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Sep. 22nd, 2006 11:01 pmHad to haul my carcass from bed at 5.45 am for the drive down to Hythe for the New Forest's Civic Day. Round our way it was raining, but thank goodness the New Forest was dry - John the driver, studying the sky, went as far as to promise us sun in the afternoon.
We'd been told David, the New Forest chairman, was hoping to be fit to host us after fainting on Wednesday night but still hadn't heard for definite. As we milled around talking to various other mayors and chairmen, a car pulled up and David got out, looking a whole lot better, sparking a hearty round of applause from everyone. My mother was first to belt straight up to him, greet him and ask him how he was; he said he was fine.
We were ushered onto a delightful old-fashioned little train that took us along the pier, down to the end where we boarded a boat. Someone was passing round a copy of this week's Hello, as John and Sheila from Southampton's daughter Melanie was featured in it with her boyfriend Theo Walcott. Maria came and sat in our section, having left Jim elsewhere - she was telling someone "I don't have to sit with Jim, I can be with him any time." I said "You haven't had a row, then?" and Maria replied that they don't have rows, Jim does everything she tells him.
On board, we were faced with self-service tables laden with tea, coffee, Danish pastries and - yes! - BACON ROLLS! Pat, the County Council vice-chairman, and I both rushed straight for the bacon butties. We went and sat at a table together, and as the first half-hour or so wore on she went up for seconds - and thirds - and offered to fetch a butty for me both times. What a charming lady.
This was the kind of Civic Day event I really like - spending two hours on a boat, sailing along from Hythe to Lymington, with nothing demanded of us, free to spend the whole time admiring the view out of the windows and mill around talking to each other. My mother and I met up with Tony, Margaret, Jim and Maria and they all got their diaries out and shared dates of various civic balls after Christmas. A few people ventured up onto the open deck to get some fresh air and admire the view first-hand. We were treated to the occasional bit of commentary about this or that place as we passed it, like Fawley power station, by a very camp-sounding member of New Forest council staff - my mother reckoned he sounded like Kenneth Williams.
As we pulled into Lymington quay, David proudly pointed out a large public swimming pool. It was very smart, and David said it was now fully self-financing. Next door was the sailing club; David told us that as chairman, this year he's an ex officio member of the Club and could take us all there for a drink if he wished. Sadly, there wasn't time in the schedule for that.
On the boat we'd got talking to Alex and Gill from East Dorset. As we all stepped off on Lymington quay they told us about a steam festival they'd been to last weekend where there'd been lots of real ale on sale. Cue a lengthy chat about real ale.
We were taken by bus to Setley Ridge vineyard. On the drive, the camp guy did a bit of commentary about the town we were passing through - he now sounded just like Rambling Sid Rumpo! During a pause in his commentary I said to my mother "So grindle your possets and traddle your nadgers."
When we got off at Setley it was spitting with rain, but Rambling Sid and a colleague were on hand to lend us umbrellas. One of the vineyard staff showed us the room where the wine is fermented, then took us for a walk round. He warned us against eating the grapes - "they're nowhere near as sweet as table grapes" - and pointed out the nets that they've put over the red grapes, as the birds had been eating them.
As we walked round, the vineyard man told us that soon, in early October, they'll be harvesting the grapes. The picking's all done by volunteers, mostly friends and family of the staff with a few of the clientele from the local pub. He said that at the end of the day's picking all the volunteers get treated to a big tea with the vineyard's wine to drink. Several of our party jokingly said they'd come...
The vineyard man pointed out a Mongolian yurt in one corner, adding that he's newly married and his wife had it put up. I asked whether she was Mongolian and he said "No, she's from Bournemouth." He explained that she likes to go and sit in it for peace and quiet.
We ended our tour back at the fermenting room where the man gave us a little talk about the grape-crushing and fermentation. Then we were led to the shop, where we were given a drop of their white wine each while the man told us how to taste wine properly (slurp it across the roof of your mouth). Each mayor or chairman was given a free bottle of their white, then it was back on the bus to go to Brockenhurst College for lunch.
David opened the proceedings with a few words about how doctors had told him a Latin name for what afflicted him on Wednesday, but that essentially it was just fainting, praised the superb treatment he'd had at the Aldershot hospital, and told us all he was feeling fine, to thunderous applause, before introducing the college students who'd made the dinner and the ones who'd be serving us.
We sat with Alex and Gill, plus Richard and his guest Virginia and Ted and Beryl from Bournemouth, and talked about English history, and aspects of life and local government in our respective areas. The food was wonderful, especially a deliciously roasted duck.
We'd expected to be leaving after lunch, as my mother was due to present prizes at a school fun run back in Gosport in the late afternoon. So we said our goodbyes to everybody (including Maria giving me a full-on kiss) then made our way to the Mayoral car ... where John told us that the fun run had been cancelled because of rain. Cue us running towards the bus containing all the other civic dignitaries, to get on just before it left. As we boarded, we announced to everyone that the fun run was off - cue amusement all round, but a lot of people told us they were delighted we'd be staying on after all.
Our last destination was the Minstead Training Project, which trains people with learning disabilities in gardening, woodwork and computer use as well as teaching them life skills. We had a tour round the garden, the workshops and one of the residential houses, and met several of the students, including a very nice young lady who, that morning, had made a large wooden sign of which she was justifiably proud. The day ended with salmon sandwiches, scones, jam and cream over a talk and slide presentation from a young man who'd climbed the highest peaks of all 7 continents. His tale was amazing. One slide showed us the foot of his climbing buddy for the Everest trip - the buddy had got such bad frostbite that his toes had turned black and will come off one day. Fortunately our hero escaped lasting physical damage. I thought he should write a book about his exploits, but didn't get the chance to tell him so.
On the drive home we hit horrendous traffic for nearly half an hour. While crawling through it, we passed, and were passed by, Brian and Audrey from East Hants several times, waving every time! We didn't get back till gone seven.
We made a quick change and had a cup of coffee before setting off to see Linda, an old family friend, as it was her birthday yesterday. Linda was in fairly good spirits considering that one of her close family is in intensive care at the moment. My mother had bought a bottle of Idle Rock Cabernet Sauvignon that she'd picked up on the way back from Royan in May - Linda called it 'the class stuff' compared to her own Jacob's Creek, but it was foul. We reminisced about old times for a while, but then Linda's husband Peter, a taxi driver, came in, announced that the person he'd gone to pick up had no-showed, and spent the rest of the evening talking at us all about some heavy stuff from over 10 years ago.
'Night all.
We'd been told David, the New Forest chairman, was hoping to be fit to host us after fainting on Wednesday night but still hadn't heard for definite. As we milled around talking to various other mayors and chairmen, a car pulled up and David got out, looking a whole lot better, sparking a hearty round of applause from everyone. My mother was first to belt straight up to him, greet him and ask him how he was; he said he was fine.
We were ushered onto a delightful old-fashioned little train that took us along the pier, down to the end where we boarded a boat. Someone was passing round a copy of this week's Hello, as John and Sheila from Southampton's daughter Melanie was featured in it with her boyfriend Theo Walcott. Maria came and sat in our section, having left Jim elsewhere - she was telling someone "I don't have to sit with Jim, I can be with him any time." I said "You haven't had a row, then?" and Maria replied that they don't have rows, Jim does everything she tells him.
On board, we were faced with self-service tables laden with tea, coffee, Danish pastries and - yes! - BACON ROLLS! Pat, the County Council vice-chairman, and I both rushed straight for the bacon butties. We went and sat at a table together, and as the first half-hour or so wore on she went up for seconds - and thirds - and offered to fetch a butty for me both times. What a charming lady.
This was the kind of Civic Day event I really like - spending two hours on a boat, sailing along from Hythe to Lymington, with nothing demanded of us, free to spend the whole time admiring the view out of the windows and mill around talking to each other. My mother and I met up with Tony, Margaret, Jim and Maria and they all got their diaries out and shared dates of various civic balls after Christmas. A few people ventured up onto the open deck to get some fresh air and admire the view first-hand. We were treated to the occasional bit of commentary about this or that place as we passed it, like Fawley power station, by a very camp-sounding member of New Forest council staff - my mother reckoned he sounded like Kenneth Williams.
As we pulled into Lymington quay, David proudly pointed out a large public swimming pool. It was very smart, and David said it was now fully self-financing. Next door was the sailing club; David told us that as chairman, this year he's an ex officio member of the Club and could take us all there for a drink if he wished. Sadly, there wasn't time in the schedule for that.
On the boat we'd got talking to Alex and Gill from East Dorset. As we all stepped off on Lymington quay they told us about a steam festival they'd been to last weekend where there'd been lots of real ale on sale. Cue a lengthy chat about real ale.
We were taken by bus to Setley Ridge vineyard. On the drive, the camp guy did a bit of commentary about the town we were passing through - he now sounded just like Rambling Sid Rumpo! During a pause in his commentary I said to my mother "So grindle your possets and traddle your nadgers."
When we got off at Setley it was spitting with rain, but Rambling Sid and a colleague were on hand to lend us umbrellas. One of the vineyard staff showed us the room where the wine is fermented, then took us for a walk round. He warned us against eating the grapes - "they're nowhere near as sweet as table grapes" - and pointed out the nets that they've put over the red grapes, as the birds had been eating them.
As we walked round, the vineyard man told us that soon, in early October, they'll be harvesting the grapes. The picking's all done by volunteers, mostly friends and family of the staff with a few of the clientele from the local pub. He said that at the end of the day's picking all the volunteers get treated to a big tea with the vineyard's wine to drink. Several of our party jokingly said they'd come...
The vineyard man pointed out a Mongolian yurt in one corner, adding that he's newly married and his wife had it put up. I asked whether she was Mongolian and he said "No, she's from Bournemouth." He explained that she likes to go and sit in it for peace and quiet.
We ended our tour back at the fermenting room where the man gave us a little talk about the grape-crushing and fermentation. Then we were led to the shop, where we were given a drop of their white wine each while the man told us how to taste wine properly (slurp it across the roof of your mouth). Each mayor or chairman was given a free bottle of their white, then it was back on the bus to go to Brockenhurst College for lunch.
David opened the proceedings with a few words about how doctors had told him a Latin name for what afflicted him on Wednesday, but that essentially it was just fainting, praised the superb treatment he'd had at the Aldershot hospital, and told us all he was feeling fine, to thunderous applause, before introducing the college students who'd made the dinner and the ones who'd be serving us.
We sat with Alex and Gill, plus Richard and his guest Virginia and Ted and Beryl from Bournemouth, and talked about English history, and aspects of life and local government in our respective areas. The food was wonderful, especially a deliciously roasted duck.
We'd expected to be leaving after lunch, as my mother was due to present prizes at a school fun run back in Gosport in the late afternoon. So we said our goodbyes to everybody (including Maria giving me a full-on kiss) then made our way to the Mayoral car ... where John told us that the fun run had been cancelled because of rain. Cue us running towards the bus containing all the other civic dignitaries, to get on just before it left. As we boarded, we announced to everyone that the fun run was off - cue amusement all round, but a lot of people told us they were delighted we'd be staying on after all.
Our last destination was the Minstead Training Project, which trains people with learning disabilities in gardening, woodwork and computer use as well as teaching them life skills. We had a tour round the garden, the workshops and one of the residential houses, and met several of the students, including a very nice young lady who, that morning, had made a large wooden sign of which she was justifiably proud. The day ended with salmon sandwiches, scones, jam and cream over a talk and slide presentation from a young man who'd climbed the highest peaks of all 7 continents. His tale was amazing. One slide showed us the foot of his climbing buddy for the Everest trip - the buddy had got such bad frostbite that his toes had turned black and will come off one day. Fortunately our hero escaped lasting physical damage. I thought he should write a book about his exploits, but didn't get the chance to tell him so.
On the drive home we hit horrendous traffic for nearly half an hour. While crawling through it, we passed, and were passed by, Brian and Audrey from East Hants several times, waving every time! We didn't get back till gone seven.
We made a quick change and had a cup of coffee before setting off to see Linda, an old family friend, as it was her birthday yesterday. Linda was in fairly good spirits considering that one of her close family is in intensive care at the moment. My mother had bought a bottle of Idle Rock Cabernet Sauvignon that she'd picked up on the way back from Royan in May - Linda called it 'the class stuff' compared to her own Jacob's Creek, but it was foul. We reminisced about old times for a while, but then Linda's husband Peter, a taxi driver, came in, announced that the person he'd gone to pick up had no-showed, and spent the rest of the evening talking at us all about some heavy stuff from over 10 years ago.
'Night all.
