The Spit roast special was awoken to a rendition of the Royal Navy's "call the hands" at 08.52am, which I have to admit was warmly received by .......... no bastard!
Big Jock received a severe shellacking from Bomber and Jan P, with the added threat of having his mobile phone inserted so far up his South West passage that he'd be dialing his next number with his teeth! Thankfully the scene was completely different on Thunderbird 2, where they had been up for hours and were fully dressed and fully fed.
So some of us had a nice breakfast, others didn't. Bomber had Wheaties (bastard), Jan P had a day old egg sarnie and Big Jock had a large bunch of red grapes because the thieving pikey twats in Spit roast special kept nicking his provisions. "It's like living with a pack of raccoons I tells ya!"
With the weather still shite we headed to Ypres for a nice lunch at Vivaldi's and they didn't disappoint us. After lunch we had a good look around the Menin Gate, where Mouldy and Benger found the regiments that their grandfathers had served in during WW1.
(Addendum: whilst trying to write this, Bomber has been yip yap yip yapping in my starboard lughole and it has been feckin damn annoying ....... so shat up you Geordie caan't)
With the heavens in full flow Big Jock bought himself a ladies umbrella to fend off the ensuing H2O but it was as much use as a cling film windscreen on the space shuttle endeavour.
We headed off to Tyne Cot cemetery and the Spit roast special lost touch with Thunderbird 2.
(Addendum: For ease of typing, Spit roast special will now be referred to as SRS and Thunderbird 2 as T2)
Communications are now down and the tour has ground to a sudden halt. In good old traditional British fashion, the kettle is now on. More to follow shortly.......
T2 arrived about 20 minutes later and after lots of shellacking and disagreements about one-way streets and which direction you should travel down them, the boys went off to pay their respects to the fallen.
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