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October 08, 2008

Good Morning Campers....

...is the cheerful refrain that would have greeted us of a morning had we been staying at Maplins. As Hamp-Fest was held at Roundhill campsite in the new forest we had to make do with the "Bzzzzzzzzzzip" of tent doors opening and the tinny hubbub of Quasars tranny radio that he'd "accidentally" left switched on and blaring out the world service all night (on the plus side, and quite aptly, ColinM is now quite the expert on the price of gold).

The turn out to this inaugral event was great. Even MrWiki put in an appearence, although his failure to stop at the campsite gate and pay his "day visitor" fee in one fell swoop ruined the reputation of Seloc amongst the New Forest Campsite Shutzstaffel. The campsite Kommandant made her feelings abundently clear on the matter, pretty much to anyone who would listen and even to those who patently didn't care.

Friday evening saw most people arrive (the wombles and their non lotus owning friends, the colins, the fleetelises, quasar and special guests the Wikis) and after pitching the tents, a couple of pleasant hours were spent chewing the fat (both literally and metaphorically) around the BBQ, before we received a visit from the friendly local fire warden. Thankfully we were burning coal and not wood, else there would have been much trouble.

Such a clear night was perfect for Quasar to educate the rest of us about the stars above us. We spent some time contemplating the vastness of space, and how the human race pales into insignificance when viewed on the stellar length scale - then we snapped out of it and got on with the job in hand - getting pissed! People may claim that I was "merry" enough to fall off my chair, but the simple fact of the matter is that I'm a biffa. Time for a diet perhaps? Or maybe I'll just treat myself to a reinforced chair for next year.

Saturday's weather was fine, and it saw RoCo head off on bicycle ride, fleetelise +1 went to Bournemouth and happened across a Harley meet, whilst the others mooched around the campsite. The young boys in attendance spent much of their time wittling tools with which to hatch their escape.

As is the custom at gatherings the non-lotuse fared the worst. ColinMs Saab decided to flatten it's battery overnight due to a faulty boot switch. Luckily, Quasars very ill sounding and smokey Saab came to the rescue.

A local horse decided to pay a visit to RoCo's tent, although claims that it mistook the sounds of Colins snoring for it's distressed young are as yet unconfirmed. Either way, the beast had a point to prove and returned to camp in the middle of the night in order to trample Colin's BBQ.

Saturday evening saw more people arrive - the Brodys and their enormous mansion of a tent, PaulO and his bag-pipes, and Quasars friends (whose names I never even found out to my shame!), Shelltop put in an appearance and her lack of camping experience didn't show through at all! More barbeque action ensued, with much BBQ envy criss-crossing between ColinM and fatwomble, attempts at sabotage were made but colin couldn't maintain a healthy enough stream to truly dampen wombles coals. After an unpromising start fatwombles square BBQ managed to beat ColinM with some of Colin's "knights of the round BBQ" defecting to the warmer of the two. Plenty of toasted marshmallows were enjoyed, although poor old womble stuck by his vegetarian principles and therefore missed out.

Sunday mornings peaceful contemplation of one-ness with nature was cruelly shattered by the sound of PaulO strangling his cat giving us a jaunty tune on the bag'o'pipes.

All in all a great weekend, so thanks to Womble for organising it, and kudos to those who braved the cold evenings.

Roll on next year, and Salty Balls.

One mystery remains - just why was wombles daughter dragging that stick around, and where was she going with it?

Posted by Mr Wiki at October 8, 2008 05:27 PM