Got the waistline down to a 31 through luck, skill and perseverance. Nothing to do with undiagnosed diabetes. Definitely not.
The Story So Far
Stint by stint. Surgery, weather, the great camping crisis, and the eternal hunt for one more pint.
Tickets For Anything?
The 30th-birthday treat that just keeps on giving. It all kicked off when Tree and Ison dared their CEO to prove he “could get tickets for anything”. To be fair, he delivered — Audi grandstand seats and entrance tickets. He just forgot the parking. Fail.
The Fun Fair Days
No official records exist — but these were the days of the old fun fair, the “gentlemen's entertainment trailers” and reasonably priced beer. It couldn't (and didn't) last.
We Met The Stig
We met the Stig. The real one — the one in the white suit. We even bought his book. A bit of a legend, in truth. We salute you, sir.
The France Years
A solid decade of France, France and more France — tarmac, sunburn and questionable cheese, year after year. Special mention to Tree, who deeply regrets saying “what's the worst that can happen?” while helping carry a sofa — turns out the worst that can happen is open spinal surgery.
Return Of The Back
Full complement, plenty of quaffing, Tree almost off the pain medication.
WTF?! No Camping
Speed Chills dipped out of secure camping. We found Travel Destinations and — credit where due — they do things bloody well.
The Bloody COVID Year
The world shut up shop and Le-Mans was off, so we ran our own 24 hours in Dave's (Ison's) back garden. In September. Adapt, overcome, open another can.
Field Of Dreams, Take Two
After being dicked around by just about everyone over a few runny noses, we gave France a miss and re-created the “field of dreams” — in August. Different… and, this being a British summer, predictably cold.
The Great French Gear Heist
Our one return to proper tarmac since covid — lovely, right up until some French git nicked our gear from the tents, despite the shed-loads we'd paid for “secure camping”. The AGM duly dictated: England again, but properly this time…
England Again
Heist still stinging, back to the garden we went while the hunt for a proper English site got under way.
The Stevington Years Begin
Dave's back garden shrank when the landlord wouldn't renew the lease on his field, so an alternative was needed. After a few drinks Ison piped up that he knew a little campsite just down the road and would “look into it”. He did bugger all — but Tree's OCD kicked in, convinced the owner we're a respectable bunch who definitely wouldn't trash the place, and the Stevington years were formed.
They Let Us Back
Surprise of surprises, Tithe Farm agreed to have us back — and threw in a shower block. See? We're not that bad.
A New Appreciation Of Porcelain
The year porcelain gained a whole new level of appreciation. No more builders'-site bogs — proper sit-down flushing toilets (which can, admittedly, leave you with Smurf-bum) and a brand-new addition: a full walk-in fridge. We've changed.
Roll On The 95th
The intention: back to La Sarthe. Green flag Saturday 12 June. Target — tent up and ready by mid-morning Thursday. The maths is simple: earlier tent, more beer time.