after an hour and a half of harassing the citizens of Nottingham the trip started with the most petrifying minibus trip i've ever been on, if you want to know why, ask one of the brave souls who went but its probably in everyone's best interests that the goings on of Otto are not mentioned to loudly. Lets just say it was Sticky when wet.
Managing to arrive @ the campsite before last orders tents were pitched and the hikers remained by the beer until the bar closed and they and the remaining 'kayakers' were asked to leave.
Saturday morning and it was off to play on Dartmoor, the hiking club, joined by John Wellar and a member from both sub aqua and water ski covered 8 tors and 11 miles in a day of fun in the sun whilst snowballing each other and sliding through the snow. There seems to be 3 real highlights from that day the first was our new friend (and member if he pays £12) Mr Sticky, the clubs snowman, who wore one of the fashionable sticky when wet designer tshirts, smokes cigarettes, has wine gums for eyes and wears plenty of sun tan lotion and was posed around for a hoarde of cameras. Just in case any of the ladies are wondering Mr Sticky was a very well endowed man until Claire chopped it off, unfortunately he wont be quite as much fun now.
The 2nd came later in the day on the way back to Otto, Claire decided that despite all the snow ball fights she was still too dry and with the trip being called Sticky when wet she had to do something. Going one better than falling asleep in the toilet Claire sunk to her waist in the bog (photo available soon) and had to drag herself out and then face the riddicule and inuendos of those around her Filthy when wet??
To finish the walk and show those from other clubs how lively and active the hiking club is we just had to go to the pub, however i am disappointed to say that our new social secretary had difficulties in recognising a licenced establishment, the fact that one part of the building looked like a Ginger Bread House and the side was a boot is no excuse. Inside the pub got stranger, with the landlord seating us in "the tunnel". The pub was full of nooks and crannies with old relics, stuffed animals and a dining room with wooding decking shaping it into the hull of a galleon. the till looked older than any coin and the landlord struggled for change despite the fact we were able to pull some out of the wall fairly easily. Fortunately the door was kept unlocked and as we got scared and hungrier we decided to leave in search of a fish and chip shop.
the night proved interesting and quiet as the kayakers had been misbehaving and had had a telling off, shouldn't try to look into the ladies should you! so is that quiet when in trouble?? or Perves when p*ssed??.
Yet again the Hiking club was up drinking whilst the kayakers went to bed.
Sunday started with the kayakers air horning any tent which wasn't awake and some of our members were made to suffer, however the suppost of the kayakers was called upon when 2 hikers still failed to get up, after being air horned in the tent water pistols were called up to bolster the arsenal of tools at our disposal, amazing how quickly people get up when they thing they're going to get wet Awake when going to get wet??
After our fry up we commandeered Otto and drove of to Rock to catch the ferry, the idea of doing any proper sailing rapidly vanishing. So it was across the river for a Sunday Roast, followed by a very entertaining game of crazy golf. After sampling the local pasties and icecreams we returned to the other side and sampled the local pub (A pint of Red Admiral is certainly well worth a try). An evertual return to the site led to a coastal walk in the dark, though it wasnt a wise idea considering what we'd been doing for the rest of the day.
Monday, the final chance for some serious walking, so what better than a Brown Willy? We travelled out to Bodmin Moor in search of the beast and climbed the highest 'hill' we could find. Unfortunately our route to the pub was blocked by private property and so we spent most the day lazing in the sun on the highest point in Cornwall. So if we couldnt walk to the pub we had to drive instead, a twisty journey led us to the Jaimaica Inn and a range of food, cream scones, beer and Mead! A Snack there and left over BBQ back on the site, all we seemed to do was eat. The last night led to entertainment and an prize ceremony for any of the events of the weekend.
Tuesday eventually led to a return journey to Nottingham (to the relief of all in Polzeath) and that was Sticky When Wet.