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Monday, July 17, 2006
1:14 PM New Forest 06 Following on from last weeks trip to Bournemouth, Thursday saw the arrival of our annual trip to the South coast. And within minutes of arriving at our destination, I did what I hadn't done for the previous 5-odd weeks: have a beer. OK, it's not like I cracked under the strain or anything, my period of sobriety has been pretty easy actually. But for the first time since, I felt like a couple of cans. And I needed something to put me to sleep too, else I would have stayed up worrying about the killer bear/moose monster that was probably lurking around outside the house. The next morning it was time to cook breakfast. We knew that there was a variety of wild animals we could hunt and gather, so the meal would undoubtedly consist of horse, rabbit, cow and possibly human meat. Unfortunately the animals must have sensed their impending doom and scampered, so we were left with our only available option; driving down to Tesco. Several omlette sandwiches and cups of coffee later, and we were all set for the beach. Sun, sea, sand, sexy ladies, the Bournemouth had it all. What could top it? Playing catch of course! Although it would have been nice, we couldn't spend the whole weekend there. We had to have a game of football on the field behind the house, which our team won (despite our star striker Chopper running on to a goal-bound effort and knocking it wide). After that, the barbeque beckoned. The food preparation was well underway, and I made some skewers with such precision that uniformity that Henry Ford would have been proud. Seriously, you could have set a watch to them. The only problem arose when it came to actually cooking them; the disposable barbeque sets were a little... shall we say... crap. We could have produced more heat opening the fridge door than those things could muster, so a lot of the salmonella food had to be done in the oven. But all was good in the end. Food cooked, vodka jellies consumed, empty Corona bottles everywhere, I'd say that sounds like a success. Saturday was our sports day, and after everyone had arrived we played a game of manly baseball (or girly rounders, take your pick). Since Dough Boy and myself had elected ourselves captains, an de facto Alpha Male contest was in place. I was one up from the football, so to consolidate my lead there was only one thing to do: pick Chufty 'The Terminator' on my side. He'd improved slightly from last time and with him pitching, me catching and Keith and Tom getting numerous home-runs we trounced dough boy's pitiful little band. Two-nil to the skillz! A long long walk to the pub was the order of the afternoon. Well, it wasn't that long, only about 2 miles, but some of it was on a slight incline and it was scorching out there. We stumbled upon ye olde pub which had traditional country cuisine for us to scoff: sandwiches and slush puppies. Naturally Chufty finished his within seconds. Kat amused all by ordering a ploughman's lunch, which had more cheese than that film Independance Day. If she'd have eaten it all she would have had to go to hospital, that portion was about 10% below a lethal dose of cheddar. We headed back to the cottage via a long winding road (yup, we got lost and walked in a circle) and fired up the second barbeque. This one was more of a success as we used a proper barbeque and a brontosaurus's worth of coal. Props to Jon who made Ready Steady Cooked loads of the burgers from scratch. All the food was ready, but the other half of the group were still sitting in the pub, and it was getting dark. We waited for what seemed an eternity and then decided to get eating (it was probably like 10 minutes or something!) and by the time we were done they still hadn't come back. They were lost. Chris and Jon went to find them, and after several hours they returned, shaken and traumatised from the experience of wandering around in the pitch black forest in shorts. We were secretly hoping they'd be Blair Witched so we could get interviewed on the local news, but alas their arrival quashed that dream. Everyone was feeling pretty tired from the night before, so Sunday was a more relaxing affair or finishing the remaining food and playing team Trivial Pursuit. Once again me and Chris were on different teams, and his record against me was pretty good; in several games in the past he's beaten me every time. But not this time. Chris may know about important stuff like history and literature, but I was the one who knew about the dog from The Beverley Hillbillies and Leroy from Fame. Step up Col for answering something about a fascist Italian and BAM, the game was ours! Doughy had been Alpha Maled yet again, a hat-trick no less. Before setting off home we went for one final walk through the forest. We swung on a rope swing, climbed trees and skimmed stones; it was like some sickly sweet flashback montage from a crap film. Top weekend.  Video of Mo vs Benny Hill taken by Midge Leave a comment ::
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