So it's the weekend of the local Radio 1 Big Weekend and I happen to live just a couple miles away from Powderham Castle, the venue. We all know the routine by now. Stay in the village, lock the cat in, find stuff to do around the garden etc. Not because we're afraid of festivallers, but because, as lovely a setting as it is, the roads in and out of the Earl of Devon's pile are tiny and shite, so vehicular travel is a nightmare for the duration. Added to which, the two local district councils (who are partly funding the event *ahem*) have declared an exclusion zone for stopping, parking, picking up and dropping off that seems to include most of western Europe. So all in all, a long weekend within sight of the house, a Rugby Final to enjoy and a couple of slabs of Guinness in prospect. I can't get out, but karmic-ally it means others (inlaws) can't get to me, so I'm quite pragmatic about the whole thing. Except... Bill has to go for his MOT on Saturday morning. My usual routine is to drop him off at Bridge Motorcycles on a Saturday morning, and because our office hours conflict so much, they hold onto him until the following Saturday for me to collect. Last year, I couldn't get a lift back so I walked home. About 3.5 miles but virtually door to door along the canal bank, so quite pleasant. Except... On that day it was about 25c... and I was in full leathers and boots, carrying my helmet... One shower wasn't quite enough. Mrs kpone has said she will follow me and bring me home this year in the car, but it means the hassle of a car journey during the Radio 1 curfew, so it would be better to repeat last year's ramble except for the personal sauna even my textiles would create. I'd need a Bergen to pack my gear to carry it, and I don't have one. Anyway, I jokingly mentioned this when I booked in the bike and the service manager at Bridge declared that it was no problem as I could leave my helmet and leathers with them for the week too. What nice guys.
My old man balls do nothing but swing these days, Lozzy mate. And getting up is more the issue than getting down. Plus, I'm depressed enough without sitting in a field with a worryingly high water table listening to Oldplay and Take That without the one that could sing.
I feel your pain. Lord snooty over the road from me hires out his estate land to a dance music festival a couple of weekends a year. Hundreds of kids wandering about, mostly in the middle of the NSL road, trying to find the entrances... I wouldn't mind if I got a free ticket.. And don't get me started on those Wiggle organised cycle rides !!
