Autumn Tour 2002 - The Forest of Dean, 25-27th October
We arrived in Drybrook in the sheeting rain. Even after completing 11 laps of the 'highstreet' and enlisting the help of some knowledgable young locals, we were still having trouble trying to spot the mammoth carpark, which we had been reliably informed would quite happily accommodate 100+ cars. After what seemed like an eternity, we eventually spotted a dark, muddy patch of sodden grass. The lure of beer was too much by this point to worry if this was the right place, so we quickly parked and set off in search of the pub. We walked up a steep hill in the lashing rain for ages. Just when thoughts were turning towards wandering the roads all night in vain and never finding the inn, it loomed out of nowhere. Success! I now appreciate how the travellers of old felt when they eventually found somewhere to rest for the night. Somehow we had managed to get to the pub before closing (just for a change). It was extremely pleasant to collapse in the warm pub's comfy armchairs with beer(s) whilst waiting for everyone else to arrive. People turned up in ever-increasing numbers until most of the usual suspects were gathered, as well as some new faces. The main topic of conversation was about how long it took to find the hall and get parked, but it was not long before the level of chatting dropped to gutter-level as normal, and order was finally restored.
Now things start getting a little hazy, so please bear with me. Awoken the next morning by the smell of sausage and egg sarnies, senses were some-what roused, but balance and dexterity certainly weren't. Perhaps this is directly linked to the lock-in on the previous night. Once the curtains had been drawn, we soon found that the landlady wasn't serving beer, so, slightly grudgingly, we moved onto 10 year-old malt whiskey and other shorts instead.
Having left the hall in fragmented groups, we travelled to the designated morning towers, and did some ringing - fuelled with a potent Ibuprofen/caffeine drug cocktail - at Ruardean and Awre. Newnham-on-Severn was a lock-out, even though we actually got inside - a contradiction in terms?
Then to lunch, in a nice pub in Awre where we were first bombarded by Kit and Percy's beaurocracy, and then second, livers were bombarded with more alcohol.
Now things start getting extremely hazy, so please don't bear with me, because it's probably all wrong. Lydney was the final tower of the day (5-to-3, Penny), and Monmouth was n.t.b.c., so that was that. I think this must be the first tour I have been on where we spent more time in the pub during the day than in the towers. It has been duly noted.
Whilst we waited for the catering team to swing into action, and before the meeting at 6.30, a few more beers were downed in The Boat Inn in Redbrook. The meeting followed the pub, and it showed. Thankfully, at least two-thirds of the committee present were sober enough to ensure a relatively smooth running. With the help of Penny and Kit, and without the help of Percy, things eventually got sorted. There were successful elections of new members and confirmation of the next Autumn Tour date/location: 24th - 26th October. It was finally agreed that it should be held in Leicestershire, due to its "centrality".
Once an excellent hearty tea had been consumed, it was back to the pub for more drinking etc.etc. Another lock-in followed, with yet more imbibing. I can't really remember anything of any significance happening. Perhaps something did. Who knows? Percy got friendly with a cat. A local talked quite persuasively (and for some length) about the influx of young Antipodean women into the Gloucestershire area, and their consequential demographic impacts. I think he was drunk.
I don't know what time everyone left, but it was raining and cold, and the hall was dark.
A few keen souls managed to rise at some unholy hour to go ringing, whilst the majority of people made use of the clocks going back by having another hours' unconsciousness. Woken by flying pumpkin chocolates and breakfast, the hall was cleared up, and people gradually departed.
Thanks to Percy for organising the Tour, and everyone else who helped in one way or another. On to Cambridgeshire in a month!
- Ross Hartley
P.S. This wasn't actually the end of the Tour for some. Due to the nasty weather, some people's journey wasn't as straight-forward as it might have been. Rhiannon got stuck in Southampton, whilst myself, James and Diane were forced to B&B in Shrewsbury. Still, it wasn't all bad - a good excuse for not going to 9am lectures the next day. Like you need an excuse
