18: Scafell Pike Having bumped into Nigel and Chris yesterday in Manchester, and having been advised by Nigel that after the previous chapter he is now going to seek me out and kill me till Im dead, I thought it prudent to return swiftly back to reality. I am not , therefore going to mention the hasty way, Pete the dogsbody threw Nigels string underpants to the back of the van upon noticing the skid marks. The journey south was something of a nightmare as I have already mentioned. Perhaps the most memorable - or should I say unforgettable - part of that journey coming towards the end, as we neared Scafell Pike. The winding roads didnt aid the sleeping process and Chris has since described seeing what looked like a group of nodding dogs in the rear view mirror. Of course when going around bends if you are semi-conscious and not holding on, or bracing yourself, there is always the prospect of going past the tipping point and falling one way. This happened to me as the van swung around yet another bend and I fell across the divide down the middle, my head nestling into the softest and most comfortable surface it had all journey, namely Stephens middle-aged midriff. Indeed - if the van hadnt then swerved in the opposite direction sending me back from whence Id come, I could quite happily have snuggled into Stephens midriff, something Im sure he wouldnt have approved of. We subsequently learned that Andy (the one some know as the Terrible Tenor) who was on the other side of Stephen, had actually nestled, or nearly nestled into Stephen in this way; reminding Stephen of the scene from the classic film Trains, Planes and Automobiles when Steve Martin and John Candy are forced to sleep in the same bed, but suddenly wake up and are horrified to find they are spooning. Stephen had recoiled in horror at this unexpected intimacy, Andy instantly assumed a more dignified position in his seat and an uncomfortable silence reigned for a second or two. ITV used to have a rival to BBCs Grandstand named World of Sport and whereas Grandstand only showed traditional, English sporting occasions, World of Sport covered a wider spectrum including wrestling, darts and rally driving. I never really sat down and watched rally driving but saw enough of it to be able to compare our experience to that of Colin McCrae and his co-driver. Chriss co-drivers at this point - Francis and Nigel were snuggling up to each other, each believing the other to be a pillow. Chris, alone, and no doubt tired herself was driving like Steve McQueen did in Bullit. We fairly hurtled round those bends and at one point hit a pot hole with such a bang that momentarily everyone in that Van was wakened at precisely the same second. Nevertheless, this sterling driver, this Stirling Moss of a driver brought the van to its destination - the Scafell Pike Car Park. Like a ship that had been battered in a storm out at sea, we gently came to a halt in this haven, this harbour. We had been here quite recently before of course and I for one wasnt in the least bit apprehensive having climbed it with relative ease on that occasion. Of course on that occasion, the climb had been preceded by a good nights sleep. On this occasion the opposite was true and this would have a bearing on the experience as we were all soon to find out. People had the dubious pleasure of relieving themselves in the portable Loos on the car-park - a truly hideous experience. Rucksacks were checked and adjusted, boots fastened. Water was replenished. Francis girded his loins, checked his accoutrements before striding ahead followed by the rest. But where was Caroline? Surely we hadnt left her in Scotland?
Posted on: Sun, 06 Jul 2014 08:16:55 +0000
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