The innaugural road trip: St Ives

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Heading South for the Whitsun Bank Holiday weekend

So the van, nearing completion took off (with my assistance) on route to Cornwall for a few days of camping, surfing and general beach grooving.

We managed to score some cheeky waves on Saturday night in a swell that was supposed to have gone, but hung on just long enough for us to get wet and make fools of ourselves again. All good fun, and we managed a 2 hour session. Water warming up too - summer suit and boots only this time. A nice change to full winters on the last trip to Hells Mouth.

The met office celebrates

The forecast was for wind, rain, sun and wind and rain, and clouds and rain.... and wind. The forecast was right. Well apart from the sun bit. Steve brought his new roof tent, purchased at a bargain from his bro and their mischievious importing business, so was excited to get it up when we arrived. He was somewhat less excited when he woke up in a puddle in the middle of the night. If only he'd bought an eneuretic mattress to accompany the £800 unit. Having said that, Steve must've drawn some respite from the fact that for the first time the dampness in which he awoke was not due to his 'man problems'. Bless. There's something a little disturbing about a grown man waking in tears. Still, not my problem. I was bone dry and in fact quite comfortably toasty in the downstairs room. Well I had a hobbit friend to keep me warm too.

Rock-n-Roll

Yeah, the new bed was definitely rock-n-roll. Super comfy, bone dry and remarkably resilient to the wind. Next phase: Curtains and curtain rail. The old towel and blanket curtains are becoming a bit of a bind.

TV Celeb's Tears of Pain

So the next morning - after the tears had waned, Steve instructed me to take some pics of the tent. He's used to bossing people around. I think its the norm for TV folk. He hasn't carried his bags for months. In fact I've been carrying his ass for a while now too. Still, not wanting to damage his fragile ego, I took some pics to placate him. Although I did make the mistake of asking him why he wanted the pictures... "So I can sell the b*stard thing on ebay" came the reply. Let's hope he's managed that before this blog makes it out. Ooops.

Food is Good

Anyway, that wason the Sunday - the Monday was much better weather and although the surf was flat again Rusty and I managed to entertain ourselves with a brief 30 minute run in the morning, then I cooked the usual monster breakfast. Not that we were particularly hungry, but since I have a two ring hob in my van (yes a two ring hob in my van) I pleasured in cooking up a treat. Veggie burgers, fried eggs and cheese to make a Egg McMascarenhas Muffin. Sweet as (as the kiwi's would say), or "super sweet" as steve would exclaim. It was somewhere around this point that Steve made quite an astute observation. "It's great having a camping buddy who's just got a new grill and loves food." Needless to say I was the camp bitch, chained to the kitchen for the trip. I didn't complain, as everything I needed was comfortably within my reach.

Vacuum Shy

Can't remember really what else we did on the Sunday, though I'm sure it involved more food, a few nips of ale and some random campsite games. Oh yeah, that was it. Knock the vacuum cleaner off the chair. It's much like a coconut shy but played with a vacuum cleaner a cricket ball and about 20yds of open field. Naturally I was the best and Wedge cried because he apparently has the throwing arm of a bag of brussels sprouts. Frankly I think Millie could have done better.

Crap Golf

Far be it for me to talk up my game, but I am clearly the best. And the best sometimes, not often, but sometimes has a bad day. And I guess statistics tell us that that bad day at some point will coincide with someone else's good day.

Bloody Welsh Midgets

We ventured back home on Thursday morning after a morning surf session at Watergate bay, arriving home just in time for our Aston knockout cricket match. After putting up 81 off 15.1 overs, they managed to knock em off for none. As punishment we've all got to neck a welly next week. Joy. Anyway, next morning after a clear-out and tidy up of the Duke we headed west to Coed-Y-Brenin, found a crackin campsite in a beautiful spot and then got eaten alive by a bunch of midgets
(apparently that's what them really small flies are called in Hungary). Well Steve & Gyoze did. Apparently they were tastier than me. I did get one rather nasty one on my elbow though that was really rather itchy. Still not quite as bad as Gyozo's legs which had more bites than clear skin. Hee.

Still it was worth the turmoil (although I wouldn't know really) as we had a sweet 1hour ride on Friday, I grabbed a game of golf at Bala on Saturday (redeemed myself by halving with a pro - alright he gave me a shot a hole, but 17 over wasn't too bad considering how little I play). Then Sunday I managed a 5 mile run through the Coed-Y-Brenin forrest while the other goons had another ride.

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