A Munchkin's eye view of the Nodnol meet
up, 26th January 2002

For me the meet up began on the Friday night. I had arranged to have a few fellow Hootooers staying with me in Woking over the weekend. So it was that I found myself watching dull TV on a Friday evening and awaiting the arrival of Pegasus and Babel 17, who duelly telephoned towards seven o'clock, having forgotten where I lived in town.

Simple directions were supplied, and we were soon in the pub, eating food and consuming what turned out to be a bad choice, Haggis Basher (it being Burns' Night). I further scurried off into the night to acquire Agent 1013 from the train and we settled in.

Somewhen around nine I received a phone call. It turned out that my
other guests, Jamie, Ford's Prefect and Lost in Scotland were,
unsurprisingly, lost, having also forgotten to bring any directions
with them. Trying to direct them by phone sadly failed as Jamie didn't
understand what a roundabout was so I was forced to chase them on
foot. Finally, however, they were brought to the pub and a couple of
pints were quaffed, a few photos taken, and some gibberish spouted.
Sadly, this being the Home Counties, the pub shut at eleven and we
retired back to my flat, via a Martian which I failed entirely to
photograph succesfully, for further beer and nonsense.

We all awoke the next morning feeling less than healthy. Due to the
hangovers being universally bad, which we ascribed to some dodgy beer
from the night before, we struggled our way upright, and off to
Nodnol, engineering work on the tracks not withstanding.

Nothing exciting (other than a phone being hurled at me) occured on
the way up and we quickly arrived at the pub, just before one, to
discover a large group already there. Not unsurprisingly, this was
lead by the Dutch contingent. So we settled in, beer was bought, the
bar staff looked very confused and many hallos were said. From now on
my memories break down into little vignettes which go a little like this;

• Early on being mobbed by the combined forces of Maw's and Croz's birds which consisted of two penguins and two ducks.

• Totally failing to get anyone's badges ('Is that bloke called
  toothpaste?' Turned out he was Tube)

• Not recognising Titania without her shadow. Previously I had only seen
  a photograph of Titania's shadow and so, upon meeting her, the first
  thing I said was 'Sorry, I didn't recognise your shadow'. Jings I'm witty.

• Much discussion as to whether to do the treasure hunt, before caving
  in and heading off down Whitehall.

• Ford's Prefect climbing on Winston Churchill for a photograph, and
  getting very wet.

• Lost throwing himself off Westminster Bridge (almost) for a photo.
  He'd tried to take a picture of the rest of us across the road, but
  people always got in the way so he took one of himself leaning over
  the rail.

• Sam failing to get us into the BBC. Apparently we had to have someone
  responsible around.

• Half the team getting off at the wrong Tube stop and then not
  listening as we shouted at them.

• Losing Sam and Croz at Oxford Circus. We didn't mean to, only we were
  rushing to a department store and they just vanished. Sorry guys.

• Being kissed by a lipstick clad Wumbeevil. I don't think I will ever
  be able to forget this. Wumbe, having just been made up in a
  department store for one of the photos rushed out and kissed me in the
  middle of Oxford Street. It was so romantic.

• Finally finding the Sutton Arms only to find it stowed to the
  gunwhales which led to me being crushed into the pub while Abi tried
  to force feed me. They were very nice nibbles, thanks.

• Almost passing out from tiredness when I finally found a seat. As soon
  as they opened the upstairs section I rushed up to drop off my coat
  and hat and to have a wee seat. Having been trogging around Nodnol for
  the best part of five hours I had great trouble getting up again.

• Being hugged by Phil. Now I know there was a good reason for this, but
  I can't remember it at the mo'.

• Being called 'elegant'. Thanks Abi, you do know how to inflate a boy's
  ego.

• Failing to get a free Moxon from Mark, because I already had one in my
  hand. Well he was handing them out, only I still had one spare and
  wasn't quite quick enough to realise it was in my hand.

Sadly I had to gather together the legions at eleven o'clock and head
for Waterloo. Unfortunately, due to a slow change on the tube and a
desperate need for the facilities in the station we missed the train.
As it turned out, those heading for Southampton had also missed their
train, so we had a Waterloo micro meet while waiting for the last
train of the night, at one o'clock in the morning. This gave us time
to witness Babel being harrased in Burger King for his kilt and to
watch Peregrin busking in my hat.

We finally got back to Woking at two in the morning and quickly passed
out.

Sunday morning was spent watching late seventies and early eighties
childrens TV programmes, such as The Flumps while Lost in Scotland
looked on confused. Sadly Rhubarb and Custard never made it to Sweden.
Another great weekend, thanks to the italics for organinsing it, I
only wish I could have said hello to more people. Maybe next time.

Doctor Munchkin

07.02.02. Front Page

Back Issue Page