REPORTS |
A group of us gathered on the Friday night at the annual CAMRA beer festival. The event was the usual mix of a huge variety of real ales, wines and ciders coupled with some good music.
Our chairman together with his family and friends set up base camp Parsons, aka a tartan blanket, in front of the hog roast and duly invited other members of the walking club to join them. On our arrival Alan introduced us to the various members of his family but appeared to have some difficulty remembering which of the women present was actually his wife, indicating a lady who clearly was not!
From the base camp there were regular expeditions to the main tents to obtain more beer, meet friends or listen to the bands. On returning from one of these expeditions, club members were concerned to see the Parsons family and friends standing round in a circle staring at something on the floor! This “something” turned out to be a lady who had destroyed the base camp and was rolling around in the blanket shouting that she needed to go home! Her three friends were standing nearby laughing hysterically and trying to encourage her to get up! One of them suggested to Alan that he should pick her up! Alan replied that it was a long time since he had picked up a woman! He went on to assure us that this woman had appeared from nowhere and thrown herself headlong into their midst onto the blanket. However there was some suspicion that this could in fact be another one of Alan’s wives!!!! (Ed – Dam! The secret’s out.)
A postscript to this report is just to mention that during our journey up to the Peak District the following Sunday, Alan claimed to remember none of this!! (Ed – well the beer was good)
(Ed – on my count, there were 10 members of the Club at the festival on the Friday but I don't think anybody met up with all the others. Such are the problems of finding each other in a crowd. But the base camp idea is a good one for future years – providing we don’t get any strange women taking over our blanket!!)
Angela
