It's a beautiful day, and it's funny going away without monkey in the back demanding The Wiggles, or Peter Rabbit, or some snacks. Instead Kayosaurus makes us a picnic of sarnies and fruit, and we get some coffee and sweets on the way down.
We get down to Trenerry Farm in the amusingly-named hamlet of "Mingoose", just in time to disappear to the local for dinner.
"Local" is of course relative. Despite the fact everybody had already been there *and* a shortcut given to us by our slightly bonkers landlady, it still takes us about 4000 hours of wandering through coastal moors and tin mines until we get to the Driftwood Spars. Here we are en route:
The pub is great, the bits we were in were olde worlde open beams with a modern slightly souless restaurant bolted onto the side. Me and the Page drank locally-brewed ales, everybody else drank cider. Given we have to be fresh-faced in the morning, this is possibly a bad idea, and one made worse by the two-hour Cranium session when we got back. Surely this won't backfire on us?
sources
fish and chips & Sauvignon Blanc - the anas
burger and chips, Doom Bar & Bluehills Bitter - the russells
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