V.Comet and the newly anointed Hash Mattress led us a merry ankle snapping trot at our beach camp south of the picnic site. The humidity drained us of energy as we failed to find the on in. Until we did. On On the hares.
Suspicions were aroused as Klipe having chosen the site scarpered faster than you can say down down.
GPS and Chips led a lively and novel quiz, despite the attentions of the Wolfman, and all ended (by my reckoning) in a resounding draw.
Kluless followed his traditional chuckins with some bum-charades. Special mention has to go to the amazing(?) Snoop Dog.
The night, the beachside, the company, was magical. One by one we went to sleep; most abandoning hot steamy collapsed tents to snuggle up al fresco in the sand. The wind whistled and the hash snored.
Thanks to everyone.
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