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Fire water wins the day

April 16, 2014

In the possible absence of the internet aboard the Brittany Ferry to Santander (I am not banking on it in a manner of speaking) I have decided to pre prepare you eager my awaited coming for Tuesday the day before.

I had no space yesterday to mention a particular event of note that occurred whilst we were aboard the steam train (with the dastardly dog traveling in his “rover” ticket, on the Isle Wight. Before boarding I had mentioned that I was still carrying a surfeit of beer, which I would probably need to jettison before we reached the next station. “Don’t worry, they will have toilets on the train” said That Nice Lady Decorator They did not. I reckoned that I could make it to our destination if the driver did not spare the horses, so to speak and made sure he used full throttle. But then, as we reached what I thought should have been a fast straight, the engine began to slow. There was smoke ahead.

A grass fire besides the track had erupted, almost certainly as a result of embers billowing from the smoke stack of the engine, and smoke was billowing over the track. No problem I thought, there is no danger to the train or it’s passengers, and a grass fire in April in England after the wettest winter on record, would amount no nothing. But oh no, the driver brought the engine and its five carriages to a complete halt, and the staff on board jumped down onto the bank and began beating the flames to put them out. “But I need the toilet” I exclaimed loudly, with more than a hint of desperation. Some 5 minutes elapsed whilst the fireman (aptly named or what?) struggled to contain the blaze, whilst all the time my suffering became more and more acute. Able to hold it no longer, I looked for a suitable receptacle for my used beer. Something like a water bottle, and was offered a Walkers Crisp packet. As they say, needs must when the devil drives and I had a devil of a job to contain my bladder. The result is that I now know that the available space in a crisp packet is just about equal to my full bladder. There was a moment when I thought that my bladder might err.. tip the balance, so to speak but thankfully there was sufficient space. I was then as content as a new customer after his first deal with Currencies Direct. Had there not been insufficient space, I hesitate to consider the options. I think I would have been walking back. That, of course, was not an end to the problem. What to do with the urine infested crisp bag?. Simple, I thought, empty it out of the window onto the smouldering grass. I feel certain that it was my personal contribution that made the difference in containing the fire.



Later, as we pulled into the station, it was my job to deal with the soiled and damp but now empty packet, but once dealt with, problem solved and normal service resumed.

Yesterday, we left the Isle Of Wight, and decided to spend part of the day exploring Hayling Island before hailing our ferry to Santander. I wish we had not, as my impressions after a three hour drive around it is that the place is just a miserable built up suburb of Portsmouth, without a single redeeming feature. We did find a nice pub called the Ship, but it was not on the Island, but just after you leave, and there we discovered a charming walk along the coast, and as we turned the first corner, we realised that we were merely a stones throw from the Royal Oak at Langston, a new discovery last week, so what was a man to do? Well what he did was pop in for a pint, probably the last pint of proper beer that will pass my lips before July. It is gassy nonsense and wine from now on.

Chris France

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Rev. Jeff permalink
    April 16, 2014 11:47 am

    For a while there he thought ‘I can’t hack it’,
    So he started to make a loud racket,
    So Issy said, ‘Chris,
    If you’re desperate to piss,
    ‘Urine’ luck cos I’ve got a Chris(p) packet ‘ !!

    Come on a Chris P(ee) packet is not bad !!


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