Yup, the second stag do in the last couple of weeks! This time we went down to Wales for the weekend. We left on Friday afternoon and had a pretty boring drive down. When we got to the pub in Abergaveny (?) we grabbed a beer, dumped our crap in the rooms and then headed down to the bar we were staying in. Nothing too much happened – we just got pissed.
There was an eighteenth birthday party on in the pub with kareoke but I missed most of it cos you have to smoke outside down there. We did have a good laugh though, especially at Grit downing smirnoff ices with the locals until he was so fucked he couldn’t remember going to bed. Game over…
Next morning we were up for about half eight for breakfast then out the door to the raft building. Don’t know if it was Pete’s driving or the drink the night before but everyone felt like shit (apart from Scriv who was still pissed).
When we got to the car park, Scriv dived out of the car and ran across the car park shouting “Yo!”, then Oz climbed out and goes “That cunt is going back in your car”. Bloody kids. After a sixteen hour walk down to the beach we split into two teams – The Young Guns and The OFs (The Old Fuckers).
We were given four plastic barrels each, six planks of wood, half a dozen bits of rope and a safety lecture that nobody listened to. After that we were left to build the best damn raft in the world. The The OFs also built one. Since we were the engineering team ours was well sturdy but just to make sure, I nicked some of the rope from The OFs and since they are all a bit mutton, they didn’t notice.
We got ours into the river and did a couple of half mile rapid runs to make sure the beauty floated ok while them lot were still trying to lash something together. After a while they managed to get there’s into the river… and it fell apart and had to be dragged back in to shore for repairs. Eventually they managed to get something in the river which was good because we were getting bored paddling against the current and wanted the race to begin!
After a few minutes we were steaming ahead and leaving The OFs in our dust (or wake – I’m not sure), but unfortunately the instructor thought this was a bit boring and said we had to stand up on our raft. I managed to get up and then so did Steve, but then (as Pete put it) our raft exploded and we all ended up having to drag ours onto a nearby beach.
Luckily the others were having trouble with theirs as well and they had to limp into port just bairly holding the whole thing together. We all made some more emergency repairs on the beach and set of again with The OFs taking the lead this time but we managed to claw it back until we were neck and neck but thats when Screech decided they weren’t wet enough and started splashing them – which just made us fall back in again. This did some serious damage to our raft and we were really struggling to stay on the fucking thing! Mean time, the others were steadily getting away…
In the end we lost by miles, having to swim with our raft half the way and Clint the lazy twat just walking down the bank! Well done lads.
Next – paint ball!
