It's that time of year again when the women gather to do womanly things and men try and keep out of the way (it's far safer that way). Baskerville Hall this time near Hay on Wye in Wales, and yes the "Hound of the ..". is based on the Hall but AC Doyle moved the location in the book to confuse tourists.
Looking across the Rye valley to the twisty bits.
Yeah, OK, it's pretty as well I suppose.
Lindsey and I meet up with Lynn, Derek and Sarah for the ride down; through the Dales we go, onto a bit of M6 then to the A49 in North Wales. Great fun all the way excepting the M6 (which is always shite) and the amount of traffic on the A49 which spoiled an otherwise wonderful road, blessed as it is with pretty villages, sweeping bends and stunning scenery.
Due to a plethora of coffee stops it's well past tea time by the time we reach the Hall. Not bad timing in retrospect as it gives us time to get the tents up and then straight to the bar for a full on session.
Welcome to Baskerville Hall.
ACD changed the location in the book to keep tourists away then some bugger puts
up a bloody great sign, kinda gives the game away don't it!
I'm afflicted with a virus, I hope I can shake it off before it spoils the weekend. And so armed with my camera, a bottle of pop and a cheesie pasty I set forth to explore and recover before taking my stint in the control booth.
Back on site feeling a little more human I join the lads in the box as the girls waddle off for the now infamous WIMA AGM. We are not expecting good things to come of it - like an early finish. The peace and quite of the box is soon broken and Phil and Simon get started on the pros and cons of the Iraq pushing and shoving session.
At the surprisingly early time of mid afternoon (not that I'm complaining) the AGM finishes. It's warm and sunny so it's time for a ride.
Liz doing what Liz does best. If anyone is interested (or sad enough) there is a movie version of this which was voted second most tedious film at the recent Beercans Film Awards.
Only Lindsey and Sarah show willing so off we go on a mystery tour. I'm not at all sure where we went but the highpoints where; a set of superb uphill twisties, a maze of single track back lanes (well I enjoyed them), a barking B road and then the Boat Inn which I can recommend for good food including some ace veggie options. After stuffing ourselves to the limits it's back onto the bikes for a mad, mad thrash back to Baskerville Hall. As we pull into the grounds Sarah howls past and up the road into the sunshine for a final evening blast, ahh the joys and boundless energy of youth.
I really, really try not to get drunk... and fail miserably. The band are good and lively, if not particularly original, doing loads of R&B numbers that soon has everybody up for a boogie - even my good self! I have a good gibber with people who most likely deserve better, take some photies of people who wish I wouldn't and eventually stumble off to my bed.
Today Lindsey has the virus, I'm suffering only the mildest of symptoms. The easy option is taken and we take a walk into Hay on Wye with Neil and Jane who have returned from a self imposed exile.
Upon our return we consider the option of a ride but Lindsey is still suffering and goes off for an afternoon nap. Later as the girls head off to the restaurant for food I go for a wander about with my camera. It's another of those incredible evenings flooded with that golden light that sends photographers giddy.
Later I meet up with the well fed and unthirsted ones in the bar to see what entertainment we have in store...
Them thar is womens bikes.
There is a band, although I use the term in it's loosest possible sense. How can I best describe them without using the term "utter shite"? I guess they consider themselves to be a comedy club band, although I can imagine a trail of club secretaries up and down the land receiving death threats after booking them. And just when we thought it couldn't get any worse they started on some old Beatles numbers, the kind of songs that normally get everyone dancing. But no this bunch managed to make these songs seem so insipid we could imagine John and George turning in their respective graves.
Lizzie is the first to crack and scuttles across the floor, claws desperately at the fire escape them breaks out. It soon turns to a flood as people stagger out all with the same shellshocked expression.
The band drove some to tears
And the band played on...
Then it was the prizes; Neil - shiniest head, Sarah - most likely to get 3 points, Liz - best rat, followed by raffle time. The usual problem of more prizes than people, until Jan got sick of reading out the numbers and declared the disco back on.
We all go home.
Well it's been a right good do, so congrats to the organisers on a job well done and a special vote of thanks to the local constabulary for not busting anyone this time.
And now for some humiliating photographs
The Hall itself
Granny Sue. Captured for ever the precise moment when somebody reached for
Granny's vodka. Note the striking hand, teeth bared and snarling and the eyes, a
most fetching shade of red.
There is also an award winning movie available of Granny talking. It took
first prize at the Beercans Film Award.
Big Bad and VERY SCARY Bev trying to look sober.
Anyone remember The Bill?
Super paintjob award for the coolest looking bike. Note the Pig Baiting headlight cover.
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
Neil about to dribble ...
Hay on Wye. just to prove we went there.
The band are on inside.
Some suffered severe psychosis after watching the band for too long.
Sarah, delighted with her award for the Pig Baiting.