Finally, a Sunny Meet!
Created | Updated Feb 24, 2003
The Summer 2002 meet in Nodnol started for me in much the same way as every other one I've ever attended, worrying about transport.
On this occasion it was worrying about Jamie being able to find Woking, as he, Ford's Prefect and Dr Gonzo were staying in Woking for the weekend. However Jamie had been to Woking before and so my worries were entirely unfounded. In fact they beat me to the pub. I spirited them off to Toccata's house for an evening of pizza and thoughtful musings on the state of art before an early night, the trip down from Edinburgh having somewhat taken it out of them.
Any old shoes, Saturday morning dawned sunny, with barely a cloud in the sky, much to my surprise. I had yet to attend a meet anywhere where it didn't at least rain a little bit. In preparation for the day ahead I ate a massive fried breakfast, straining my arteries to their very limits to ensure I would make it through the various pubs. Then off to Nodnol on the train, an entirely non-descript journey which allowed us to meet Zantic and The Psycho Chicken in Borough High Street, in Southwark. We were there to acquire a picnic from Borough Market, which turned out to be a top notch idea. Borough Market is stuffed to the gills with lovely fresh fruit, wonderfully smelly cheeses and fluffy fresh bread, to name but a few things. We left there weighed down but looking forward to lunch. A pit stop was required, so we seven popped in to the George Inn, a sixteenth century coaching inn, where I had my first pint of the day.
By this point Dr Gonzo was fretting to see some of the tourist sights of Nodnol so we headed for Hyde Park via Nodnol Bridge (with a view of Tower Bridge), a number of Tube Stations and a busy Knightsbridge, all of which he thoroughly enjoyed for some reason. Crawling into Hyde Park we met Abi. We all said hello and then headed for the Bandstand while Toccata, who had failed to recognise Abi, proceeded to have a conversation with Abi about how an italic, possibly Abi, was no doubt off finding a spot for softball as they spoke.
Arriving at the Bandstand the meet proper began, with many hellos, staring at badges and sly quaffing of Pastey's mead. After a while of this I was designated Explorer in Chief and led the advance party to the softball site, where we promptly set out our picnic food. Toccata broke out the flask of Gin and Tonic (a brilliant idea, if a tad too much Gin), and we settled down to lunch, quickly discovering our knife was not big enough to cut the watermelon properly. Over time, more people turned up and various frisbees, softballs and cameras were broken out. However, no sporting activity began until Mark Moxon arrived, with his commanding bearing and can of Fosters. He briskly bullied people into two teams and the softball was began. The standard of playing was 'interesting' but the standard of arguing over the rules was exceptional until Pastey stepped up to take on the role of umpire. Things then settled down and many a thrilling moment occured. I believe the boys team won.
There then followed some more meeting and greeting, much ice cream being consumed and a friendly slap on the wrist for myself for not talking to people on site. Then it was I was dragged off to Leicester Square for dinner in an extremely noisy pub. If only the noise had been from people I would not have complained, but it came from the speakers. But enough of my being old and fuddy duddy. A couple of pints in this pub, and a gawp at the girls going to the school disco, and it was off to the evening pub, the Leicester Arms.
h2g2 had booked the first floor where sandwiches were laid out and Moxons (beer tokens which make me glad to pay my licence fee) were handed around by Abi. The room quickly filled up, but there was just enough space to allow people to move around, which led to a final round of meeting and greeting as the serious business of consuming the Moxons took hold. Pastey took to showing videos of George Michael and the American Red Dwarf on his laptop. My hat began to do its slow wander, although no where near as much as at some meets. Uncle Heavy steadfastly refused to drink and instead got horribly wired on coke. Tinkerbell displayed the most shiny, spangely badge I have ever seen, disturbingly with Kylie Minogue on it for the film fans. I, along with a number apparently, bothered Gnomon, telling him how intelligent he was. Sam kept me up to date on the Open scores. Pastey started collecting people's signatures on his laptop (I took three goes to write mine). Lucky Star baffled all with her anagram T-Shirt. Spimcoot out did me on the dress stakes by wearing a tie. And then the quiz came round.
Now Jimster did say at the beginning that the quiz would be hard. Which is just as well, as I was forced to very quickly agree with him. It was fun though and, if I hadn't been drinking, I'm sure I would have learned something. I believe the quiz was won by the Thingites.
As the night began to run out the last of the Moxons were hastily drunk, the prizes for badges, well thieved by Abi, were given out and Sam led us in a farewell to that man Moxon, who then proposed a toast to absent friends. Then people began to leave. For some this took longer than others and Dr Gonzo was the last to leave the building, just before a bouncer helped him. Much hugging and goodbying was done and people drifted off, sometimes in interesting, gossip creating groups, which I couldn't possibly repeat here. The Woking contingent was gathered and herded onto a tube, along with a confused Frankie Roberto. We pointed Frankie in the right direction eventually and happily caught our train back. And so the night came to a close. A great time was had once again, and I managed not to mention a certain lass seeing all the wine she had drunk again on the train. The pink colour did set off my shoes very nicely, if not my waistcoat.
Thanks to Pastey and Gnomon for the pictures - more can be viewed on The (Almost) Definitive Meetup Photos Page provided by Croz - ed.
