Log In
Imperial College Canoe Club

Wales February 2004

Feat. Daft Welsh Pikeys

 << Previous <<>> Next >>

The usual suspects met at the stores on a dark, dry Friday night, ready to set off for the wilds of North Wales. The weekend started promisingly enough with Rob arriving only an hour and a half late to collect those travelling down in the car (due to a complicated arrangement involving boats and Rickmansworth). To add further confusion, the bus couldn't be parked outside the union due to military shenanigans at the Albert Hall. Eventually everyone set off with the car stopping to do the shopping on the way. Note: Nick does not approve of the lay-out of large 24-hour Tescos.

Insert from Ruth our intrepid bus correspondent:
Inspection on the way showed that the bottom of the gauge on the Conwy was now to be found 3 ft above the river, which did not bode well for the weekend's paddling. Everyone was feeling a little chilly when we got to the hut, so it was decided that a fire would be in order. It was established that the hut stove was of the Norwegian wood-burning variety (though I suspect that it has been resident in North Wales for so long that it has successfully applied for citizenship). Surprisingly, a fire fuelled by a few logs and 2 litres of cooking oil (not to mention a few dollops of margarine and several cups of sugar) failed to heat the hut. Unsurprisingly, the "what shall we paddle tomorrow" conversation only started at 3am and was never really resolved.

" ...Emily and Ella had not yet appeared. We figured that given the large amounts of firemen out practicing rescue manoeuvres, they were probably alright... "

Everybody had a lovely lie-in on the Saturday and while a heroic (not to mention patient, thanks to the super-slow hobs) few cooked breakfast, Rob and Nick went to check the water levels on the gorge in order to ascertain whether anything would be worth paddling. They arrived back with the bad news that we could possibly all walk down the gorge without getting our feet too wet. They also arrived back with the worse news that Rob had crashed the car. The official line on this one is that, after chomping through his 5 creme eggs and my one creme egg, our Rob was still feeling a mite peckish. So while driving down a very scenic Welsh road he decided to stop rolling his cigarette and reach behind the passenger seat to get a mini Eccles cake to munch on. Alerted only by Nick's "I say chap that's a stone wall you're driving into" (stone walls being a standard feature of narrow, scenic Welsh roads) he reacted in time to save the car but not the wing-mirror.

Putting Rob's little accident behind us, it was rather sensibly decided that, instead of driving around all day looking for water, we would go for a walk. Some of the boys, however, felt it wouldn't be a proper paddling weekend if they didn't drive around looking at dry river beds. So we waved goodbye to them and set off on our extreme hiking adventure. Despite many walkers being ridiculously equipped (Alice and Amie winning the prize for the daftest shoes) the weather was so lovely that it didn't really matter. After a little confusion about where we were (Nick was right) we ended up parking the bus next to the lovely Venereal (Vaynol) Arms in Nant Peris. Claire led us up Glyder Fawr, with everybody reaching the summit. It's still hard to believe that you can wander around in a t-shirt in February. The way back down proved to be a little more slippery and challenging, with Alice managing some spectacular extreme hiking moves (I still blame the shoes).

We all met up in Pete's Eats for pints of hot chocolate and yummy slices of cake. Most people wandered along for a quick pint in the heights, while a sub- group went on ahead to deal with the chilli and fire. The challenge was then for Alice to drive Rob's car for the first time down windy Welsh roads, without the aid of wing-mirror or dashboard lights. Thankfully all the Eccles cakes had been consumed so there were no more accidents. Back at the hut, Ruth and Ralph set about whipping up some lovely chilli. There had been some concerns that the chilli paste that had been bought in Tesco wouldn't be strong enough, as Theo had been spotted spreading it straight onto his bread. As it turned out the chilli paste was plenty strong, Theo just has superhuman powers. Rob then worryingly announced that he wanted "to play with the fire on (his) own for 10 minutes" and barricaded himself into the sitting-room, but did surprisingly produce a roaring fire.

Soon the others arrived back with the bad news that the bus had been broken into by the stupidest criminals ever. They broke in the passenger window and grabbed a few bags as well as Ruth's book on kidneys (but not Nick's book on fluid mechanics). They also decided to leave the cd player and the cds that were on the dashboard, but took a fancy to Zun's thermals, well they are nice thermals. There had been problems showing the police where the hut was on the map as that had been stolen too. Fortunately everyone had had their phones and wallets with them in the pub.

Muttering about stupid Welsh thieves, sorrows were promptly drowned in drink. The traditional circle of death was enhanced by Nick's international drinking rules; never use the word drink, no swearing or pointing (but elbows are ok), no proper names (Nick is still the only person I know who can use the word chap and mean it). There were also complicated rules about the hand you drink out of involving clocks. Rob and Sophie did us all proud and several excellent nicknames were created, including Osama Bin Lady and Block Top. The game was further enhanced by Ruth's no body parts rule, making assigning fingers of drink a more risky business. Everyone got to bed pretty late (and merry) that night.

The next day was an early start to get to Stanley Embankment. When we got there the world and their mother were already there in their bus-loads. Most peopled wussed out leaving only a few of the braver souls getting on the water, meaning that spectators were definitely in the majority. As we were sunning ourselves on the bank, Nick did voice some concern that Emily and Ella had not yet appeared  we figured that given the large amounts of firemen out practicing rescue manoeuvres, they were probably alright.

At this point, Sabine came racing up to inform us that a couple out walking had found our stuff in a lake. He had tracked us down using the list of names and phone numbers in Ruth's kidney book. Rob rushed off to Bangor armed with a thank-you bottle of wine (collecting a speeding-ticket along the way), returning with a big plastic bag with most of the missing stuff, including Claire's tampons and Sophie's medicine (all now rather soggy). Unfortunately, the more valuable stuff such as head-torches and pen-knives, to aid in further nocturnal law-breaking no doubt, and Kathy's camera. If anyone has spare photos I'm sure she would appreciate them, preferably photos of the weekend.

We packed up the bus and car and headed back to London a lot earlier then usual. The car got there a little earlier due to short-cuts taken by the bus and the fact that the indicator bulb on the bus was gone. The official story is that after Rob's little accident he borrowed not only the bus indicator bulbs, but also the spares, in case he had another incident. It was reckoned that with all those people in the bus, they could just stick their arms out the window to indicate.

Despite everything (and from now on we will be taking all our bags and boats into the pub with us rather then leaving them in the bus) it was a very enjoyable weekend and certainly one of the best paddling weekends without water that I've ever been on. And it was nice not to have any smelly kit to dry out on Sunday night.

Quotes:

Rob: "You know how we work Theo, you bend over and I poke you from behind"

Kathy: "I find that to make them really hard you need to blow them a little bit. I've been doing that to mine for years"

Alice (with insert from Ruth)
Back to Top
Imperial College Canoe Club
Feb 2004