10 green hash canoes floating on the Wye.
10 green hash canoes floating on the Wye…
With the Gases running late, we all compared our Viking-themed clothing – mostly just hats, axes, shields and swords, but we looked pretty fearsome I can tell you.
 I'm a Viking |
 I'm an 'orse, man |
Finger Flasher was Faffmeister General as he arranged the cars to be filled with tents and camping gear ready for taking to the campsite. It seems that everybody except himself and Barbie Doll had ignored his request to travel light. Pillows, camp chairs, deck chairs, tables and a birthday cake were among the things that might have been left back home, but weren’t.
We got out onto the water a little later than anticipated, but there were soon plenty of rapids to waken us up. Did I say “rapids”? The rapids could more accurately be described as torpids, I think. We were in far more danger of grounding on the riverbed than capsizing! In fact, the riverbank was far more perilous – as the Gases found out. Having been briefed at the start that if the boat starts to tip one way, you should lean the other to try to avoid capsizing, the Gases didn’t seem to move at all and the inert Gases toppled into the water. To be fair, Mrs Gas did consider leaning in towards the bank as instructed but didn’t fancy a tree trunk smacking her in the face for her troubles, so the water was the only way to go. Mind you, as it was raining anyway, they didn’t get much wetter than they already were.
10 green hash canoes started on the Wye,
10 green hash canoes started on the Wye,
But then Wee Joker had to go and wreck her neck.
There’ll be 9 green hash canoes floating on the Wye.
Hardcore emerged from her tent with a horned head and furry shoulders . Not, as it turned out, how she looks before she showers, shaves and puts on her make-up, but her Viking costume for the day.
Partly because it was Full Term’s birthday, but mostly because the sun was finally out, we broke open the cava at the first bend. And that was followed by yet another treacherous piece of riverbank where a drunken tree leapt out in front of the sober FBJ and La Crease and overturned them. A minor drama turned into a crisis when we couldn’t find their beer nor La Crease’s helmet that also fell out, but at least today the sun could dry us out.
On on to a narrow gap under a tree that Shagger and Mummy’s Boy decided to take sideways, causing everyone else to pile up and crash into them. Whisper hopped across the boats and cadged a lift in the canoe of Wrist Action and Mouthful, but after a later stretch of rapids/torpid/shallows, they came a bit too close to the bank and Whisper leapt out and ran off to find a stick. Wrist Action exercised all of her authority, running up and down the beach while Whisper ignored her. Eventually she (Whisper, that is) managed to follow the sound of Pyro’s whistling and get back aboard and we were back on our way.
On on to the campsite, but not the campsite that we passed that had the showers and toilets, oh no. Our campsite was a 100 metres further on with a standpipe and 2 portaloos. However, the lack of facilities was made up for by the fact that we could make up a camp fire! “Woohoo!” cheered the harriettes!
After Full Term’s birthday cake and champagne, we set off for our evening meal. The pub was quite a bit further away than anyone had realised and it was a cosy little place, full of candles to create that cosy atmosphere. Or was that because they had a powercut? Despite the lack of electricity, they were still serving food. The chef was cooking on gas as we were served with roast chickens (for meat eaters) and chilli (for the veggies) and huuuuge amounts of vegetables. A marvellous, never-ending feast, it was.
Back to the campsite and a load of drunks building the camp fire! Hotshot’s military survival training came to the fore as he got the fire going. Blowing on the lit kindling is a good way of starting things, but cider-fuelled Finger Flasher’s breath was enough to set the fire roaring! It’s a good job that the wind didn’t blow the flames towards him – he’d have gone up like a Molotov Cocktail.
9 green hash canoes started on the Wye,
9 green hash canoes started on the Wye,
But then Big Stiffy had to go and knack his back.
There’ll be 8 green hash canoes floating on the Wye.
Why were the tent-carrying cars taking so long this morning? We filled in time with a game of I Spy. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with W.” “Wye?” “No, W.”
There were far less landing places today and the first opportunity to have a wee break was opposite a stately home and the riverside path there provided a perfect viewing gallery for the visitors to watch Shitstix having a pee up against the wall. And we saw loads of wildlife today: swans and cygnets, geese and goslings, ducks and ducklings, herons, jumping fish, crows chasing off a buzzard, and not forgetting the water ‘otter at breakfast.
And then it was suddenly over. About an hour earlier than expected, we came into Hereford and our finish point. It was good timing in that it was just about the right time to finish, but a pity that we had to end at all.
8 green hash canoes started on the Wye,
8 green hash canoes started on the Wye,
But all too soon, we reached the landing beach.
There’ll be no green hash canoes floating on the Wye.
[Pause to wipe a tear from my eye. ]
No green hash canoes starting on the Wye,
No green hash canoes starting on the Wye,
But have no fear, we’ll be back another year
And there’ll be 10 more hash canoes floating down the Wye.
 Tintin |
 Shagger |
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