Somerset Party 2010



For some time, this weekend had particular promise for me. Andy is unable to mention Richard and Sue's parties (in their back garden in Bridgewater), without combining words like: oh, man, love it, you are and f**kin'. Tales of ultra-high velocity spud cannons, bonfires and an awesome atmosphere clinched it.

I rode off to find former and current club Presidents waiting, no: basking at Andy's house - it was a glorious day. Not a cloud (and courtesy of a volcano) not even an air-liner contrail. We were due to meet Big Steve on the M5 and with the precision of mid-air refuelling we caught up with him patrolling near junction 6. A brief stint to juntion 11 and we jumped onto the back roads for bacon butties at Ian's drum in Chippenham.

"fit-shaced". A phrase coined by my own Kaza and now entering common parlance to describe that point of utter, alcohol fuelled annihilation.

And then on to Bridgewater, with a quick stop to look at Andy's old house at Yarley Cross and then another at the Sexeys Arms. Typical Ian transaction with the landlord there:

Are you open?
No.
Will you sell us beer anyway?
Yes.

By the time we got to Bridgewater we'd made a five hour trip out of a 90 minute one, it was a great ride.

A few hours or more in the sunshine and the party cranked up a notch. Wicked set up, two fields: one for tents (about a dozen) and one for the party. A dirty great marquee housing a PA, lasers, smoke and bubble machines and a fridge for booze sat opposite an even bigger pile of branches and wood for the bonfire. The spud cannon made an appearance (it's on my wedding list) before someone took a flare to the fire material, released the chinese lanterns and - well, game on!

I'll abbreviate the rest, but some vodka, stripping (me again), firewalking and much revelry later, Andy got "fit-shaced". A phrase coined by my own Kaza and now entering common parlance to describe that point of utter, alcohol fuelled annihilation.

The weather and the company were critical, but by gum the hosts were fundamental to a top old time.

If Carlsberg did parties....

Shitename


pub


tent


bar


relax


ian


house


syze


bonfire


feeding time


steve


bonfire


bonfire


bubbles


bubbles


fire


weird


weird


weird


da boyz


weird


andy and sue


chattin


shitename dancin


bubble


shitename


fire


crew


shitename


up poncho

An 'Up-Poncho' moment


up poncho

Another 'Up-Poncho' moment


flesh

Shitename has chest hair


fire

Not any more...


Please note the height of this tree stump...

tree


Ok, off we go...

tree


tree


tree


tree


undies


undies


chatting


Ian


lapdance


lapdance


strange


dancing


sausages


cooking


singing


dancing

They're dancing to the music...


dancing

Really, they ARE dancing...


dancing

Nothing un-manly going on here...


singing


cooking


singing


playing


playing


shades


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