Post 413: Crafty Pints in Crafty Bars and Mighty Hikers
Getting up to the sound of showers and the smell of bacon cooking in the kitchen is a welcoming start to the day.
It seems like everyone is chattering and laughing, but every now and then there’s a burst of such loud laughter that I imagine there’s a comedian heating the thin slices of Danish piggy-wig while being royally entertained on its last journey into the mouths of the hungry gang already sipping tea and laughing with our hosts.
Throwing my curtains apart reveals a very pleasant view because, although the ground is dry, the scudding clouds are not the dark, gloomy, rain-filled ones. Which means a walk around town, somewhere, would be accompanied by those beautiful white backlit clouds that must inspire an artist’s brush.
I take my pills and join in with the breakfast committee’s decisions about which pubs we should visit, but there is a problem with transportation.
There are five jolly chaps and chapettes, so we need two cars to get us to the start of the pub crawl.
My eldest’s arrival on the scene makes it a straight half-dozen and, because he won’t be drinking the hard stuff, he volunteers to be the second dry taxi driver.
We finally organise our day trip.
Soon we’re all aboard the vehicles and I’m in the passenger seat with my eldest, who knows the roads like the back of his hand. We set a blistering pace, as if he were already making up for lost drinking time, even though his chosen tipple is a cordial.
The two cars are parked up and, with day tickets bought for a fiver, we can forget about them and disappear into the streets of shops, cafés and pubs, along with all the hiking gear shops that hold no interest for us.
So into the first baa we go, complete with sheep-themed décor.
There are loads of different ales to choose from, but eventually we collect our pints and spread ourselves around a table that had curiously, and happily, become available.
What a bit of luck.
We chat and sip our way through the first beer and I realise I’m being treated to everyone’s attention.
“Can I help you?”
“Shall I carry that for you?”
And so on.
I was feeling like the king amongst my newish and olderish friends.
With two pints down, it is time to set off in search of food, so we say our goodbyes.
Thanks, Crafty Baa.
This is when the committee stands in the middle of the town square and argues this and that.
Café or pub?
Pub with food or café with beer?
In the end we try a nearby pub, but there are no tables available. Then, next door to that one, we spot a pub that has recently been refurbished.
It looks almost unlived in.
But looking over the shoulders of the other diners trying it out, we can see it is a fine place to eat.
And it was.
The food arrives quickly and the chatter remains constant, but I am getting tired. After a dark pint to wash down my spicy fake meatballs and jacket potato, I head home with my eldest.
It had been a great day out, and dry all day too.
I was having a bit of a mental slide into worries I neither needed nor deserved, but mostly I just wanted to sleep.
So that’s exactly what I did.
Sometimes there’s nothing else for it but to sleep it off.
The pub lunch was terrific and filled me up for the rest of the day, so I didn’t need anything else to eat.
Water and pills, and pills and water, became the name of the game.
When I woke, the house was in total silence.
I guessed it was late and felt guilty that I hadn’t shown my face to anyone since leaving the last pub.
The thing was, I just wanted to hide away and think about the problems I’d been keeping quiet about.
I’d made a bad financial decision and was paying for it mentally.
I couldn’t stop crying and the problem wouldn’t go away.
Very few people know about it and the situation is done and dusted, so I should be able to move on and settle back into life at my best friend’s house, where I feel safe, secure and loved.
I just can’t move on quite yet.
Perhaps in the morning I’ll get back into holiday mode.
The Mighty Hike is tomorrow.
My eldest is walking the twenty-six-odd miles all for Macmillan, and spending time with him today meant a lot.
I wish him well.
He’s doing it for me.
One thousand five hundred pounds is his sponsored total so far.
That will repay some of the wonderful things I’ve taken from this wonderful charity.
And to this fantastic website, where life and friendship are always at the fore.
Thank you, friends.
You know who you are.
Good night.
Take care.
Up the Mighty Hikers!
