Day 3: 21st June 2010

The longest day started early. Very early. why is British wildlife so darn loud?

We headed off to Morrisons as normal, breakfasting quickly then headed off to the Children's Hospice South West again. THis was more of a flying visit than on Sunday, and we all squeezed round the fountain for a few photos.

Unfortunately the lack of a rear view mirror in Dennis was a major factor in the spare wheel nudging the driver's side wing of Barry's car, Charlie. A slight dint, but no paint broken - and at least it was Tony driving, not me (BIG SMILEY)!

Off we went from there, on our way to Lands End. The students were having issues with tyres rubbing in the corners, but a slightly less spirited driving style helped there.

We reached Camelford without too many hold ups, and had our loo stop there - where
coincidentally, there is *no* mobile signal. Sam and Dave in car 10 had some roblems keeping up on some of the hills (something I know quite well!) so we arranged to move car 10 up to car 3's position, with Jo becoming car 2 and an Arthur (groan)

The rest of the run down to Lands End was uneventful, and we rolled into the car park after the usual "confuse the attendant" moment at the gates. "Yes, we're booked in to park by the sign post" "Oh, ee know nuthin bout thaaat"... Finally though we got in, lined up and ready for pictures and after a "genuine" cornish pasty, we made our way back.

Chris was back with us after escorting the cb-less car 9 - a few wrong turns round Redruth had split us up. We found out on the way back that although Chris likes a nibble on an oddly tasting sausage, he's never had a faggot, and prefers to say 'acelet rather than hazlet (that's one for the Lincolnshire folk reading this (BIG SMILEY)).

We headed to Morrisons once we got back to Bideford, tanked up and then travelled in convoy to the Thatched Inn for food. Just as we turned off to head for Abbotsham though, a bee saw fit to slam into the driver's side a-post seam, and find its way into my lap. Not knowing whether it was dead or stunned, I ended up spending the rest of the short journey from there propped up in my seat, lest i had a stinging bottom...

We got parked up - no mean feat when there's no parking left, and you're pushing yourself out of the car seat - and I was relieved to find the bee was no more, and had actually left half of itself stuck to my t-shirt...

Once in the Thatched Inn I managed to get the first 2 days blog posts up on to the net, and soon the food appeared. We were housed in the gala tent, with each order tied to the car which had ordered it, which turned out to be a very efficient way to order and to pay later on.

There were many topics of conversation, including one confusing moment where Rich was describing a film he'd seen where a man who was hung up by the Vietnamese - which some of us thought was a euphemism for a part of his anatomy... more confusion arose when we looked at the sweet menu, which offered, amongst other things, a "caramelised apple granny". I wasn't sure about ordering it, half expecting some kind of sugar caged old woman being served on a platter with an apple in her mouth - well, you never know...

Once we'd all finished, it was everyone for themselves to get back to the campsite for an early night. And as luck would have it, 2 1/2 hours later, was still trying to sort out Dennis' indicators which decided not to indicate on the way back from the pub. A throng of mini owners buzzed round the car, swapping tales of similar issues, volunteering suggestions, unfortunately to no avail.

No, it wadn't the flasher unit behind the dash; no, not the hazard light switch; no, not the fusebox wiring and no, not the switches on the column. Points go to you if you guessed what I should have guessed in the first place - a baked relay. And oh yes, compared to the much cooler evening temperatures, it was baking.

Eventually, all the tools were packed back away, and after a swift Foster's to celebrate fixing it all, it was time for bed, only to get up in 6 hours time...