Set off for Dorset North, got hopelessly lost after leaving Bathampton!, three navigators two maps and not a bloody clue.


After turning on to the A36, which was clearly marked with a bloody great sign which said in foot high letters A36, Tom reckoned that this does not necessarily mean that it is the A36! What chance do we have. I should have invested in a whole Tom Tom and not half of one, all I got is a Tom Tit!



Travelled most of Dorset and Somerset and I think I saw a sign to Bargoed at one point, I did notice that the sun shone at us from all points of the compass.


Bladders hit critical mass so stopped and peed over some pedigree horses. Finally found our pub,The Stapleton Arms, which was recommended to us by Eric, the North Dorset press officer. Great place, very county, lovely food, three Ham Egg and Chips and one Sausage and Mash in Onion gravy. The Ham Egg and Chips was served on square wooden boards, which the Catering Manager pointed out indicated that it was a square meal as was served in Nelsons navy. Tom was somewhat miffed by the plates. He felt that in a posh place like this they could afford better. To complete our joy the pub had all the beers from a recent beer festival served by stunning topless barmaids.

I may have imagined that bit about topless barmaids!

Note: This an ideal pub for a Sunday lunch. If you intend to visit, start Wednesday!

Ned found it difficult to average out the specific gravities of the ales. His first pint, Parsons Crotch Sweat, or something like that, was 6.5%. He had then to find an ale that would reduce the mean to about 5.1% his normal intake level for a Saturday . A difficult task he said, as he was worn out from all that navigating.

Following the directions given by the delightful maids we found the ground. Tom borrowed a car with a radio so that he could listen to the International, England v South Africa, on the radio.
The three other members of the I.D.C. took their places on the sideline to voice their support for Thornbury.






Boys destroying North Dorset

Following a satisfactory win by the boys and a few libations in the bar we set off following the setting sun. This was because the navigators refuse to navigate so the driver, having a nautical bent, was forced to do a Columbus. Doubt was expressed at one point about this form of navigation when we passed through Taunton. However only one pee break was required in the whole return journey.





Driver realises that getting there was only half his problems.