Wednesday evening saw a number of ringers converge on The Angel pub in Halesworth. Pizzas and pasta were enjoyed in the al fresco Italian restaurant, along with numerous pints of Adnams Bitter. By the end of the evening, numbers had swollen to around fifteen. These hardy souls not only braved the increasingly chilly temperatures, but also the noise generated by countless boy racers who roared up and down the road in their clapped-out Vauxhall Novas. A short walk back to the hall followed where tea and whisky were taken and floorspace was claimed. A bit of impromptu maintenance on bikes was witnessed, then everyone retired to bed. I must remember to bring ear plugs on the next tour.
Thursday morning dawned and breakfast was cooked by Martyn and Andy. Whilst the smell of bacon wafted around, there was also the smell of eager anticipation from the motley crew of would-be cyclists. Some individuals' attire left nothing to the imagination. And so the cyclists set off, looking rather like a Spandau Ballet tribute band given the amount of spandex on show. The ride was an undulating - this being the choice phrase for describing the whole week's landscape - five mile ride to the first tower. Upon their arrival, sweating and panting, ringing commenced in the five-bell tower at Heveningham. I think we rang doubles methods which included Plain Bob, St. Martin's and Winchendon Place. Onto Wilby, an eight, where methods ranged from Stedman to 5-spliced Major, with varying degrees of success. Despite the prospect of ringing at the only ten of the tour after lunch, this did not hinder the beer consumption at lunch. The heat of the sun was quite strong by this point, and shade was sought by some in the beer garden armed with their baguette and beer. The ringing after lunch proved to be quite tricky as the bells were quite difficult to hear. We crashed through some Bob Royal and quickly reaslised that Cambridge Royal was not an option. The final tower of the day was Huntingfield where more doubles methods were rung. What followed for most was a ride back to the hall with The Plough at Wissett proving an excellent venue for a pit-stop en route. Once back in Halesworth, various takeaway establishments were plundered and then Deuchars IPA was drunk in The White Swan. Apparently they do very good ale pies.
Friday was even hotter than the previous day and there were mutionous groans from the cyclists whose bottoms were beginning to find saddles increasingly uncomfortable. Still, grit and determination (not to mention a lie-down in a corn field) got the peleton to Metfield, where a refurbished six provided the raw materials for some good ringing. This was also undoubtedly achieved thanks to the little lady whose generosity with orange squash, biscuits and water was ever so slightly scary. At Redenhall we rang various methods which included Yorkshire and Plain and Little Bob Major spliced. Malcolm showed how he can remove his shorts whilst ringing. St. Peter's brewery was the logical place for lunch, being a fifteen minute cycle away. So two parties set off - one taking a sensible route; the other taking a different one. I assume the second group's was off-road and longer as they arrived half an hour after everyone else. This did have an advantage in that most of the brews had already been sampled. Thus they were able to purchase the nicest ones without having to go through the turmoil of sampling each one like everyone else had done. Orders were placed to purchase carry-outs as a group, with Helen looking after the administration. By this point, any cars which possessed spaces on their cycle racks were seized by cyclists who were too weary to progress on two wheels. The remaining two towers were at South Elmham and were therefore not too far from each other. I assume more doubles were rung at these two places too. Once back at Halesworth, a quick dip in the pool was followed by a Chinese take out from Hong Kong (that was the place's name). Then we retired to the pub (can't remember which one). Gail's mum's cake was very nice.
Saturday was the last full day of cycling. We rang at two sixes which I can't remember. For lunch we went to a pub in Bramfield. Once the organisation of the striking competition was completed, the preparations for this event began in earnest, with many pints of Broadside being consumed. This was all immediately followed by a few halves of Real Cider which combined with the beer to make a rather lethal Snakebite. We thus were ready to depart for the church. Percy's Theorem helped to determine the results. This dictates that the number of faults made were directly proportional to the number of alcohol units consumed. The alcohol certainly helped me to judge the competition. I found that shutting my eyes and nodding sagely until the ringing stopped, and then making up a number for the number of faults worked quite well. Luckily, my 'decisions' matched with Paul's (I don't know how that happened.) The exertion of the competition was obviously too much for some: one person who shall remain nameless tested out his pain tolerance by falling off twice within 100 metres. Thankfully George and Paul in a support car were on hand to transport his battered body and bike to the final tower at Yoxford, from whence he disappeared. The last tower was run by Gail who kindly stepped in after Alison forgot to run it herself. Once back at the hall, rumours of the drunkard dozing in hedges and being generally unconscious were confirmed by a visiting policeman. Whilst the BBQ was being lit, a quick pint or two was drunk, and then everyone returned to the hall for dinner which was very nice. An informal meeting was held and the next Summer Tour details were decided upon. It will be a cycling tour in Taunton from the 27th-31st July 2005. The winners of the striking competition were announced, and Martin's team was the proud recipient of Percy's wife and a few rather large tubes of Smarties.We then adjourned to the pub to have a few last pints before everyone retired to bed.
Sunday morning was a rather lazy affair due to there not being any ringing. Once the hall was cleared, everyone dispersed and went their own ways home.
Thanks to Gail for organising the tour and to the Catering Officers for getting up early every morning.
- Ross Hartley
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
||||