Friday: Richard picked me up at 10:00 and we had a very uneventful journey to the Channel View camp and caravan park near Lynton through some very pretty countryside. We arrived about 13:30, pitched our tents and joined John and Beryl at their mobile home. At this point Ken pitched up having parked his Vauxwagon camper van. After a very welcome cup of tea and piece of ginger cake John broke out some bottles of Marston’s Fever Pitch. A very nice hoppy, light and refreshing beer. The sun was shining and it was very warm so John’s supply of Fever Pitch was quickly exhausted. That was when Martin turned up with some cans of Bass. Bless you Martin. After putting the world to rights and talking a load of bullocks Jim arrived. Fortunately there was just one can of Bass left so Jim had that. With the beer running short it was decided to repair to Lynmouth and the Rising Sun. Here we drank Exmoor Ale. On a Friday the local workforce gathers at the Rising Sun, to celebrate the end of the working week and the start of the weekend. Although not an unusual practice it apparently involves the wall just outside the pub and someone falling over backwards. This was demonstrated very ably by a young local workman. See photo on the left. Whom I swear managed to save his beer and not spill a drop. Although there is such a thing as a false memory syndrome I know what I saw.
Fortunately the young lad was unhurt and literally bounced back up. A little later we travelled back to the camp site and into the adjoining Beggars Roost where we enjoyed some more Exmoor Ale and a really delicious Gammon Steak with chips and trimmings. A fairly early night for the others turned out to be a very busy and interesting one for me. When I got back to my tent I found that I had a message on my secret horsehair and cardboard radio. There was a very important mission that the group was to undertake and complete. There was no room for error. The mission was simply too important to contemplate any sort of failure. My mission was to lead the others on a yomp through the countryside, drink lots of beer and so save local pubs from closure. I eagerly set to work. This would require the most meticulous planning and spot on timing. I poured over my maps, drizzled a little over my notes and later rained over my compass. Even when the wind took on near hurricane speeds and my tent collapsed around my ears I barely noticed. I worked feverishly through the night. It was vital that the local pubs remain open. Sleep was not important. I could catch up with some by cat napping on the following morning’s yomp.
Saturday: After the near disaster of my tent collapsing and Richard and Jim wondering around my tent shaking their heads and tutting in a most professional manner. Jim hatched plan B which involved moving my tent to a more sheltered spot and hopefully preventing further collapse should the weather prove inclement throughout the rest of our stay. Richard seemed very happy with this. He had accused me on previous occasions of snoring and keeping him awake. A very unlikely occurrence in my opinion. After re-pitching my tent and partaking of a hearty breakfast in the camp site cafe I gathered the chaps and chappess and explained our mission. They were all very keen and raring to go as I knew they would be. The group consisted of Ken, Richard, John, Beryl, Jim, Martin and me, Allan. Plus Martin's two dogs, Honey and Lizzy. We were a small group but what we lacked in numbers we made up in shear passion to save as many pubs as we could. We set off in Martin’s Shogun and headed for County Gate. This would be our headquarters and return point. Crossing the road we set off at a good pace towards Porlock Weir. The sign posts along the track were very confusing. Giving distances that we knew must be wrong and often contradicting the previous sign post. Anyway, after five, six, seven, eight, nine or ten miles at a steady yomp we arrived at the Ship Inn also known as the Bottom Ship Inn in Porlock Weir. The Top Ship Inn being in Porlock itself. As we arrived it began to rain so we went inside the Inn and enjoyed several pints of Exmoor Ale. Ever mindful of our mission it was vital that we caught the last bus from Porlock to County Gate. No one seemed to know the times of the last bus so I ran to Porlock and checked out the timetable. I ran back to the Ship Inn and rallied the troops. If we walked to Porlock while the rain was still quite light we would have time to save a couple of more pubs and still be able to catch the last bus. A vital element of the mission. Bravely leading the way we walked at a good pace to the Castle Hotel in Porlock. After a couple of pints of Doombar we again struck out. This time just a few hundred yards to the Royal Oak. Here we started on the Exmoor Ale but the barrel ran dry and the replacement was not quick right so we had to go on to Gem. It was then that a very peculiar event happened. Jim's full pint of Gem slid off the table and landed on the floor. Jim was mortified. Due to the carpet the glass was saved but the beer was lost forever. After the floor was cleaned up by a very helpful barmaid several theories were put forward as to why this unfortunate thing should happen. The Sir Isaac Newton theory was expounded. If he hadn't invented gravity then Jim's beer would not have been wasted. There were many other theories put forward. One involved poltergiests and dead parents. However, one absurd theory was voiced. Normally it would not find space in this blog but it is rather funny so I have included it. It goes like this. The table upon which the glass of Gem sat was on a slight slope due to an uneveness in the floor. The bottom of the beer glass was wet. This meant that there was very little friction to stop the glass moving. A passing motor vehicle or a person walking past the table depressed the floorboard a little. Thus allowing the glass of Gem to slide to the edge of the table and so onto the floor. See what I mean. Absurd but funny. I personally think that the Sir Isaac Newton theory is the only one that can explain this freak accident. The quicker gravity is un-invented the better and the less likely beer will be spilt.
The time to catch the bus and return to County Gate headquarters was upon us. Piling onto the top deck of the open top bus we were confronted with a sea of grey hair. We soon struck up a conversation with a nice couple and a common interest in motorbikes was found. Arriving at County Gate we climbed into the Shogun and Beryl drove us back to Lynmouth and the Rising Sun. Bless you Beryl! A few pints of Exmoor Ale and then we returned to the campsite and the Beggars Roost. An evening meal of Beef and Ale pie went down very well. I left the Beggars Roost early to allow the youngsters to let their hair down without me peering over their shoulders. Lying down on the grass looking at the stars in the clear Devon air I soon located Sirius the Dog Star. This star is believed by the Dogons to be the home of all ancient knowledge. Although a primitive culture, it seems that visitors from Sirius contacted them eons ago with the very mysteries of the universe. The information that the Dogons have still remains intact after all these years, untouched and not influenced by outside cultures. Thinking about this it occurred to me that perhaps we should visit Sirius and put these myths to rest once and for. I then realised that it was quite possible to make this journey quickly and cheaply. Rockets would not be needed. I scratched my head why hadn’t the scientists discovered this years ago, it was patently obvious. I reached for my phone to spread the good news. No signal! Damn! It would have to wait until I returned to Bristol. I hit my pillow and was quickly transported into a dream world of ancient tribes, aliens and star journeys. Until about 2:00 when I was awoken by the high winds and pouring rain. Once again a night with very little sleep but the tent held. I had also forgotten how to get to Sirius. Oh well! perhaps a few more pints of Exmoor Ale would help to rekindle the memory.
Sunday: Another hearty breakfast in the camp site cafe set us up for the day followed by a quick walk into Lynton. It was raining quite heavy by the time we arrived so we retreated to a cafe for a cup of coffee. About 11:00 we decided that the rain had subsided enough to allow a short walk without getting too wet. We went up through the Valley of Rocks picked up the coastal path and strolled back into Lynton. Strangely it was beer time (this time travel business makes my head hurt) so we visited the Crown Hotel where we found that it was under new ownership. Tribute was the ale of choice along with Bass for John and Jim. The Tribute was absolutely cracking. The service here was superb. Although the pint glasses were not quite full our round of Tribute came with an extra small glass so that our glasses could be topped up as the head settled. Thank goodness for a landlord who serves a full pint without having to be asked for a ‘top-up’. I hope this practice continues and spreads throughout the land. On then to Lynmouth to the Rising Sun (yes the same one, again! Surely you could see that one coming) for more Exmore Ale. Then round the corner to Esplanade Fish Bar for our annual and now traditional fish and chips on the beach. We didn’t quite make the beach due to the weather but we sat on the wall opposite the Fish Bar and scoffed away. This place serves the best fish and chips for miles. Well worth a visit if you are in that part of the country. Back to the Rising Sun (I bet you are getting the hang of it now) for a few more beers. Returning to the camp site I decided to get a couple of hours shut eye before going to the Beggars Roost for one last time. However, I didn’t wake up until after 10:30 much too late for me. So I turned over and had a good nights kip trying to make up for two nights with very little sleep.
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| X MARKS THE SPOT |
Saturday: After the near disaster of my tent collapsing and Richard and Jim wondering around my tent shaking their heads and tutting in a most professional manner. Jim hatched plan B which involved moving my tent to a more sheltered spot and hopefully preventing further collapse should the weather prove inclement throughout the rest of our stay. Richard seemed very happy with this. He had accused me on previous occasions of snoring and keeping him awake. A very unlikely occurrence in my opinion. After re-pitching my tent and partaking of a hearty breakfast in the camp site cafe I gathered the chaps and chappess and explained our mission. They were all very keen and raring to go as I knew they would be. The group consisted of Ken, Richard, John, Beryl, Jim, Martin and me, Allan. Plus Martin's two dogs, Honey and Lizzy. We were a small group but what we lacked in numbers we made up in shear passion to save as many pubs as we could. We set off in Martin’s Shogun and headed for County Gate. This would be our headquarters and return point. Crossing the road we set off at a good pace towards Porlock Weir. The sign posts along the track were very confusing. Giving distances that we knew must be wrong and often contradicting the previous sign post. Anyway, after five, six, seven, eight, nine or ten miles at a steady yomp we arrived at the Ship Inn also known as the Bottom Ship Inn in Porlock Weir. The Top Ship Inn being in Porlock itself. As we arrived it began to rain so we went inside the Inn and enjoyed several pints of Exmoor Ale. Ever mindful of our mission it was vital that we caught the last bus from Porlock to County Gate. No one seemed to know the times of the last bus so I ran to Porlock and checked out the timetable. I ran back to the Ship Inn and rallied the troops. If we walked to Porlock while the rain was still quite light we would have time to save a couple of more pubs and still be able to catch the last bus. A vital element of the mission. Bravely leading the way we walked at a good pace to the Castle Hotel in Porlock. After a couple of pints of Doombar we again struck out. This time just a few hundred yards to the Royal Oak. Here we started on the Exmoor Ale but the barrel ran dry and the replacement was not quick right so we had to go on to Gem. It was then that a very peculiar event happened. Jim's full pint of Gem slid off the table and landed on the floor. Jim was mortified. Due to the carpet the glass was saved but the beer was lost forever. After the floor was cleaned up by a very helpful barmaid several theories were put forward as to why this unfortunate thing should happen. The Sir Isaac Newton theory was expounded. If he hadn't invented gravity then Jim's beer would not have been wasted. There were many other theories put forward. One involved poltergiests and dead parents. However, one absurd theory was voiced. Normally it would not find space in this blog but it is rather funny so I have included it. It goes like this. The table upon which the glass of Gem sat was on a slight slope due to an uneveness in the floor. The bottom of the beer glass was wet. This meant that there was very little friction to stop the glass moving. A passing motor vehicle or a person walking past the table depressed the floorboard a little. Thus allowing the glass of Gem to slide to the edge of the table and so onto the floor. See what I mean. Absurd but funny. I personally think that the Sir Isaac Newton theory is the only one that can explain this freak accident. The quicker gravity is un-invented the better and the less likely beer will be spilt.
The time to catch the bus and return to County Gate headquarters was upon us. Piling onto the top deck of the open top bus we were confronted with a sea of grey hair. We soon struck up a conversation with a nice couple and a common interest in motorbikes was found. Arriving at County Gate we climbed into the Shogun and Beryl drove us back to Lynmouth and the Rising Sun. Bless you Beryl! A few pints of Exmoor Ale and then we returned to the campsite and the Beggars Roost. An evening meal of Beef and Ale pie went down very well. I left the Beggars Roost early to allow the youngsters to let their hair down without me peering over their shoulders. Lying down on the grass looking at the stars in the clear Devon air I soon located Sirius the Dog Star. This star is believed by the Dogons to be the home of all ancient knowledge. Although a primitive culture, it seems that visitors from Sirius contacted them eons ago with the very mysteries of the universe. The information that the Dogons have still remains intact after all these years, untouched and not influenced by outside cultures. Thinking about this it occurred to me that perhaps we should visit Sirius and put these myths to rest once and for. I then realised that it was quite possible to make this journey quickly and cheaply. Rockets would not be needed. I scratched my head why hadn’t the scientists discovered this years ago, it was patently obvious. I reached for my phone to spread the good news. No signal! Damn! It would have to wait until I returned to Bristol. I hit my pillow and was quickly transported into a dream world of ancient tribes, aliens and star journeys. Until about 2:00 when I was awoken by the high winds and pouring rain. Once again a night with very little sleep but the tent held. I had also forgotten how to get to Sirius. Oh well! perhaps a few more pints of Exmoor Ale would help to rekindle the memory.
Sunday: Another hearty breakfast in the camp site cafe set us up for the day followed by a quick walk into Lynton. It was raining quite heavy by the time we arrived so we retreated to a cafe for a cup of coffee. About 11:00 we decided that the rain had subsided enough to allow a short walk without getting too wet. We went up through the Valley of Rocks picked up the coastal path and strolled back into Lynton. Strangely it was beer time (this time travel business makes my head hurt) so we visited the Crown Hotel where we found that it was under new ownership. Tribute was the ale of choice along with Bass for John and Jim. The Tribute was absolutely cracking. The service here was superb. Although the pint glasses were not quite full our round of Tribute came with an extra small glass so that our glasses could be topped up as the head settled. Thank goodness for a landlord who serves a full pint without having to be asked for a ‘top-up’. I hope this practice continues and spreads throughout the land. On then to Lynmouth to the Rising Sun (yes the same one, again! Surely you could see that one coming) for more Exmore Ale. Then round the corner to Esplanade Fish Bar for our annual and now traditional fish and chips on the beach. We didn’t quite make the beach due to the weather but we sat on the wall opposite the Fish Bar and scoffed away. This place serves the best fish and chips for miles. Well worth a visit if you are in that part of the country. Back to the Rising Sun (I bet you are getting the hang of it now) for a few more beers. Returning to the camp site I decided to get a couple of hours shut eye before going to the Beggars Roost for one last time. However, I didn’t wake up until after 10:30 much too late for me. So I turned over and had a good nights kip trying to make up for two nights with very little sleep.
Monday: Got up quite early at 7:00 and packed up the tents and went to (no not the Rising Sun) the camp site cafe for yet another hearty breakfast. Settled our camping fees with Sally and set off for Bristol. A really good but very tiring weekend despite the weather. Looking forward to next year.
With thanks to the following:
Richard for giving me a lift and helping to sort out my tent.
Jim for coming up with plan B and helping with my tent.
John for supplying much needed beer at the right time
Martin for supplying much needed beer at the right time and showing us around the various walks and driving us around
Beryl for driving us to and from pubs on quite a few occassions
Sally for sorting out our camping pitches and being really nice
Ken for being there and helping me pitch my tent on Friday
Honey and Lizzy for being such good dogs and giving us such a laugh on the walks
With thanks to the following:
Richard for giving me a lift and helping to sort out my tent.
Jim for coming up with plan B and helping with my tent.
Martin for supplying much needed beer at the right time and showing us around the various walks and driving us around
Beryl for driving us to and from pubs on quite a few occassions
Sally for sorting out our camping pitches and being really nice
Ken for being there and helping me pitch my tent on Friday
history est perscribo per vir per calamus
Thank you Allan for this historical record of a fun weekend. I missed a few bits of it somehow. I would like to correct your latin but as I had to drop latin having got -5 out of 100 for getting it all wrong and also cheating to achieve this I cant. In fact I have no idea what it means but presumably something to do with beer, dogs and prescriptions.
ReplyDeleteThe Latin is susposed to translate as History if written by he who has the pen
ReplyDeleteSlight correction 'History is written by he who has the pen'
ReplyDelete