby hated most in Shropshire - the final Wrap Party when you knew that Reality beckoned her boring finger at you and the drinking had to stop.
But not quite yet.
We descended to pay our dues and to gob up the last big fry-up. Little Marisol continued her usual high standard of catering. She had imported her brother, Josay (accents again, I’m afraid ) who seemed to have had more wives than even B.T. and actually looked quite Spanish in a dago-ish sort of way ( not like Paco who must have been a little blond angel when he was born).
Marisol told us her life story, Josay told us his life story , Froggy told everyone about his book, Lafayette told everybody about his terrible experience on The Chartres, Sandyballs told everybody about his toe and B.T. told everybody about the iniquities of the French government. At the end of all this we felt we all knew each other quite well. And so we left Lymington. Lafayette felt the rooms in the pub reminded him of the crappy rooms in the Louis Armstrong in Dover when he was on relief in the 70‘s; and he felt rather nostalgic; Sandyballs reserved judgement.
And so back on the road which surprisingly wound onwards to The Black Rabbit at Arundel. We always end up here, we always sit in the same spot and it usually rains. Not today though; the rain held off and we had a last pint (or so) of Badger Beer and sang a few choruses of ‘ Tin of Beans’ when the atmosphere got a bit fraught. We decided that there was in fact a difference between Old Gits and Old Trouts - The former are NERDS and pub customers, and the latter are parasites who faff about and get in the way of the former. Twas ever thus.
We agreed that in general it had been a successful three days. There had been two interesting drunken rants, lots of exciting food, drink and people, and nobody had got seriously injured.
Thanks of course go to Paco for driving
To Froggy for still being our ‘Yoof Rep’ and taking photos
To Sandyballs for organising the “walks”
To B.T. for taking the big Photos .
And to Lafayette for writing this stuff and making up songs.
Now time to detox.
Ha, Ha, good luck.
Lafayette.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
The May 2010 Ramble
Well here it is folks; The ramble accordging to Lafayette. There do appear to be a few anomolies but the photographs do provide an interesting account although there is not one phorograph of Froggy. Is this because he was not there? Or is it that he could not prevail upon anyone to 'take one with me in it'. Anyway; here commencth the lesson:-
N.E.R.D.S. Ramble 246 - 12th May 2010
Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, El Paco, Sandy balls (a bit).
The Dithering About Ramble.
Today the NERDS were somewhat depleted. Matt put up the usual pathetic excuse that he couldn’t be bothered coming; Captain Haddock was nowhere to be seen; Bronco was off lassooing horses in the Camargue and Sandyballs had a gout related toe infection meaning he couldn’t walk but could issue instructions from his Bunker in Berlin. Unfortunately for Froggy the instructions were written down in minuscule Martian and sent to his mobile phone. This, together with the fact that Froggy had lost his reading glasses meant that no way could he make sense of anything, so nobody had a fucking clue where we were supposed to actually ramble that day.
So off we set from Lewes station. At least the weather was OK - sunnyish and reasonably warm. Froggy led us through Southover towards Kingston saying all the while that we had done this ramble before so nothing could possibly go wrong could it? Paco trundled along moaning that his eldest daughter was pregnant again and had forgotten his birthday the day before, and Lafayette covered his eyes in despair convinced disasters were going to happen - ho ho, just watch this space.
We got to a field - yes I know this happens sometimes in NERDS’ rambles - but was it the right field? Where did we go from here? Which direction was the correct one? Was the ramble actually today, anyway? Paco assured us it was ( and he should know)
There was a lot of DITHERING and FAFFING ABOUT cos it was obvious that Froggy didn’t have a clue what to do next even though Kingston (our pit stop destination) was practically visible as the crow flew. Lafayette was snorting with impatience so Froggy took some nice photos by a gate (which gate? Was it the right gate?) to shut him up and calm him down.
Eventually we hit a road (was it the right road even?) and prepared to go across country through a farm towards Kingston except Froggy’s map wasn’t very clear and he hadn’t got his reading glasses and the sun was in his eyes and he wanted a wee and where were we anyway? Eventually Lafayette, in an uncharacteristic burst of impatience, took the ramble by the horns and led his Chosen People out of The Wilderness unto Kingston via the A 249.
Finally we had got to The Juggs, the pit-stop pub agreed on by Sandyballs. Now we could relax a bit and let some of the tension and stress that attends each ramble just ebb away.(lol again). Finally after about three pints of Bishops Finger (rude Bishop!)
Lafayette stopped snorting with impatience at other people’s frailties and realised that other NERDS weren’t perhaps as perfect as he, and he should make allowances for this humbling fact. At least Froggy had recommended the beer here so he was forgiven a bit (only a bit ) for his FAFFING and ARSING ABOUT during the route mastering.
When Lafayette had calmed down and stopped cursing, swearing and banging his head against the flint wall, Froggy lead everyone through Kingston out into the countryside towards the Swan at Southover via the large bridge over the A27 where some pillock had once jumped off with a rope around his neck to try to commit suicide and ended up decapitating himself (ie. did actually kill himself but not quite in the way he had envisioned).
Anyway, we entered The Swan to see Sandyballs in his bathchair moaning that his foot hurt and that’s why he couldn’t have got the pints in for the rest of us (just his own) and where had we been, we were late. So Paco blamed Lafayette for drinking too much and Lafayette blamed Froggy for inept route mastering and Froggy blamed Sandyballs for sending him illegible instructions and normal NERDS relations were resumed.
After a good dinner of some pie or other that Sandyballs had recommended (it was very good) Lafayette decided not to endorse Baby Flintoff’s passport application since he was too pissed to write properly and he didn’t want to end up with Baby Flintoff being issued with a forged Nigerian passport by mistake. And so Sandyballs wheeled himself off to get his stitches plucked out (It’ll only take five minutes or so and I’ll be out this afternoon riding my bike - you just watch, ha ha ). We never saw him again.
So, the rest of the NERDS decamped along the road to the King’s Head simply to escape the incipient showers and not to drink any more beer - that would be immoral.
While Lafayette was prising more money out of the hole in the wall Paco had been making enquiries of the barman and found there was no cognac to be had for the café cognacs. So we had to drink café /malt whisky (not quite the same). Meanwhile in the back room Froggy had come upon a vision of 22 stone loveliness holding a little dog who said her name was Ivy and she was half Peruvian.
Paco entered the room, gave a start and they started talking to each other in Spanish.
Lafayette’s Spanish is only Home Office exam level (ie. rubbish) but he managed to piece together the following conversation:
Paco I haven’t seen you for ages, how is your mum?
Ivy You should care , you bastardo, after you abandoned us I heard she was selling herself on the streets of Caracas.
Paco (shame facedly) I couldn’t stay, I met this nice Brazilian woman and she wanted to have my babies.
Ivy And what about me? I was only little, I had to go off to Mexico and buy little dogs to trade for food otherwise I too might have ended up pregnant like all your other relatives. By the way, what happened to that friend of yours - the nice one with the beard who spoke crap Spanish and who was always trying to get my knickers off?
Paco Sadly, he went to a better place.
What happened next is only to guess because the rest of the NERDS (all two of them) ran out of the pub and scampered home before any more sordid details of Paco’s past were revealed.
So, an exciting ramble with lots of incident and excitement. No plaudits to anyone because it nearly ended up as a shambles, although thanks to Froggy for spotting the Bishop’s Finger. Lets hope Sandyballs manages to get on his bike again before Christmas.
Next month The New Forest - Whoopee!
Lafayette.
N.E.R.D.S. Ramble 246 - 12th May 2010
Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, El Paco, Sandy balls (a bit).
The Dithering About Ramble.
Today the NERDS were somewhat depleted. Matt put up the usual pathetic excuse that he couldn’t be bothered coming; Captain Haddock was nowhere to be seen; Bronco was off lassooing horses in the Camargue and Sandyballs had a gout related toe infection meaning he couldn’t walk but could issue instructions from his Bunker in Berlin. Unfortunately for Froggy the instructions were written down in minuscule Martian and sent to his mobile phone. This, together with the fact that Froggy had lost his reading glasses meant that no way could he make sense of anything, so nobody had a fucking clue where we were supposed to actually ramble that day.
So off we set from Lewes station. At least the weather was OK - sunnyish and reasonably warm. Froggy led us through Southover towards Kingston saying all the while that we had done this ramble before so nothing could possibly go wrong could it? Paco trundled along moaning that his eldest daughter was pregnant again and had forgotten his birthday the day before, and Lafayette covered his eyes in despair convinced disasters were going to happen - ho ho, just watch this space.
We got to a field - yes I know this happens sometimes in NERDS’ rambles - but was it the right field? Where did we go from here? Which direction was the correct one? Was the ramble actually today, anyway? Paco assured us it was ( and he should know)
There was a lot of DITHERING and FAFFING ABOUT cos it was obvious that Froggy didn’t have a clue what to do next even though Kingston (our pit stop destination) was practically visible as the crow flew. Lafayette was snorting with impatience so Froggy took some nice photos by a gate (which gate? Was it the right gate?) to shut him up and calm him down.
Eventually we hit a road (was it the right road even?) and prepared to go across country through a farm towards Kingston except Froggy’s map wasn’t very clear and he hadn’t got his reading glasses and the sun was in his eyes and he wanted a wee and where were we anyway? Eventually Lafayette, in an uncharacteristic burst of impatience, took the ramble by the horns and led his Chosen People out of The Wilderness unto Kingston via the A 249.
Finally we had got to The Juggs, the pit-stop pub agreed on by Sandyballs. Now we could relax a bit and let some of the tension and stress that attends each ramble just ebb away.(lol again). Finally after about three pints of Bishops Finger (rude Bishop!)
Lafayette stopped snorting with impatience at other people’s frailties and realised that other NERDS weren’t perhaps as perfect as he, and he should make allowances for this humbling fact. At least Froggy had recommended the beer here so he was forgiven a bit (only a bit ) for his FAFFING and ARSING ABOUT during the route mastering.
When Lafayette had calmed down and stopped cursing, swearing and banging his head against the flint wall, Froggy lead everyone through Kingston out into the countryside towards the Swan at Southover via the large bridge over the A27 where some pillock had once jumped off with a rope around his neck to try to commit suicide and ended up decapitating himself (ie. did actually kill himself but not quite in the way he had envisioned).
Anyway, we entered The Swan to see Sandyballs in his bathchair moaning that his foot hurt and that’s why he couldn’t have got the pints in for the rest of us (just his own) and where had we been, we were late. So Paco blamed Lafayette for drinking too much and Lafayette blamed Froggy for inept route mastering and Froggy blamed Sandyballs for sending him illegible instructions and normal NERDS relations were resumed.
After a good dinner of some pie or other that Sandyballs had recommended (it was very good) Lafayette decided not to endorse Baby Flintoff’s passport application since he was too pissed to write properly and he didn’t want to end up with Baby Flintoff being issued with a forged Nigerian passport by mistake. And so Sandyballs wheeled himself off to get his stitches plucked out (It’ll only take five minutes or so and I’ll be out this afternoon riding my bike - you just watch, ha ha ). We never saw him again.
So, the rest of the NERDS decamped along the road to the King’s Head simply to escape the incipient showers and not to drink any more beer - that would be immoral.
While Lafayette was prising more money out of the hole in the wall Paco had been making enquiries of the barman and found there was no cognac to be had for the café cognacs. So we had to drink café /malt whisky (not quite the same). Meanwhile in the back room Froggy had come upon a vision of 22 stone loveliness holding a little dog who said her name was Ivy and she was half Peruvian.
Paco entered the room, gave a start and they started talking to each other in Spanish.
Lafayette’s Spanish is only Home Office exam level (ie. rubbish) but he managed to piece together the following conversation:
Paco I haven’t seen you for ages, how is your mum?
Ivy You should care , you bastardo, after you abandoned us I heard she was selling herself on the streets of Caracas.
Paco (shame facedly) I couldn’t stay, I met this nice Brazilian woman and she wanted to have my babies.
Ivy And what about me? I was only little, I had to go off to Mexico and buy little dogs to trade for food otherwise I too might have ended up pregnant like all your other relatives. By the way, what happened to that friend of yours - the nice one with the beard who spoke crap Spanish and who was always trying to get my knickers off?
Paco Sadly, he went to a better place.
What happened next is only to guess because the rest of the NERDS (all two of them) ran out of the pub and scampered home before any more sordid details of Paco’s past were revealed.
So, an exciting ramble with lots of incident and excitement. No plaudits to anyone because it nearly ended up as a shambles, although thanks to Froggy for spotting the Bishop’s Finger. Lets hope Sandyballs manages to get on his bike again before Christmas.
Next month The New Forest - Whoopee!
Lafayette.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The May Ramble 2010
Here are Sandyballs' joining instructions.
Dear Nerds,
This month's ramble will take place on Wednesday 12 th. For reasons orthopaedic I will not be able to take part but this will not stop me setting the route and meeting you for lunch. In my place I delegate the actual routemastering to Froggy, so you shouldn't put a foot wrong, should you? I will be emailing Frog with suggested directions in a separate email.
Basically the route starts and finishes in Lewes and involves a pint stop at the Juggs Arms in Kingston and a lunch at the Swan in Southover - which is where I will meet you. Suggest that Seaford/ Newhaven types take the 9.58/ 10.05. Will hopefully see you all there at about 1.00 PM.
Hope you all enjoy good weather but will have a good laugh if you don't!
Sandyballs
However, it appears that Muscles Matt will not be attending as he is having his contral heating "fixed". ( A euphemism if ever there was one).
I hope you have a quorum and that the ramble is a good one.
Regards,
BT
Dear Nerds,
This month's ramble will take place on Wednesday 12 th. For reasons orthopaedic I will not be able to take part but this will not stop me setting the route and meeting you for lunch. In my place I delegate the actual routemastering to Froggy, so you shouldn't put a foot wrong, should you? I will be emailing Frog with suggested directions in a separate email.
Basically the route starts and finishes in Lewes and involves a pint stop at the Juggs Arms in Kingston and a lunch at the Swan in Southover - which is where I will meet you. Suggest that Seaford/ Newhaven types take the 9.58/ 10.05. Will hopefully see you all there at about 1.00 PM.
Hope you all enjoy good weather but will have a good laugh if you don't!
Sandyballs
However, it appears that Muscles Matt will not be attending as he is having his contral heating "fixed". ( A euphemism if ever there was one).
I hope you have a quorum and that the ramble is a good one.
Regards,
BT
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
May Ramble
The May ramble to be announced soon, or whenever Sandyballs gets around to it as he will not be there but having his appendage "fixed". Lafayette or Froggy will no doubt be sending out the appropriate notification.
Monday, April 26, 2010
N.E.R.D.S’ RAMBLE No. 245. 21/4/10.
Those Present - B.T. Sandyballs, Froggy, El Paco, Lafayette.
The Superbly Organised Ramble.
Today nothing could go wrong. Froggy was Organiser and Routemaster so absolutely nothing whatsoever would be allowed to get in the way of an absolutely fantastic ramble. The NERDS all knew this since the joining instructions had been published about a fortnight in advance telling us exactly where we would be going, how long it would take to get there, what to wear, what time to get the bus, how much money to bring, make sure you go to the lavatory first, have you got a clean hanky? and don’t forget to kiss your mum goodbye!
The only two flies in the ointment were (a) Would Sandyballs be able to get off nights early and avoid the dreaded embarks exercise and (b) would B.T. turn up at all due to hostile volcanic activity which might make his plane nose-dive into the Channel.
In the event, Froggy had a word with President Obama who contacted the Night CIO (Maybe the one with the nice, mumsy buttocks) and got Sandyballs off OK, and then he also contacted the president of Iceland who stopped the volcano for a brief window of 24 hours to enable BT to get to chez Lafayette where he was staying. Who says that organisation is not best done down to the finest details? Froggy should be the NATO general in charge of the Afghan war - then we’d see some results!
Actually BT had been staying at Lafayette’s for a few days already so the pair of them had been a bit overexposed to calvados and were feeling a little tired and jaded.
Never mind, the grand adventure was on. Lafayette rescued Sandyballs from the port where ‘Mumsy Bum CIO’ wanted to keep him as a sexual pet, and then the three of them set out to get the bus to chez Froggy for aperitifs.
Except the best laid plans of frogs and men…………
Lafayette dragged his fellow NERDS on to what he thought was the right bus, but it turned out to be the ‘go all round the houses bus’ which gave everyone a brilliant tour of most of the back streets of Seaford, and ended up by the cemetery. So, quelling a desire to go and pay homage to A Famous Belgian once again, the trio hiked along the road , at least half a mile to Froggy’s . It was all his fault, of course, he hadn’t told us not to get the 12A bus instead of the No 12 - what an oversight!
Poor Froggy; not only was he exhausted from the intellectual challenges of making sure everything was going to run to plan, but he had been up half the night cleaning and hoovering so that we should have nothing to complain about when we got there.
Anyway, the food was good ( Banofee pie cookies ) and the drink gave us a choice of two whiskies (Scotch and Irish) and El Paco had turned up despite Lafayette having forgotten to ring him the night before on account of his being rat-arsed at the time.
So everyone indulged themselves greatly and then we were led out on to phase one of today’s ramble.
Everyone stood at the bus stop waving their bus passes in the faces of Froggy and BT
(who hadn’t got them) and then managed to get on the right bus to somewhere near Beachy Head to start off. The road was long and stoney, but straight enough so that there was at this stage no chance of getting lost. However we soon came to a dividing of the ways. Which road to take? Froggy wasn’t sure so out came the Mappa Mundi for reference. El Paco seemed to know the right direction but he was ignored. Froggy twisted the map around, tried to read it upside down, tried murmuring incantations, all to no avail. Paco insisted he knew where to go but Froggy wasn’t having any. Finally two hippy ramblers turned up and pointed us in Paco’s direction. So much for tight organisation! Paco now has a Cassandra complex.
It was a glorious, sunny day and the NERDS were singing along happily. All the little lambs we saw had numbers on them - one for each NERD, there were lots of Old Trout ramblers about, but thankfully they were miles from the pub we intended to invade. Froggy had a bad feeling about this pub, he said the people who ran it were snooty and offhand (so why take us there?) but as it happened the barmaid at The Eight Bells at Jevington was really nice and took to Harry ‘cos her boyfriend had the same name or something (blech! blech!).
We sat in the garden in the sun and Froggy was made to serve us with lots of sauces and condiments and stuff while we gave him marks out of ten for fetching and carrying . He got so flustered at one point that he told us he’d got a barrow in his family (Is this a sort of welsh family burial plot?). But when the food came (we all had meaty pie) the pies all had tons of meat in them and there were loads of chips so the food was definitely ’NERDS approved.‘ Froggy said he was never given any vegetables as a kid and that’s why he himself nearly grew up as a meaty pie -
different taste, though.
We staggered on for the second half of the ramble (exactly three miles, not a metre more, not a metre less) and got taken along a nasty, horrible, busy road with lots of wizzy cars going passed us. Eventually we hit woody fieldy areas again , trouble was they were mostly in the direction of up and Lafayette’s bowels began to play up too. Whether it was the excess of calvados taken the night before or his wife’s chile con carne he had had at breakfast (magic stuff!) he could contain himself no longer and had to wander off for an emergency crap. Good job there was a nice copse further up the hill where he could squat and wallow! Pity there weren’t any goats or Pakistanis to make sure he had a nice clean bum afterwards - like in the old days, but Hey! You can’t expect everything laid on for you.
When he returned to the fold Lafayette found the rest of the NERDS all flaked out lying in the middle of a very pleasant meadow, evidently the heavy lunch and the unaccustomed rigorous and disciplined activity had taken its toll. Lafayette let them slumber awhile and then woke them gently with a thunderous fart.
We carried on ever upwards it seemed but eventually descended another pleasant meadow into East Dean where The Tiger (pub) was waiting for us. Here they sold ‘Legless Rambler’ beer (and I’m not kidding!) which came from the Beachy Head Brewery. ‘I wonder where the Beachy Head Brewery is’ quoth Paco…‘D’oh!’ We all replied. We then spent a very pleasant hour in the late afternoon sun quaffing Legless Ramblers and trying to decide where we should go for the NERDS’ 250th. We decided to disqualify Philby from this since he’d missed a few rambles already this year and we didn’t fancy going to Belgium so soon again, anyway.
And so we all walked back to the bus stop and left Froggy standing when the wrong bus came again. Actually it was the right bus for all of us - it just didn’t happen to take Froggy back exactly to his front door (as planned).
And so another superlative ramble combining fantastic weather, good food and absolutely impeccable planning from Froggy. We all hope that BT gets home OK because Lafayette has nearly run out of red wine and calvados.
Looking forward to the 250th , you NERDS. (wherever the fuck it is!)
Lafayette.
Those Present - B.T. Sandyballs, Froggy, El Paco, Lafayette.
The Superbly Organised Ramble.
Today nothing could go wrong. Froggy was Organiser and Routemaster so absolutely nothing whatsoever would be allowed to get in the way of an absolutely fantastic ramble. The NERDS all knew this since the joining instructions had been published about a fortnight in advance telling us exactly where we would be going, how long it would take to get there, what to wear, what time to get the bus, how much money to bring, make sure you go to the lavatory first, have you got a clean hanky? and don’t forget to kiss your mum goodbye!
The only two flies in the ointment were (a) Would Sandyballs be able to get off nights early and avoid the dreaded embarks exercise and (b) would B.T. turn up at all due to hostile volcanic activity which might make his plane nose-dive into the Channel.
In the event, Froggy had a word with President Obama who contacted the Night CIO (Maybe the one with the nice, mumsy buttocks) and got Sandyballs off OK, and then he also contacted the president of Iceland who stopped the volcano for a brief window of 24 hours to enable BT to get to chez Lafayette where he was staying. Who says that organisation is not best done down to the finest details? Froggy should be the NATO general in charge of the Afghan war - then we’d see some results!
Actually BT had been staying at Lafayette’s for a few days already so the pair of them had been a bit overexposed to calvados and were feeling a little tired and jaded.
Never mind, the grand adventure was on. Lafayette rescued Sandyballs from the port where ‘Mumsy Bum CIO’ wanted to keep him as a sexual pet, and then the three of them set out to get the bus to chez Froggy for aperitifs.
Except the best laid plans of frogs and men…………
Lafayette dragged his fellow NERDS on to what he thought was the right bus, but it turned out to be the ‘go all round the houses bus’ which gave everyone a brilliant tour of most of the back streets of Seaford, and ended up by the cemetery. So, quelling a desire to go and pay homage to A Famous Belgian once again, the trio hiked along the road , at least half a mile to Froggy’s . It was all his fault, of course, he hadn’t told us not to get the 12A bus instead of the No 12 - what an oversight!
Poor Froggy; not only was he exhausted from the intellectual challenges of making sure everything was going to run to plan, but he had been up half the night cleaning and hoovering so that we should have nothing to complain about when we got there.
Anyway, the food was good ( Banofee pie cookies ) and the drink gave us a choice of two whiskies (Scotch and Irish) and El Paco had turned up despite Lafayette having forgotten to ring him the night before on account of his being rat-arsed at the time.
So everyone indulged themselves greatly and then we were led out on to phase one of today’s ramble.
Everyone stood at the bus stop waving their bus passes in the faces of Froggy and BT
(who hadn’t got them) and then managed to get on the right bus to somewhere near Beachy Head to start off. The road was long and stoney, but straight enough so that there was at this stage no chance of getting lost. However we soon came to a dividing of the ways. Which road to take? Froggy wasn’t sure so out came the Mappa Mundi for reference. El Paco seemed to know the right direction but he was ignored. Froggy twisted the map around, tried to read it upside down, tried murmuring incantations, all to no avail. Paco insisted he knew where to go but Froggy wasn’t having any. Finally two hippy ramblers turned up and pointed us in Paco’s direction. So much for tight organisation! Paco now has a Cassandra complex.
It was a glorious, sunny day and the NERDS were singing along happily. All the little lambs we saw had numbers on them - one for each NERD, there were lots of Old Trout ramblers about, but thankfully they were miles from the pub we intended to invade. Froggy had a bad feeling about this pub, he said the people who ran it were snooty and offhand (so why take us there?) but as it happened the barmaid at The Eight Bells at Jevington was really nice and took to Harry ‘cos her boyfriend had the same name or something (blech! blech!).
We sat in the garden in the sun and Froggy was made to serve us with lots of sauces and condiments and stuff while we gave him marks out of ten for fetching and carrying . He got so flustered at one point that he told us he’d got a barrow in his family (Is this a sort of welsh family burial plot?). But when the food came (we all had meaty pie) the pies all had tons of meat in them and there were loads of chips so the food was definitely ’NERDS approved.‘ Froggy said he was never given any vegetables as a kid and that’s why he himself nearly grew up as a meaty pie -
different taste, though.
We staggered on for the second half of the ramble (exactly three miles, not a metre more, not a metre less) and got taken along a nasty, horrible, busy road with lots of wizzy cars going passed us. Eventually we hit woody fieldy areas again , trouble was they were mostly in the direction of up and Lafayette’s bowels began to play up too. Whether it was the excess of calvados taken the night before or his wife’s chile con carne he had had at breakfast (magic stuff!) he could contain himself no longer and had to wander off for an emergency crap. Good job there was a nice copse further up the hill where he could squat and wallow! Pity there weren’t any goats or Pakistanis to make sure he had a nice clean bum afterwards - like in the old days, but Hey! You can’t expect everything laid on for you.
When he returned to the fold Lafayette found the rest of the NERDS all flaked out lying in the middle of a very pleasant meadow, evidently the heavy lunch and the unaccustomed rigorous and disciplined activity had taken its toll. Lafayette let them slumber awhile and then woke them gently with a thunderous fart.
We carried on ever upwards it seemed but eventually descended another pleasant meadow into East Dean where The Tiger (pub) was waiting for us. Here they sold ‘Legless Rambler’ beer (and I’m not kidding!) which came from the Beachy Head Brewery. ‘I wonder where the Beachy Head Brewery is’ quoth Paco…‘D’oh!’ We all replied. We then spent a very pleasant hour in the late afternoon sun quaffing Legless Ramblers and trying to decide where we should go for the NERDS’ 250th. We decided to disqualify Philby from this since he’d missed a few rambles already this year and we didn’t fancy going to Belgium so soon again, anyway.
And so we all walked back to the bus stop and left Froggy standing when the wrong bus came again. Actually it was the right bus for all of us - it just didn’t happen to take Froggy back exactly to his front door (as planned).
And so another superlative ramble combining fantastic weather, good food and absolutely impeccable planning from Froggy. We all hope that BT gets home OK because Lafayette has nearly run out of red wine and calvados.
Looking forward to the 250th , you NERDS. (wherever the fuck it is!)
Lafayette.
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Froggy's joining instuctions for April Ramble
Fellow Nierdos,
Once again t'will be the number 12 bus to Eastbourne Downs Golf Course, but this time we'll be going in the opposite direction towards the Eight Bells in Jevington (which does fabulous Bambi Burgers). According to that wonderful tool; Google Map Distance Calculator, it is precisely 3 miles before lunch and precisely 3 miles after lunch back to the Tiger Inn, East Dean which is now open all day, every day. There will be about a mile of road walking, out of Jevington but the rest of the walk will all be off piste. The only bit of climbing will be that path with the telegraph poles which goes up towards Friston Pond from ButchersHole Bottom. After the Tiger, we can all pile onto another no 12 and just like the last time; exercise our individual preferences for what comes next.
Brian, you and I will need to get a day rover bus ticket. Lord Charles, could you please remember the whip purse?
As there will be a certain amount of flexibility needed in all meeting up (Harry off nights for starters, so he might need to be collected from the station) it would be best if everyone came to chez moi (via the stop at Newlands school and the cut through to Harrison Road for the busses and via the twitten by the 7 Sisters for a walking Paco). We'll have to start walking by 11:00 (bus at Newlands @ 10:40) to get a good seat & beat the Old Trouts!, so I suggest getting to mine between 09:15 and 09:30 for drinks and biks.
Matt & Mike! Just look at what you're missing!!!
See you all on Wednesday 21st April
Flip Flop Frog One
ps For those of you who like to see where they are going, you can see the entire walk through Google Maps (Satellite) by typing in Jevington,UK...............
Once again t'will be the number 12 bus to Eastbourne Downs Golf Course, but this time we'll be going in the opposite direction towards the Eight Bells in Jevington (which does fabulous Bambi Burgers). According to that wonderful tool; Google Map Distance Calculator, it is precisely 3 miles before lunch and precisely 3 miles after lunch back to the Tiger Inn, East Dean which is now open all day, every day. There will be about a mile of road walking, out of Jevington but the rest of the walk will all be off piste. The only bit of climbing will be that path with the telegraph poles which goes up towards Friston Pond from ButchersHole Bottom. After the Tiger, we can all pile onto another no 12 and just like the last time; exercise our individual preferences for what comes next.
Brian, you and I will need to get a day rover bus ticket. Lord Charles, could you please remember the whip purse?
As there will be a certain amount of flexibility needed in all meeting up (Harry off nights for starters, so he might need to be collected from the station) it would be best if everyone came to chez moi (via the stop at Newlands school and the cut through to Harrison Road for the busses and via the twitten by the 7 Sisters for a walking Paco). We'll have to start walking by 11:00 (bus at Newlands @ 10:40) to get a good seat & beat the Old Trouts!, so I suggest getting to mine between 09:15 and 09:30 for drinks and biks.
Matt & Mike! Just look at what you're missing!!!
See you all on Wednesday 21st April
Flip Flop Frog One
ps For those of you who like to see where they are going, you can see the entire walk through Google Maps (Satellite) by typing in Jevington,UK...............
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
N.E.R.D.S’ Ramble No. 244 - 24/3/10.
Those Present - Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Captain Haddock, El Paco.
The Pumpton Ramble. (sic)
The weather was dull and shitey threatening rain, no sign of Spring yet, but the NERDS threw all their troubles aside and went to Lewes to breakfast chez Vic in his Greasy Spoon caff on the station. Poor old Vic was in despair ; the railway company were threatening to close him down because his presence was not in accordance with the company ethos. Maybe it was because his coffee was of too high a standard or the fact that he was pleasant to his customers and read poetry to them - who knows? The NERDS were enraged; The Captain spluttered in rage; Sandyballs and Paco tried to get Vic to join their respective unions (laugh out loud); and everone signed Vic’s petition adding that the waitresses could perhaps be sexier and wear shorter skirts and even speak Lithuanian if necessary.
When we were finally chased out of the caff for being flippant we got the train to Plumpton where that day’s ramble was to start. Lafayette had brought along his two way radios that he had bought in case of emergencies and originally to keep his other girly rambling group in order. He handed one to Gold Leader, Sandyballs who quite liked the idea of using it even though Lafayette was only two feet to his right. Still, you really don’t know when a real emergency might take place do you? And someone might spot Philby floating around in a field somewhere.
The ramble proceeded; Froggy and Lafayette discussed why they both needed a bigger size of shoe these days and decided they were victims of ‘Fat Feet Syndrome’. Sandyballs told Lafayette that he really ought to pull his finger out (ugh!) and submit his stool samples to the health centre as required by his doctor. ( There are some disadvantages to being a pensioner and at the mercy of the NHS computer). In the meantime Gold Leader managed to get us all lost.
We found ourselves wandering up some pleasant farmy-type drive in the mud and the rain until some nice horsey lady told us kindly that we were trespassing and she would shoot us in the arse with her shotgun unless we all came in and shagged her and her horse. Although some of us were tempted (a bit) we all turned and fled back up to the main road.where after a bit of dithering about we passed a Marzipan Witch’s House and finally found The Jolly Sportsman pub, which we had actually been aiming for, for a pitstop.
This was a marvellous place. It sold two local beers (both excellent) and about 65 different whiskeys. Fortunately we kept to the beers that day but even so after a while Sandyballs found he couldn’t read the map saying that the symbol for a petrol pump looked like a mobile phone and what did PH mean? (God Almighty everyone knows it means Public House!) and Froggy told us proudly that there were three ‘plubs in Pumpton’ (presumably where you could go clumping of an evening).
We got a delightful barmaid called Laura to take our photo and then Froggy , who was really on form that day,( or just drunk) spotted a notice advertising ‘Pig Baby and Bar Nipples’ and thinking it was dish of the day ordered it from Laura who looked a bit puzzled. Sandyballs had not meant to lunch here but the fact that it was raining outside, we were warm , comfortable and full of beer inside, persuaded most of us we wanted to stay there. That is until we saw the prices on the menu…..
Saddened by the fact they wanted about fifteen quid for fish and chips, we reluctantly dragged ourselves out into the rain and set off for the Half Moon at Pumpton (ha ha!)
Nestled in the Sussex Downs at the joining of two minor roads, the Half Moon is a very pleasant pub which, when we arrived, was devoid of any vieilles truites (or truites vieilles - according to the way you were taught French). In fact it was devoid of anybody except us which is how the NERDS liked it. However it had a roaring fire which gave it the Captain’s vote and the menu seemed more reasonable which gave it Sandy balls’ vote too.
The lunch was excellent (and cheap) and of course it sold Harvey’s so it couldn’t go far wrong. The Captain, now replete, regaled us with tales of how he used to be a
‘fournisseur de chiens’ for the PAF (Police de L’air et des Frontieres for those of you who’ve forgotten). When Lafayette, whose French was excellent, asked if this meant that that Captain had actually been a pimp supplying the PAF with ugly ladies past their sell-by date, he was slapped down by the Captain who told him that he must be barking up the wrong tree.
The under manager was an excellent bloke, friendly and accommodating and we gave his pub the NERDS approved sticker (that is we would have if….). As we were favoured customers he took us into the back room and showed us all the erotic paintings of his regulars. He said if we kept going there we too might join that elusive band and have our portraits done with no clothes on (mental note, must tell Matt ..ed.)
We shall have to have a word with Bob down The Engineer - he doesn’t do any thing as good as this!
So, afterwards we walked back to get the train at Pumpton where we shared the carriage with all those poor people who had had to commute to work that day (lol)
We were grateful that Gold Leader hadn’t made us walk back up the escarpment to Lewes; now that would have sobered us up quicker than anything.
Thanks to Sandyballs for choosing a couple of good pubs and getting us lost once again. It had been a good ramble; lets hope we see both B.T. and Matt on the next one in April.
Remember, Matt, Spring is the time for lurv, so get that posing pouch out!
Lafayette.
Those Present - Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Captain Haddock, El Paco.
The Pumpton Ramble. (sic)
The weather was dull and shitey threatening rain, no sign of Spring yet, but the NERDS threw all their troubles aside and went to Lewes to breakfast chez Vic in his Greasy Spoon caff on the station. Poor old Vic was in despair ; the railway company were threatening to close him down because his presence was not in accordance with the company ethos. Maybe it was because his coffee was of too high a standard or the fact that he was pleasant to his customers and read poetry to them - who knows? The NERDS were enraged; The Captain spluttered in rage; Sandyballs and Paco tried to get Vic to join their respective unions (laugh out loud); and everone signed Vic’s petition adding that the waitresses could perhaps be sexier and wear shorter skirts and even speak Lithuanian if necessary.
When we were finally chased out of the caff for being flippant we got the train to Plumpton where that day’s ramble was to start. Lafayette had brought along his two way radios that he had bought in case of emergencies and originally to keep his other girly rambling group in order. He handed one to Gold Leader, Sandyballs who quite liked the idea of using it even though Lafayette was only two feet to his right. Still, you really don’t know when a real emergency might take place do you? And someone might spot Philby floating around in a field somewhere.
The ramble proceeded; Froggy and Lafayette discussed why they both needed a bigger size of shoe these days and decided they were victims of ‘Fat Feet Syndrome’. Sandyballs told Lafayette that he really ought to pull his finger out (ugh!) and submit his stool samples to the health centre as required by his doctor. ( There are some disadvantages to being a pensioner and at the mercy of the NHS computer). In the meantime Gold Leader managed to get us all lost.
We found ourselves wandering up some pleasant farmy-type drive in the mud and the rain until some nice horsey lady told us kindly that we were trespassing and she would shoot us in the arse with her shotgun unless we all came in and shagged her and her horse. Although some of us were tempted (a bit) we all turned and fled back up to the main road.where after a bit of dithering about we passed a Marzipan Witch’s House and finally found The Jolly Sportsman pub, which we had actually been aiming for, for a pitstop.
This was a marvellous place. It sold two local beers (both excellent) and about 65 different whiskeys. Fortunately we kept to the beers that day but even so after a while Sandyballs found he couldn’t read the map saying that the symbol for a petrol pump looked like a mobile phone and what did PH mean? (God Almighty everyone knows it means Public House!) and Froggy told us proudly that there were three ‘plubs in Pumpton’ (presumably where you could go clumping of an evening).
We got a delightful barmaid called Laura to take our photo and then Froggy , who was really on form that day,( or just drunk) spotted a notice advertising ‘Pig Baby and Bar Nipples’ and thinking it was dish of the day ordered it from Laura who looked a bit puzzled. Sandyballs had not meant to lunch here but the fact that it was raining outside, we were warm , comfortable and full of beer inside, persuaded most of us we wanted to stay there. That is until we saw the prices on the menu…..
Saddened by the fact they wanted about fifteen quid for fish and chips, we reluctantly dragged ourselves out into the rain and set off for the Half Moon at Pumpton (ha ha!)
Nestled in the Sussex Downs at the joining of two minor roads, the Half Moon is a very pleasant pub which, when we arrived, was devoid of any vieilles truites (or truites vieilles - according to the way you were taught French). In fact it was devoid of anybody except us which is how the NERDS liked it. However it had a roaring fire which gave it the Captain’s vote and the menu seemed more reasonable which gave it Sandy balls’ vote too.
The lunch was excellent (and cheap) and of course it sold Harvey’s so it couldn’t go far wrong. The Captain, now replete, regaled us with tales of how he used to be a
‘fournisseur de chiens’ for the PAF (Police de L’air et des Frontieres for those of you who’ve forgotten). When Lafayette, whose French was excellent, asked if this meant that that Captain had actually been a pimp supplying the PAF with ugly ladies past their sell-by date, he was slapped down by the Captain who told him that he must be barking up the wrong tree.
The under manager was an excellent bloke, friendly and accommodating and we gave his pub the NERDS approved sticker (that is we would have if….). As we were favoured customers he took us into the back room and showed us all the erotic paintings of his regulars. He said if we kept going there we too might join that elusive band and have our portraits done with no clothes on (mental note, must tell Matt ..ed.)
We shall have to have a word with Bob down The Engineer - he doesn’t do any thing as good as this!
So, afterwards we walked back to get the train at Pumpton where we shared the carriage with all those poor people who had had to commute to work that day (lol)
We were grateful that Gold Leader hadn’t made us walk back up the escarpment to Lewes; now that would have sobered us up quicker than anything.
Thanks to Sandyballs for choosing a couple of good pubs and getting us lost once again. It had been a good ramble; lets hope we see both B.T. and Matt on the next one in April.
Remember, Matt, Spring is the time for lurv, so get that posing pouch out!
Lafayette.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The March Ramble 2010
Whilst awaiting the write-up from the scribe here are Froggy's photographs of the edpedition.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Dear Fellow Nerds,
This month's ramble should hopefully be in lovely Spring weather. That time of the year when Nerds hold hands and frolic together amongst the daffodils in sylvan glades....Anyway, the date is Wednesday 24th.
Firstly, you will need a return ticket to Plumpton. Secondly, you can lay in your beds a little longer as the Seaford/ Newhaven contingents will be getting the 10.25/ 10.32 to Lewes where we meet at the Runaway cafe on Platform 2 and then take the 11.18 to Plumpton. Incidentally, you can take the later train from Seaford/ Newhaven and (just) make the onward 11.18 but it would be cutting it rather fine - and you would miss out on the bacon sarnies at Vics.
The reason for the later departure is so that we can take in a quick pint at the Jolly Sportsman in East Chiltington before proceeding to the revamped half Moon pub for lunch. Jolly Sportsman does not open till 12. Over the years I have learnt that there is nothing a Nerd likes more than a pint before having a lot of other pints!
Hope to see you all there.
Sandyballs
This month's ramble should hopefully be in lovely Spring weather. That time of the year when Nerds hold hands and frolic together amongst the daffodils in sylvan glades....Anyway, the date is Wednesday 24th.
Firstly, you will need a return ticket to Plumpton. Secondly, you can lay in your beds a little longer as the Seaford/ Newhaven contingents will be getting the 10.25/ 10.32 to Lewes where we meet at the Runaway cafe on Platform 2 and then take the 11.18 to Plumpton. Incidentally, you can take the later train from Seaford/ Newhaven and (just) make the onward 11.18 but it would be cutting it rather fine - and you would miss out on the bacon sarnies at Vics.
The reason for the later departure is so that we can take in a quick pint at the Jolly Sportsman in East Chiltington before proceeding to the revamped half Moon pub for lunch. Jolly Sportsman does not open till 12. Over the years I have learnt that there is nothing a Nerd likes more than a pint before having a lot of other pints!
Hope to see you all there.
Sandyballs
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
February's Ramble
In view of the derth of any photographs appearing from the budding photographers who attended the ramble, here are some I took earlier.
Monday, March 01, 2010
NERDS’ Ramble No. 243 - 24/2/10.
Those Present - Sandyballs, Lafayette, El Paco, Cuddles Crowe.
The Ramble When Most people Were Ill.
As you may guess from the title most of the NERDS were suffering from various lurgies this month. Pride of place went to Froggy who was allegedly producing projectile vomiting from both ends - had to be dramatic didn’t it? Then there was Sandyballs who was snivelling into his handkerchief and taking (pharmecutical) drugs, but at least had the good grace to attend; Matt was having his lavatory rearranged and Bronco, well poor Bronco was always ill - couldn’t walk and couldn’t drink. So to produce a quorum of at least three Lafayette had to go out recruiting.
First off he rang El Paco who for once seemed to be aware that a ramble was actually taking place, then he got hold of Cuddles Crowe from the Islamabad Hash and Grand Imperial Wizard of Her Majesty’s Border Control (Northern France Division). B. T. said he was washing his hair that day and in any case it was a long way to travel.
So, this motley crew rolled up at Lavender Lodge chez Lafayette and having finished off all his calvados immediately began wacking into the Morgans Spiced Rum and choccy biscuits. The day began with Cuddles giving a vitriolic presentation on Brodie Clarke C.B.E. devil incarnate and destroyer of H.M. Immi Border Agency thingy.
The discussion got quite heated and ranty and El Paco and Lafayette sat on the sideline giggling and counting their huge pensions while the other two vented their spleens and their worries.
Finally somebody noticed a glimmer of yellow outside the window and we all dashed outside to take advantage of this unusual weather phenomenom. It was too late by now to ramble over the cliffs to The Badgers’Watch (original plan) so Lafayette led everyone on his favourite route round the back of Parker Pen and past the muddy allotments of Newhaven’s hinterland. Due to the amount of moaning and wingeing about muddy feet from everyone Lafayette wondered if they knew what the first principles of NERDS’ rambling were (apart from no pooftahs and no women) ie. get everybody shitty. Nevertheless we all ploughed on towards the Wetlands and Bird Sanctuary.
It seems to be a well known fact that middle aged men all find TV weather girls very attractive and Cuddles preferred the dusky charms of that Nazaneen to the more mature attractions of that blonde Carole as advocated by Sandyballs and Lafayette.
Again the discussion got heated but in a more pleasant way, and the advantages of Nazaneen’s ample bum were compared to the beaming smile and upper body parts of Miss. Kirkwood. The contest was declared a draw as we wound our way past lots of ducks and things sitting on ponds recently augmented by the winter rains.
Eventually we ended up in The Flying Fish at Denton (as opposed to The Laughing Fish at Isfield) and found to our delight that rumours of the landlady’s sudden demise
(as spread by Sandyballs) were totally false. More to the point, her husband, a French chef, was still alive and cooking. Good job as well because the pub suddenly started to fill up with large parties of real ramblers and the dreaded , dithering Old Trouts so hated by The Frogster.
The pub started to resemble Piccadilly Circus on a Saturday afternoon - lucky that the
Important People (NERDS) had managed to get in relatively early and get their food. This, as might be expected from a French Chef was pretty good, and the beer although somewhat unusual, being either red or green from Shepherd Neame (somewhere in Kent) was definitely OK. However the noise and dithering of the Old Trouts finally got on our nerves so Lafayette took everyone out and back to their comfort zone of chez Bob at The Engineer.
The Engineer has strange opening hours (as we all know) but that day it opened at 3pm which is usually when the NERDS are chucked out of one pub and have nowhere to go. The usual fat barmaid - one of Bob’s offspring - greeted us effusively since we were the only customers, while Sandyballs handed over the whip purse to Lafayette which the latter had tried to abandon in the last pub. (This purse has a mind of its own, it must be said, it empties itself of money when no-one is looking and loses itself in whatever pub we happen to be in).
Anyway, after a few scoops Sandyballs thought it would be a good idea to ring up Mrs Sandyballs, who was teaching round the corner, and invite her to the pub for a drink, thereby scoring himself a lift home.This seemed to work just as El Paco was casting terrible aspersions on the NERDS by saying we should get hold of ski poles to walk properly and take things seriously. What a load of old bollocks. He was told in no uncertain terms that if he wanted to start a splinter group of his own that was fine by us!
Cuddles thought at this stage it might be a wheeze to lure his own wife down to the Engineer to get taken home but he kept getting text messages ordering him to report back sofort to chez Lafayette or the Gestapo would get him. Guiltily he slunk off while Lafayette took El Paco home to sober up before the long trip back to Seaford
It had been an interesting ramble and the weather had given us a little window of sunshine in all the recent winter’s shite. It had been nice to meet up with Cuddles again and we hoped his wife had not beaten him with her rubber truncheon too much. Let’s hope all the regular NERDS stop their projectile vomiting and such like before next time so that we can get back on track.
Los Nierdos Para Siempre!
Lafayette.
Those Present - Sandyballs, Lafayette, El Paco, Cuddles Crowe.
The Ramble When Most people Were Ill.
As you may guess from the title most of the NERDS were suffering from various lurgies this month. Pride of place went to Froggy who was allegedly producing projectile vomiting from both ends - had to be dramatic didn’t it? Then there was Sandyballs who was snivelling into his handkerchief and taking (pharmecutical) drugs, but at least had the good grace to attend; Matt was having his lavatory rearranged and Bronco, well poor Bronco was always ill - couldn’t walk and couldn’t drink. So to produce a quorum of at least three Lafayette had to go out recruiting.
First off he rang El Paco who for once seemed to be aware that a ramble was actually taking place, then he got hold of Cuddles Crowe from the Islamabad Hash and Grand Imperial Wizard of Her Majesty’s Border Control (Northern France Division). B. T. said he was washing his hair that day and in any case it was a long way to travel.
So, this motley crew rolled up at Lavender Lodge chez Lafayette and having finished off all his calvados immediately began wacking into the Morgans Spiced Rum and choccy biscuits. The day began with Cuddles giving a vitriolic presentation on Brodie Clarke C.B.E. devil incarnate and destroyer of H.M. Immi Border Agency thingy.
The discussion got quite heated and ranty and El Paco and Lafayette sat on the sideline giggling and counting their huge pensions while the other two vented their spleens and their worries.
Finally somebody noticed a glimmer of yellow outside the window and we all dashed outside to take advantage of this unusual weather phenomenom. It was too late by now to ramble over the cliffs to The Badgers’Watch (original plan) so Lafayette led everyone on his favourite route round the back of Parker Pen and past the muddy allotments of Newhaven’s hinterland. Due to the amount of moaning and wingeing about muddy feet from everyone Lafayette wondered if they knew what the first principles of NERDS’ rambling were (apart from no pooftahs and no women) ie. get everybody shitty. Nevertheless we all ploughed on towards the Wetlands and Bird Sanctuary.
It seems to be a well known fact that middle aged men all find TV weather girls very attractive and Cuddles preferred the dusky charms of that Nazaneen to the more mature attractions of that blonde Carole as advocated by Sandyballs and Lafayette.
Again the discussion got heated but in a more pleasant way, and the advantages of Nazaneen’s ample bum were compared to the beaming smile and upper body parts of Miss. Kirkwood. The contest was declared a draw as we wound our way past lots of ducks and things sitting on ponds recently augmented by the winter rains.
Eventually we ended up in The Flying Fish at Denton (as opposed to The Laughing Fish at Isfield) and found to our delight that rumours of the landlady’s sudden demise
(as spread by Sandyballs) were totally false. More to the point, her husband, a French chef, was still alive and cooking. Good job as well because the pub suddenly started to fill up with large parties of real ramblers and the dreaded , dithering Old Trouts so hated by The Frogster.
The pub started to resemble Piccadilly Circus on a Saturday afternoon - lucky that the
Important People (NERDS) had managed to get in relatively early and get their food. This, as might be expected from a French Chef was pretty good, and the beer although somewhat unusual, being either red or green from Shepherd Neame (somewhere in Kent) was definitely OK. However the noise and dithering of the Old Trouts finally got on our nerves so Lafayette took everyone out and back to their comfort zone of chez Bob at The Engineer.
The Engineer has strange opening hours (as we all know) but that day it opened at 3pm which is usually when the NERDS are chucked out of one pub and have nowhere to go. The usual fat barmaid - one of Bob’s offspring - greeted us effusively since we were the only customers, while Sandyballs handed over the whip purse to Lafayette which the latter had tried to abandon in the last pub. (This purse has a mind of its own, it must be said, it empties itself of money when no-one is looking and loses itself in whatever pub we happen to be in).
Anyway, after a few scoops Sandyballs thought it would be a good idea to ring up Mrs Sandyballs, who was teaching round the corner, and invite her to the pub for a drink, thereby scoring himself a lift home.This seemed to work just as El Paco was casting terrible aspersions on the NERDS by saying we should get hold of ski poles to walk properly and take things seriously. What a load of old bollocks. He was told in no uncertain terms that if he wanted to start a splinter group of his own that was fine by us!
Cuddles thought at this stage it might be a wheeze to lure his own wife down to the Engineer to get taken home but he kept getting text messages ordering him to report back sofort to chez Lafayette or the Gestapo would get him. Guiltily he slunk off while Lafayette took El Paco home to sober up before the long trip back to Seaford
It had been an interesting ramble and the weather had given us a little window of sunshine in all the recent winter’s shite. It had been nice to meet up with Cuddles again and we hoped his wife had not beaten him with her rubber truncheon too much. Let’s hope all the regular NERDS stop their projectile vomiting and such like before next time so that we can get back on track.
Los Nierdos Para Siempre!
Lafayette.
Monday, February 22, 2010
February Ramble
Hail fellow Nerds,
As you all must know, the next ramble is set for this Wednesday 24th. Joining instructions are that we meet at the Purple Palace in Meeching Road at about 10 -ish. Many thanks again to Lafayette. The ramble destination depends on several factors - principally the weather. Hey, we may not ramble anywhere - it depends on how the whim takes us. We may just hang around on a Seaford street corner and beat up any Cords members which may pass by!
Another date for your diary. We have provisionally booked the March ramble for Wednesday 24th - same date as this month's. Anybody got any problems with the date ( apart from BT - but who threatens to join us for April)?
When we reach a hostelry I would like to talk seriously about the New Forest ramble in June.
Sandyballs
As you all must know, the next ramble is set for this Wednesday 24th. Joining instructions are that we meet at the Purple Palace in Meeching Road at about 10 -ish. Many thanks again to Lafayette. The ramble destination depends on several factors - principally the weather. Hey, we may not ramble anywhere - it depends on how the whim takes us. We may just hang around on a Seaford street corner and beat up any Cords members which may pass by!
Another date for your diary. We have provisionally booked the March ramble for Wednesday 24th - same date as this month's. Anybody got any problems with the date ( apart from BT - but who threatens to join us for April)?
When we reach a hostelry I would like to talk seriously about the New Forest ramble in June.
Sandyballs
Monday, February 15, 2010
Valentine's Ramble?
Next Ramble is on the 24th of February meeting in Newhaven. I'm sure the weather will be fine and balmy.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Janiary 2010s First Ramble - at last
N.E.R.D.S’ Ramble No 242 - 28/01/10.
The Ramble that Paco forgot.
Those Present - El Paco (Yes, really), Lafayette, Sandyballs, Froggy, Matt,
& Captain Haddock.
This was a rearranged ramble because of snow earlier in the month. The evening before, Lafayette thought it might be a good idea to ring up Paco to make sure he knew what his Nerding responsibilities were. However before he could get a word out Paco launched into an apologetic tirade about how sorry he was to have missed last week’s ramble cos he’d felt a bit poorly and how he promised faithfully to attend the next one - Grovel, grovel. Lafayette observed drily that actually he would have his chance the next day because obviously he’d got his dates muddled up (again).
Anyway, the next day Lafayette was waiting for a train at Newhaven station, amusing himself by reading Racine or something, when all of a sudden he was jerked out of his intellectual revery by the arrival of a scruffy looking individual hiding behind a blondish/greyish beard who looked vaguely familiar. Lafayette’s heart skipped a beat, his copy of French classical literature slid to the floor, “ Aaah,no, the bastard hasn’t come back to haunt me.” he thought, but on taking a closer look it turned out to be The Admiral who was obviously spending his retirement growing facial hair in a vain attempt to resemble his dead Belgian hero .
The Admiral and Lafayette boarded the 10. 35 to meet most of the rest of the NERDS
and travelled to Lewes to be picked up by Herr Generalissimo Routemeister, Sandyballs. The latter took one look at the Admiral, screamed loudly and said “God , you look just like Captain Haddock.” - and so the name stuck.
The NERDS trailed through Lewes, trying to look middle class and respectable (all except Sandyballs who liked to think of himself as being working class even though he did actually live there), and fetched up in ‘ Le Magasin’, a pretentious coffee house in Cliffe High Street. Over lattes and coffee mochas (see, I told you it was pretentious) Froggy told some dubious tale of how Bob at the Engineer used to leer at him and stroke his ‘Mr. Woody’ whenever Froggy walked into the pub. Matt rather liked this idea and resolved to go to see Bob more frequently.
To everyone’s dismay it was found that nobody had brought the whip with them. Everybody vaguely remembered that Lafayette had confiscated it from Froggy at the Christmas ramble when the latter had left the purse in the pub, but Lafayette couldn’t for the life of him remember where he had put it back at home. He fervently hoped he had put it in one of his fabulous Mughal copper pots - the one he usually kept his yellow embark cards in. And so El Paco paid for this round and claimed the money back later.
Finally we got to rambling.The route wended past Tesco’s, along the banks of
The Mighty Ouse in the direction of Hamsey. Underfoot it was muddy, very muddy and Routemeister covered his back against any compensation claims by alleging he had spelt out all the potential hazards in his joining instructions. Nobody took any notice of that but all secretly hoped Sandyballs would be the one to slip off the bank into the river.
Matt said provocatively that his other group never cancelled because of the weather, and Lafayette said that was because they were a lazy bunch of C***S who never actually went outside a pub (and who were aptly named after their stupid trousers.) The mud continued, we slipped and slid and eventually headed for the church at Hamsey where Sandyballs said he wanted to show us something spooky in the churchyard.
Just at this point we met up with a couple of ladies who also liked to get up to nefarious activities in dodgy graveyards. We didn’t get their names (Philby would have certainly done so) but Sandy balls dragged everyone over to some old, mouldering headstone which related how about four members of the same family managed to die in the same year. Either their dad was a serial killer who got fed up with his daughters coming to him for yet more money, lifts, jewellery etc or else they’d all died of starvation unaware that there was a branch of Waitrose not far off.
The ladies were both very impressed with Sandyballs’ conspiracy theories and headed off back to their car.
Some time after, just as the NERDS were heading in the direction of Oafham (sic) and thinking of foaming pints, Lafayette , Paco and Matt stumbled across the two ladies again. The attractive blonde one spontaneously began to tell Lafayette her whole life story - must have thought he had a sympathetic face - that she was a widow, had to look after two teenage boys and somebody’s grandpa, that she didn’t get out much and did he have lady members in his rambling group? Lafayette said that regretfully women only came rarely on NERDS’ rambles and then only in exceptional circumstances. (Like if they were shaggable like her ). Just then the others dragged Lafayette away before lust really took over and Sandyballs accused him of outrageous
pussymongering.“ Nonsense,” said Lafayette, “ Attractive widows need to be encouraged; you never know when you might need one.”
Anyway, on, on to the Chalk Pit Pub where the food and drink was found to be good and where the barmaid explained to us the intricacies of the Lewes Open Toad Playing Championships (yawn). Every body had a go but just succeeded in making an unholy racket in the pub and disturbing all the other diners. We missed Bronco and his large appetite here and wondered what he was getting up to. Plans were hatched for a trip to the New Forest although Matt said he didn’t want to come because he was having an exclusive 70th birthday party for people like Mike Clarke , and of course,the C***S.
Then things began to get a bit vague after most of the NERDS went off home leaving Sandyballs and Lafayette to drink rum and coke and poke the fire in the Lewes Arms.
It had been an eventful ramble and we hoped that Bronco and B.T. could join us in the near future.
So keep on NERDING and death to all other spurious groups. Lafayette.
The Ramble that Paco forgot.
Those Present - El Paco (Yes, really), Lafayette, Sandyballs, Froggy, Matt,
& Captain Haddock.
This was a rearranged ramble because of snow earlier in the month. The evening before, Lafayette thought it might be a good idea to ring up Paco to make sure he knew what his Nerding responsibilities were. However before he could get a word out Paco launched into an apologetic tirade about how sorry he was to have missed last week’s ramble cos he’d felt a bit poorly and how he promised faithfully to attend the next one - Grovel, grovel. Lafayette observed drily that actually he would have his chance the next day because obviously he’d got his dates muddled up (again).
Anyway, the next day Lafayette was waiting for a train at Newhaven station, amusing himself by reading Racine or something, when all of a sudden he was jerked out of his intellectual revery by the arrival of a scruffy looking individual hiding behind a blondish/greyish beard who looked vaguely familiar. Lafayette’s heart skipped a beat, his copy of French classical literature slid to the floor, “ Aaah,no, the bastard hasn’t come back to haunt me.” he thought, but on taking a closer look it turned out to be The Admiral who was obviously spending his retirement growing facial hair in a vain attempt to resemble his dead Belgian hero .
The Admiral and Lafayette boarded the 10. 35 to meet most of the rest of the NERDS
and travelled to Lewes to be picked up by Herr Generalissimo Routemeister, Sandyballs. The latter took one look at the Admiral, screamed loudly and said “God , you look just like Captain Haddock.” - and so the name stuck.
The NERDS trailed through Lewes, trying to look middle class and respectable (all except Sandyballs who liked to think of himself as being working class even though he did actually live there), and fetched up in ‘ Le Magasin’, a pretentious coffee house in Cliffe High Street. Over lattes and coffee mochas (see, I told you it was pretentious) Froggy told some dubious tale of how Bob at the Engineer used to leer at him and stroke his ‘Mr. Woody’ whenever Froggy walked into the pub. Matt rather liked this idea and resolved to go to see Bob more frequently.
To everyone’s dismay it was found that nobody had brought the whip with them. Everybody vaguely remembered that Lafayette had confiscated it from Froggy at the Christmas ramble when the latter had left the purse in the pub, but Lafayette couldn’t for the life of him remember where he had put it back at home. He fervently hoped he had put it in one of his fabulous Mughal copper pots - the one he usually kept his yellow embark cards in. And so El Paco paid for this round and claimed the money back later.
Finally we got to rambling.The route wended past Tesco’s, along the banks of
The Mighty Ouse in the direction of Hamsey. Underfoot it was muddy, very muddy and Routemeister covered his back against any compensation claims by alleging he had spelt out all the potential hazards in his joining instructions. Nobody took any notice of that but all secretly hoped Sandyballs would be the one to slip off the bank into the river.
Matt said provocatively that his other group never cancelled because of the weather, and Lafayette said that was because they were a lazy bunch of C***S who never actually went outside a pub (and who were aptly named after their stupid trousers.) The mud continued, we slipped and slid and eventually headed for the church at Hamsey where Sandyballs said he wanted to show us something spooky in the churchyard.
Just at this point we met up with a couple of ladies who also liked to get up to nefarious activities in dodgy graveyards. We didn’t get their names (Philby would have certainly done so) but Sandy balls dragged everyone over to some old, mouldering headstone which related how about four members of the same family managed to die in the same year. Either their dad was a serial killer who got fed up with his daughters coming to him for yet more money, lifts, jewellery etc or else they’d all died of starvation unaware that there was a branch of Waitrose not far off.
The ladies were both very impressed with Sandyballs’ conspiracy theories and headed off back to their car.
Some time after, just as the NERDS were heading in the direction of Oafham (sic) and thinking of foaming pints, Lafayette , Paco and Matt stumbled across the two ladies again. The attractive blonde one spontaneously began to tell Lafayette her whole life story - must have thought he had a sympathetic face - that she was a widow, had to look after two teenage boys and somebody’s grandpa, that she didn’t get out much and did he have lady members in his rambling group? Lafayette said that regretfully women only came rarely on NERDS’ rambles and then only in exceptional circumstances. (Like if they were shaggable like her ). Just then the others dragged Lafayette away before lust really took over and Sandyballs accused him of outrageous
pussymongering.“ Nonsense,” said Lafayette, “ Attractive widows need to be encouraged; you never know when you might need one.”
Anyway, on, on to the Chalk Pit Pub where the food and drink was found to be good and where the barmaid explained to us the intricacies of the Lewes Open Toad Playing Championships (yawn). Every body had a go but just succeeded in making an unholy racket in the pub and disturbing all the other diners. We missed Bronco and his large appetite here and wondered what he was getting up to. Plans were hatched for a trip to the New Forest although Matt said he didn’t want to come because he was having an exclusive 70th birthday party for people like Mike Clarke , and of course,the C***S.
Then things began to get a bit vague after most of the NERDS went off home leaving Sandyballs and Lafayette to drink rum and coke and poke the fire in the Lewes Arms.
It had been an eventful ramble and we hoped that Bronco and B.T. could join us in the near future.
So keep on NERDING and death to all other spurious groups. Lafayette.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Rearranged Ramble for January 2010
For the first time in history we were forced to abandon a Ramble because of weather this month. However, nil desperandum, the event has been rearranged to Thursday 28th. same route, same time - so the 10.25 from Seaford,etc. Let us see what the Almighty decides to send us for weather - Religious Advisor to do the needful, please.
We may as well think about the February Ramble. How about Wednesday 24th, for example. Anyone got problems with that?
See you all at Lewes station on 28/1.
Sandyballs
We may as well think about the February Ramble. How about Wednesday 24th, for example. Anyone got problems with that?
See you all at Lewes station on 28/1.
Sandyballs
Saturday, January 09, 2010
January Ramble posponed
Thw first ramble of the year was cancelled due to inclement weather and Sandyballs's toe. We await with baited breath when it will be reconvened at a date suitable. Is the year 2010 the year Sandyballs's direct catholic line to the creator is terminated or will the weather just improve!
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