WARPED Xmas Party Rally
16th December 1988 - W.A.R.P.E.D.
Another rally at the Raven Inn but this time, deciding against my tactic of the last time, (hopping on the A41 at Watford, and staying on it all the way to the pub), I used motorways for as much of the route as was practical and it only took a few hours instead of all day. This was a much better idea at nearly mid-winter as it gets dark quite early. (The last time it was nearly mid-summer.)
It seemed to have been a uniquely northern, (of Watford), tradition that first-ralliers had to wear 'L' plates and a few of them were in evidence in the cafe/bar end of the establishment that the rally was held in.
A bit of mess was made, bottles were balanced and hangovers constructed through the evening, helped by music from 'Sam Plank's Disco', which was in evidence at more than a few rallies back in the day.
On Saturday a few of us went shopping in town, but I forget which town, or what we were shopping for. I seem to have also forgotten if there were afternoon games, or we just convened in the bar, but all things considered, probably the latter.
The messiness aimed at the 'L's continued, but it was not restricted to them and most people got a bit, however small. Some people with beards had them painted a seasonal white, but only one had the Santa suit to go with it, complete with pigeon on his shoulder.
Why Cliff from The Parrot MCC appeared to have grown a pair of breasts was never explained, but I was assured they were neither real, nor about to be exposed. After a few more hours of partying we sloped off to the bonfire that, although seemingly constructed mostly of greenery, did not have any difficulty in burning well. I do have a hazy memory of spending time around the bonfire in the company of a very friendly girl, but she disappeared just as it was time to wander off to my tent.
Sunday morning everything was quite damp and the sun was low in the sky and in the eyes of all of us that were heading home in a Southerly direction, so sunglasses were the order of the day.
- Phil (the Spill) Drackley