Why is it we always need one more day to get ready for any event?
A week before the Rally all I had to do was plan the rideout and call in to the Hawkhurst chippy to negotiate a deal for our Saturday night feast and then check the camper and better have a look at the bike as well. Plenty of time to do all that!
A couple of phone calls were to change my plans. The first from Sybil saying Mick and Ann with a huge catering artic had offered to cater both breakfast and Saturday evening meal for us. I quickly agreed as it meant one of my jobs was now jobbed.
Next was a call from Phil of the Clarke variety saying fancy a ride tomorrow (Sunday) with the ‘Boys’ (Cliff and Roy) to sort the rideout?
What rideout? I haven’t planned it yet. But never the mind, on arriving at Phil’s the next morning to find Cliff had organised a route using Google Street and even printed route sheets. So another of my  jobs jobbed.
This meant I had no excuses for arriving late at Flimwell and for the first time was there to help put up the club marquee using the put it up at least 30 ft away from where you really want it technique so you go through the rigmarole of people holding a leg each and negotiating trees and goal posts to put it where you want it where you really want it.  Soon sorted, lights hung, genny fitted and ‘Sybs Cafe’ soon in full swing with teas, coffees and Chilli and Bolognese with Pasta and veggie dish all on the go.
Su was soon set up with Club Regalia and doing a roaring trade with some new items as well.
Arrivals were constant and the site started filling up nicely with both old and new friends. One being Chris, who gave up his Landy and trailer for us to collect wood for the bonfire and just about had  time to get his gear off before we disappeared with it.
As all my usual tasks had been sorted for me (even levelling the van was done without me thanks to our neighbour Snowy) I took over the cooking duties of stirring and serving  which means you get to meet everyone and they are nice to you while they’re holding their plates out.
With a marquee full of satisfied customers making noises resembling the frogs’ chorus we soon retired to the smoking room (bonfire) for our evenings entertainment of Cliff (Arthur not Richard) on his Ukulele and a young lad he’s been “grooming”  to accompany him. Alright that was me as well.
It seemed the more we drank the better we sounded  and by the end of the session the crowd were astounded at our ability to play two different songs at the same time and no one having a clue what either one was. Although our first gig together we had a secret ingredient planned for Saturday.
Saturday dawned bright and the breakfast at Mick and Ann’s went down well.  
At 10:30ish the rideout assembled and instructions and route sheets given but it was soon clear too many were confused by the symbols so a drop off system was used. The first part of the run went to Headcorn Aerodrome for teas and a look at the old aircraft and parachutists as well as the War Museum, which although we had checked the week before, was in fact closed. Tim arrived last on his Chief having suffered a broken chain but managed to fix it without getting his hands dirty but Paramedic Pete wasn’t so lucky and was smothered to the elbows in muck and grease. Never leave home without him!

 

The run part 2 was through some beautiful country and out on the marshes down to the quaint town of Rye. Parking was fun as the entrance was wide enough for solos but the three outfits had to perform a limbo under the barriers. We all split up to pubs, cafe’s and our group to a new American diner just round the corner for ice creams etc.  They also sell restored American cars but with very hefty price tags on the windscreen. One of our Phillips was seen leaving a large deposit on an Ice Cream Sundae but I don’t think they sold us any vehicles.  The route home was more direct and in separate groups and quite quick until we came to a group broken down outside the pub near the campsite, Tim, Ron Chris and others were working frantically on a Spitfire and other local brews and as Bootsies’  alcohol level had long since gone on to reserve,  we stopped to help. Luckily Jo, Su and Pauline with the breakdown wagon sailed straight passed our bunch so gave us time to finish the task in hand. Beers in hand we circumnavigated the pub once or twice to find the garden when the landlord came out to show us the way in. Thus finishing the rideout in traditional Indian style.
All suitably refreshed it was soon time to eat again, Mick and Ann had laid on chicken and chips etc and a very tasty looking veggie option which soon converted a few of our carnivores. 
Again a traditional Flimwell evening again with campfire and Cliff and myself on ukuleles with Roy  our roadie in charge of lighting (ie he had a torch). Our secret weapon was soon unveiled with the appearance (for one night only) Barry with his Indian red uke and Janine with a wooden frog with a scrapey thing on its back. Someone said we reminded them of the old 50’s group Novack an’ Goode when Tommy Steele joined them and they were Steele, Novack  an’ Goode.
Sunday after breakfast the few of us not packing up went for a ride to Ham Street autojumble and then on to Woodchurch to a pub known as the Kings Head to Cliff our leader but actually called something totally different.  Our mate Kieran runs a USO entertainment group and was performing there with 40’s dancers, Max Miller and singers etc so we had a little drink and a bite of lunch and leaving Roy and  Cliff  to watch the show, the Three Amigos, Phil, Bootsie and me headed back to camp to pack up our gear and head for home.
Sometimes late to arrive but always last to leave, unless Fred and Penny are staying, it was time to say goodbye to Flimwell (or as Sybil calls it “Never again”) after another successful rally.

 

Fred Woodgates