Pentlands chicanery!
What an all-round top week.
On Wednesday night I drove round to Jez' flat to show off the yuppie-mobile and to do a bit of route-planning for RT2. We've come up with a classic GT route that takes in lunch in SW1, a cruise through France and Belgium to the track, down to Luxembourg for par-taying in a Grand Duchy-stylee, two days with no planned route in Champagne (I know! Crazy. You just never know what's going to happen in this mad, mad middle-class life) and finally a sprint to Cherbourg or Le Havre to return.
Route duly planned, Jez proposed that we take a drive to his favourite road through the Pentlands. I thought why the hell not; I'm only just getting used to the car and some light hooning would be just the ticket to get to grips with it.
It was fucking mental. '70s headlight technology, a moonless sky and a wet single-track road do not engender a relaxing driving experience. Fortunately we didn't crash, the car handled it far better than I had expected and when we turned back to Edinburgh I was grinning like a fool.
I picked up Ashley from the airport on Thursday morning and took it rather easier on the way back into town. "I get motion sickness," she explained, and looked to be the picture of jetlagged bewilderment. I had visions of the Marvin-head-explosion scene from Pulp Fiction, only with, y'know, a stripey laugh, and took it even easier.
TM got together that night for another practice, and it rocked. Pure and simple. They're getting better each time. I think the presence of a new face has impelled us to get our shit together; trying to convince someone to join as a new vocalist is made rather easier when we don't play like we're all slightly stoned.
The weekend was a pleasing blur of light, heavy and moderate boozing with some general pootling around the flat and a narrowly avoided party apocalypse at Jez' flat in between. I am left tired but happy.
P.S. And I've got a torque wrench on order. I barely know what it does, but already I feel like a mechanic. What can possibly go wrong?
4 comments:
Party apocalypse? Why, what happened? That is actually a serious question, as I have no idea. At all. Other than knowing my flat was totally trashed. Jez
Uh, that was pretty much it: the trashing of your flat. We left early-ish (you may not quite recall that :) and fortunately didn't witness the later shenanigans/destruction.
Grand-Duchy is a fine place for a little pit stop: good beer and first-class Saab mechanics, you might need one. Luc
Hi, Luc! Uh, Jez and I were just about to email about coming to visit. Honest!
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