ANYONE FOR A MINT CAKE ?
Friday the glorious 12th, and a quick hop up the west coast mainline, courtesy of a virgin (inter-city !), saw the party joyously enjoined in glorious Kendal. Our host, the lovely Lynn (see previous blog), owner and apologist for `The Doherty Towers`, met us off the train at Oxenholme International, Carlisle`s second station. To give you an idea of the size of the place, we were instructed by the driver to `buzz` him if we wanted to stop there just after we had left Lancaster, so that warning could be sent on up ahead to extend the decking that masquerades as a platform. An unexpected delight on the trip, was to meet up with Elaine from Sandbach, whose seat we had inadvertantly nicked. She was off on a sailing trip to the Western Isles, and was to meet up later in the day with a friend in Dundee. She knew all about Kidz Klub, the charity we were supporting, and despite our limp protestations to the contrary, forced a sizeable note upon us for which we were humbly grateful. What a great start ! Thanks Elaine.
Lynn was hospitality personified, and Doherty Towers was clearly a good choice for our first night`s stay. After all, who else would accommodate three men overnight, dressed as two Romans and a Celtic peasant, then drive them next morning following a full roast-beef breakfast some one and a half hours to their starting point on the Cumbrian coast, followed by a further deviation to transport luggage to the Carlisle hotel and a final further hour`s drive back to Kendal. And all this for free ! Now that`s what I call a real woman.
There were two particular excitements during the afternoon, and I use the word somewhat cautiously. First of all Saga Radio telephoned for an interview, which was duly obliged. They threaten to use the five minute piece `spliced up` on their news bulletins, starting tomorrow. They were particularly pleased to hear about our plans for the goat, and wished us well with our chosen dress sense. After all, said the interviewer, "you`re not exactly in the first bloom of youth are you ?". The second incident took place at a `sensual lingerie` boutique in the town, appropriately enough called `Bliss`(you can look it up for yourself in Yellow Pages.I refuse to provide the address). Whilst Lynn and I were happy to walk straight past, Nick and particularly Dave couldn`t wait to linger. "They might have a decent Roman uniform",protested Dave. Well, he was right; they did, hidden amongst the black,pink and purple sequinned bodices that apparently gave various medical advantages to the wearer. And of course, no sooner had we toured the town than Dave, overcome by a combination of history and desire was to be found on the ramparts of Kendal Castle stripped to his underpants, his humility saved only by the shiny new body armour hired from `Bliss`. Dear reader, I can think of no finer way to describe the scene, than to say that Mussolini is alive and lives secretly in Kendal, dressed as a Roman. Nick had to be prevented from running off with `Big Dave`s ` proper clothing.
I finish for to-day by thanking all those correspondents who have kindly sprung to my defence regarding the poor state of my own physical appearance. I was especially moved by the kind comments of Mr Dave Stevens of Okker Hill, Tipton, a former off-beat drummer in an eighties boy band, who texted me to say that should I expire on the walk he would want no part of my legs, but would appreciate being given my Roman nose, which he could then use as an `envelope opener`.
DONATIONS. Should you wish to donate, please see Wednesday`s blog for details. All monies raised will go to Kidz Klub Leeds. Thanks.
PS. Lynn has to take the uniform back to `Bliss` on Tuesday. For those friends in Kendal who wish to be aware of this fact, she will be entering this very `intimate` establishment at approximately 10.00 am. She asked me to keep this quiet, and I have respected her wishes.
Lynn was hospitality personified, and Doherty Towers was clearly a good choice for our first night`s stay. After all, who else would accommodate three men overnight, dressed as two Romans and a Celtic peasant, then drive them next morning following a full roast-beef breakfast some one and a half hours to their starting point on the Cumbrian coast, followed by a further deviation to transport luggage to the Carlisle hotel and a final further hour`s drive back to Kendal. And all this for free ! Now that`s what I call a real woman.
There were two particular excitements during the afternoon, and I use the word somewhat cautiously. First of all Saga Radio telephoned for an interview, which was duly obliged. They threaten to use the five minute piece `spliced up` on their news bulletins, starting tomorrow. They were particularly pleased to hear about our plans for the goat, and wished us well with our chosen dress sense. After all, said the interviewer, "you`re not exactly in the first bloom of youth are you ?". The second incident took place at a `sensual lingerie` boutique in the town, appropriately enough called `Bliss`(you can look it up for yourself in Yellow Pages.I refuse to provide the address). Whilst Lynn and I were happy to walk straight past, Nick and particularly Dave couldn`t wait to linger. "They might have a decent Roman uniform",protested Dave. Well, he was right; they did, hidden amongst the black,pink and purple sequinned bodices that apparently gave various medical advantages to the wearer. And of course, no sooner had we toured the town than Dave, overcome by a combination of history and desire was to be found on the ramparts of Kendal Castle stripped to his underpants, his humility saved only by the shiny new body armour hired from `Bliss`. Dear reader, I can think of no finer way to describe the scene, than to say that Mussolini is alive and lives secretly in Kendal, dressed as a Roman. Nick had to be prevented from running off with `Big Dave`s ` proper clothing.
I finish for to-day by thanking all those correspondents who have kindly sprung to my defence regarding the poor state of my own physical appearance. I was especially moved by the kind comments of Mr Dave Stevens of Okker Hill, Tipton, a former off-beat drummer in an eighties boy band, who texted me to say that should I expire on the walk he would want no part of my legs, but would appreciate being given my Roman nose, which he could then use as an `envelope opener`.
DONATIONS. Should you wish to donate, please see Wednesday`s blog for details. All monies raised will go to Kidz Klub Leeds. Thanks.
PS. Lynn has to take the uniform back to `Bliss` on Tuesday. For those friends in Kendal who wish to be aware of this fact, she will be entering this very `intimate` establishment at approximately 10.00 am. She asked me to keep this quiet, and I have respected her wishes.
posted by George Tortoise at 9:41 AM
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