Reality News
Reality News
Don't
Stop
Me
Now.................................... 'cos I'm havin' a good time..............................
What a theme tune - sung non-stop in the bus on the way there and back with an energy, enthusiasm and abandonment which amazed us all and left us only wanting more .................breath!
How does it start? By an casual remark at the end of an alfresco lunch to close the summer term 2006 by Chris McNaught then, the Head of Services at Ballikinrain School to Richard Morrison. Something to the effect that there would also be a significant number of boys who would not leave the campus for the Christmas holiday because some parents would not be able to have them or want them at home otherwise it would spoil their own holiday plans. And Richard's similarly casual response 'Ah well, then we'd better run a New Year Houseparty for some of them instead!'
How is it taken on ? Midmorning on Thursday 28th December, the 17 seater minibus, already loaded up with an eager team of volunteers - Estelle, Laura, Esther, Jamie and Richard - complete with Christmas tree, decorations, presents and games, drove into Ballikinrain (the Church of Scotland residential school near Balfron) to collect 4 boys - Joe, Liam, Josh and Gerald with one very brave staff member, Damien. The weather was blustery and cold, the lads initially unsure of what to expect arrived with assorted bags and baggage and Damien rushed around like a sheepdog with a new field before settling into the school car - the new C Max. So we convoyed through the fog and rain to Perth railway station to pick up Edinburgh Willie, his guitar and juggling clubs (vital equipment) and out together for lunch .... at Bigmac's drive thru (lad's choice). Concoting countless stories enroute, we finally arrived at the correct affirmative answer to their non-stop repeated question 'are we there yet?'
The Coach House combined Excitement, Glee and Nosiness with more questions like, which room is yours ? which bed is mine ? which loo shall we use ? where's the tele ? when's lunch ?? Further explorations yielded Christmas boxes for the lads (convenient for storage) and a bit delayed gratification of a chocolate rush and while the minibus was unloaded, 2 teams were created with mascots (Reindeer and Beaver), a few simple rules set out, the rest of the day's programme outlined and everyone moved off to the glass porch. Orienteering seems to be something I once read about in Scouting for Boys or was it Winnie the Pooh (?) but at Compass, it is an art form which Joe the instructor endeavoured to translate into a language of practical usefulness. So in the falling light and amongst the tall pines around the house, markers were marked, paths were followed, papers were pricked and boundaries were reached - all to everyone's great satisfaction and relief. We were on a roll as we went into the Sports hall -football lasted about 10minutes which for some, was about 11 minutes too long. From a cupboard, the monstrous net was produced halving the hall - and everyone could join in. One volleyball game went into another and another and another : style combined with chance, skill with determination, experience with painful wrists. We needed a break only to plan out the activities for the evening before attention was diverted to the pool and tennis tables with table football as an aside and we had to dash out back to the glass porch to queue before dinner. Actually it was not a queue; queueing is a little known concept for Reality folk although waiting (the art of delayed gratification) is regarded as a strong informal skill to be acquired and comes with lots of other learning; in this case it was Joe's 'buddy' greetings / handshakes / body stuff from South Africa.
Dinner at Compass is a good, nay great reason to get there on time - and that is all this writer will say on the subject on this occasion (but have you read the previous blog?).. Everyone agreed is was a great meal - lots of it - and seconds - and everyone was stuffed!! (A simple but understated fact). This could only be followed by a semi energetic,and slightly unwilling-at-first walk down the lane - hardly in the moonlight - rather a pale freezing fog with a lighter wet covering on the road surface - which was the cause of Euan's car in the ditch halfway down to the main road, just round the slight left-hand bend. Arriving at the spot guarded by the Compass tractor, the lads were suitably impressed by Euan's escape, his apparent good humour and the perceived impossibility of getting the vehicle removed from such a position - all very serious and significant as we dawdled back.
TTI (Time To Imagine) was a 2 parter based roughly on the Bible story of the first Christmas stargazers. Part 1 was about the well-known magi who joined the dots, followed the star and discovered that GOD believed in them possibly more than they had believed in Him - all through a radio script, Jamie's true story,a game and a song. Amazing to think that 30 minutes could go so quickly and it seemed quite acceptable. This was followed by a d-i-y presentation (talent show) called 'You're a Star' which featured more music, McFly, 'guess who' type impersonations of things, juggling balls, clubs and rings and a few silly camp fire joke things which went down a treat. There was barely enough time to have a game of pool and table football before we went up to the lounge on the ladies' floor for supper.
Tasteful - a multi-meaning description of the lounge, with Christmas tree, lights, sprigs of holly, a ELC manger scene, a tableful of food including chocolate this and that, drinks and all to be eaten whilst lounging around on comfortable chairs or bean bags wearing blankets and duvets, and watching the wall projected DVD of 'Cheaper by the dozen - Part 2'. A great movie - the sound was good, the action good, the story line good and no-one fell asleep, even though I suspect that the majority of us may have seen it quite a number of times already. As it was getting on to 11pm, there was still time for the lads to have 2 more dorm-time activities in their beds - Uno the card game once known as Switch which for 2 lads was quite new and for the other two, a little restrained from the usual Marquis of Queensbury rules they had known. After a couple of rounds, Estelle came in and read aloud the Max Lucardo story 'You are special' which seemed to well sum up the day.
.....And just when we thought, the day was settled, there was the usual discovery of their apparent inability to fall asleep but this was only amongst the lads as the adults drifted away.............................
Don't
Stop
Me
Now....................................
It was Damien's choice. He would wake up the lads. Sensible and appropriate. For the lads to be confronted by a team full of bonhommie and urgency, sweet singing and sound exhortations would have sounded like a the Final Call. So the rest of us met upstairs, hairdrying, exploring the remedial effects of tea and coffee, time to pray, plan and gaze vacantly at one another until the overwhelming need to assist Damien on the floor below overtook us. (Nice play on words, ambiguity of meaning and terrible writing). First thing in the morning, still asleep, 20 minutes before breakfast, lightly raining outside and you're called into action to test the showers - who would be a 10 year old ??
It worked - and we all assembled for breakfast in the main house unaware of the efforts of the catering which preceeded us. There arose the usual philosophical rather than ethical questions, viz how many sausages can be fitted into a bap, should they be covered with ketchup or chocolate spread and is it possible to eat it all without resorting to knife and fork? Should porage / porrige / porridge preceed or follow the meat course? Does Joe the Instructor really put orange juice on his All Bran? Is Joe the lad a hunter-gatherer, roaming the length and breadth of the dining area? How many sandwiches will I need to make now when I am feeling stuffed, for lunch in 4 hours time?
Refreshed, tanked up and ready to rumble, we moved off in formation to the climbing wall, for the best ever climbing session I've been to. Four instructors, ropes, belays, equipment all in position; the lads and team kitted up, warmed up and no waiting sir. It lasted about an hour; everyone was moving around the walls, the floors, the instructors - coming off one pitch onto another, repeats welcome to get to the top faster, more efficiently, along harder routes. You return to earth and find yourself getting your breath back whilst another is hooking you up for your next attempt. And all the time, the climbing hall echoes to shouts of encouragement, instruction and conversations. All the lads succeeded. It was wonderful. All the team did what they wanted to. Brilliant. Everyone appeared in someone's photos!!
After the high.... well... we had to be a bit more realistic and insist that everyone needed to join the fashion parade of outdoor waterproof apparel - in this year's colours : a fetching red, blue and green. The result was that Willie became a human Christmas tree, Estelle a strawberry and Euan, being an instructor emeritus, wore Spiderman trousers! Then like bedraggled refugees from a rain carnival, with assorted backpacks, torches, sweets and maps, we piled into the bus and drove to Enochdhru, abut 10 miles away, the other side of Kirkmichael. Outside, the rain suddenly got worse. Not too cold. Just more wet. Everywhere.
And so it was that we arrived. 'Eager' would be a tad strong to describe the bounding emotion in our hearts as we splashed out into the carpark at the bottom of the trail. 'Enthusiastic' might describe the first step along the path, but not the second ... and by the time we had walked the first 100metres, a gap had developed in the ranks - between the walkers and the ...um ... and the ... strollers, no - wrong word; dawdlers - too harsh; and those interested in every wayside opportunity to stop and explore.... Only another 8 miles to go!!
Actually, it became a great walk. True, it got muddier; true, the gap widened and the walking stopped to allow catch-up time; true, lunch seemed like a mirage. (Spot the inane metaphor). But as the walk progressed, more and more objects became significant, conversations developed and relationships were deepened. Euan had been this way before and seemed to know everything from how sheep get curly-wurly horns to spotting that crows are not buzzards, that trying to walk along stacks of chopped timber is a H & S no-no, and having survival stories which would put Mears to the test. He can also walk in the coldest rain without gloves but that may be his showpiece physiological strength!! Through his leadership, we discovered ourselves in a universal treasure hunt (GOstash/cache ???) all played with websites, Global Navigational Systems, plastic boxes and the rain! We found two boxes, along the trail, checked out the treasure, added nothing to the contents but recorded our find and replaced the boxes - just as we had found them!! We also found a deer's head complete with teeth but without antlers; a distinctive stone in the middle of the drover's path we were taking, covered with fossilised vegetation about a squillion years old and discovered that the plantation of pine we were walking through was 20 years old and might require a further 20 -40 years of growth before being ready for the chop (whereas in RSA, they would be now mature enough.) It's the Scottish light on development!! We bounded heather, crossed braes, ascended over giant stiles and dragged ourselves along the muddying track as the rain closed in on us. For about an hour,we looked out for the lunch spot until hunger cut us down - to making a stop to put up a non-inflatable shelter. It was then we discovered that the planned stop was just down the hill, up the next slope and round the next bend into a sheltered hollow. Just shows what a fold in a map can do.
There it was in all it's splendour - the high lunch stop, said to have been specially constructed for Queen Victoria for such a purpose as she cantered her way between Enochdhu and Spittal of Glenshee last week....Wooden throughout, candle-lit, no toilets, cold and cold running fresh outside. Bliss (in the non-nirvana, non-chocolate, non DFS sense). Sandwiches retrieved, tea and hot juice flasks out, sitting down together on timber forms in front of a huge table in a flickering light, sharing out food and good, relaxed laughs with a sense of acheivement. You could have almost made it another Last Supper, Michael.
At this point, this writer had to leave to return the 6 miles back down the trail to collect the bus whilst the others had only 2 more miles to go to their destination ....................in the unrelenting rain, the icy blasts, the loneliness of the long distance runner, the opportunity to converse satisfactorily with oneself, to pray for all those who came to mind, to stop for breath without consideration of others.... yes!! The rest of the party saw a herd of of reindeer, playing football like Santa's B team, in the near distance and came to the end of the trail with a piece of sliding down the grassy trail for 5o metres, so I am told.
Retrieving the bus, having completed the return journey in less than 50% of the time to get there, if you follow, only one incident stands out. The puddle across the road outside Kirkmichael had on my return grown to a flood or at least, a ford dimension. When confronted by a single vehicular headlamp from the opposite direction, I decided to let this obviously disadvantaged vehicle proceed first. The convoy of 3 black superbikes driven by muscular demi-gods in leather, complete with huge, stylish, brightly painted sidecars completed with similarly clad companions of the female variety slowly and triumphantly cruised across the waters. Did I spot any anxiety in their faces as the sidecars appeared to float a little? Not at all - the curl of their bow waves matched the confidence of the concentration in their faces as they didn't even register my presence or my drooling expression at their craft. As I said earlier, it's a question of the Scottish light!
Rejoining the rest of the safari in the carpark of the hotel at Spittal, we damply drove, steamingly back to Compass - a bit muted possibly ... or dreaming of the layovers in the showers to come.
Reinforced by tea and dry clothes, we were still up for it, as they say. Back to the Games Room for the Giant Jenga Championship - a competition with all the gravity of a chess tournament, with the eager wished-for participation of the audience as in 'try this one here' and the aerobic exchange of breathlessness as the brick is slowly drawn out and placed on top of the ascending structure. It lasted until dinner - two games - no one left the arena - and the collapse in both cases was excellent.
Dinner passed as in a feeding frenzy reminiscient of a shark attack. Nothing was left to chance. Everything was attempted. It worked. How it worked,mmmmmmmmmmmmh!
Now we all knew how to make it happen. Back for TTI - Stargazers Part 2, the story of the shepherd who lost his fear of the dark as the celestial beings switched on all the lights for the LIGHT of the World, plus Estelle's personal story, a wee song and then on to the arty project for the night. This was a chance to paint - well, splatter paint across paper in some sort of pre-determined manner, or to use felt-tips or crayons, to make something to remind each of us of something special of this day. Food was not attempted but the minibus was; the metaphors of light
were out as were the deer and the rain. Everything produced a WOW response and the completed items were later taken home. A couple of the lads found it to be NOT their thing whilst all the adults loved the chance to be kids again!
Back to the lounge for supper and the DVD as last night. Warm, comfortable, filling, sleepy-ish, with 'Elf', funny, good aaaaah factor. No time for a game of Uno, just Laura reading the bedtime story and ......................zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz4ALL. I wonder why?
Don't
Stop
Me
Now.............................................................................................................
Saturday morning - just 10 hours to go; will we keep up the momentum? Can Bob fixit ? Is Homer Simpson married? Will Beckham ever play for West Ham ?
Damien is a hero. Gets the gang out of bed, steers then towards the showers, redirects them to their clothes, moves them from a semi-somnabulistic state to a near-life experience, out of the bedroom to breakfast. The rest of us nod approvingly and with gratitude. Whose prayers are being answered?
Cue the music. Seated at the dining table, expectant looks all round. Yes, it's the waffles. Oh, can there be a better after-life ? AND after the porage! 20 minutes later, sprawled bodies round the tables of shared and scattered plates, the equivalent of drunken faces replete from cream, soft fruit, cream, biscuit base, cream .........
Back to work. Pack up your bags, clear up your rooms, fold up the dirty linen. It's a grim start. The low ropes a bit of a hit and miss. It must be about a degree of tiredness that has set in or it might be the start of a cold. Richard is sorting and loading the bus. It's archery. No, it's bows and arrers in the sports hall - golds and reds all round. Climbing the extra tall tree by the path. Hit the hooter at the top and be in suspended animation as you descend. Then it's volleyball for all. We're getting there. The weather has lightened. It's beautiful here. The staff are preparing to receive more guests for the New Year at Compass, but we have had the best time ever. Everyone is having a good time.
Don't
Stop
Me
Now.................................... 'cos I'm havin' a good time..............................
What a theme tune - sung non-stop in the bus on the way there and back with an energy, enthusiasm and abandonment which amazed us all and left us only wanting more .................breath!
How does it start? By an casual remark at the end of an alfresco lunch to close the summer term 2006 by Chris McNaught then, the Head of Services at Ballikinrain School to Richard Morrison. Something to the effect that there would also be a significant number of boys who would not leave the campus for the Christmas holiday because some parents would not be able to have them or want them at home otherwise it would spoil their own holiday plans. And Richard's similarly casual response 'Ah well, then we'd better run a New Year Houseparty for some of them instead!'
How is it taken on ? Midmorning on Thursday 28th December, the 17 seater minibus, already loaded up with an eager team of volunteers - Estelle, Laura, Esther, Jamie and Richard - complete with Christmas tree, decorations, presents and games, drove into Ballikinrain (the Church of Scotland residential school near Balfron) to collect 4 boys - Joe, Liam, Josh and Gerald with one very brave staff member, Damien. The weather was blustery and cold, the lads initially unsure of what to expect arrived with assorted bags and baggage and Damien rushed around like a sheepdog with a new field before settling into the school car - the new C Max. So we convoyed through the fog and rain to Perth railway station to pick up Edinburgh Willie, his guitar and juggling clubs (vital equipment) and out together for lunch .... at Bigmac's drive thru (lad's choice). Concoting countless stories enroute, we finally arrived at the correct affirmative answer to their non-stop repeated question 'are we there yet?'
The Coach House combined Excitement, Glee and Nosiness with more questions like, which room is yours ? which bed is mine ? which loo shall we use ? where's the tele ? when's lunch ?? Further explorations yielded Christmas boxes for the lads (convenient for storage) and a bit delayed gratification of a chocolate rush and while the minibus was unloaded, 2 teams were created with mascots (Reindeer and Beaver), a few simple rules set out, the rest of the day's programme outlined and everyone moved off to the glass porch. Orienteering seems to be something I once read about in Scouting for Boys or was it Winnie the Pooh (?) but at Compass, it is an art form which Joe the instructor endeavoured to translate into a language of practical usefulness. So in the falling light and amongst the tall pines around the house, markers were marked, paths were followed, papers were pricked and boundaries were reached - all to everyone's great satisfaction and relief. We were on a roll as we went into the Sports hall -football lasted about 10minutes which for some, was about 11 minutes too long. From a cupboard, the monstrous net was produced halving the hall - and everyone could join in. One volleyball game went into another and another and another : style combined with chance, skill with determination, experience with painful wrists. We needed a break only to plan out the activities for the evening before attention was diverted to the pool and tennis tables with table football as an aside and we had to dash out back to the glass porch to queue before dinner. Actually it was not a queue; queueing is a little known concept for Reality folk although waiting (the art of delayed gratification) is regarded as a strong informal skill to be acquired and comes with lots of other learning; in this case it was Joe's 'buddy' greetings / handshakes / body stuff from South Africa.
Dinner at Compass is a good, nay great reason to get there on time - and that is all this writer will say on the subject on this occasion (but have you read the previous blog?).. Everyone agreed is was a great meal - lots of it - and seconds - and everyone was stuffed!! (A simple but understated fact). This could only be followed by a semi energetic,and slightly unwilling-at-first walk down the lane - hardly in the moonlight - rather a pale freezing fog with a lighter wet covering on the road surface - which was the cause of Euan's car in the ditch halfway down to the main road, just round the slight left-hand bend. Arriving at the spot guarded by the Compass tractor, the lads were suitably impressed by Euan's escape, his apparent good humour and the perceived impossibility of getting the vehicle removed from such a position - all very serious and significant as we dawdled back.
TTI (Time To Imagine) was a 2 parter based roughly on the Bible story of the first Christmas stargazers. Part 1 was about the well-known magi who joined the dots, followed the star and discovered that GOD believed in them possibly more than they had believed in Him - all through a radio script, Jamie's true story,a game and a song. Amazing to think that 30 minutes could go so quickly and it seemed quite acceptable. This was followed by a d-i-y presentation (talent show) called 'You're a Star' which featured more music, McFly, 'guess who' type impersonations of things, juggling balls, clubs and rings and a few silly camp fire joke things which went down a treat. There was barely enough time to have a game of pool and table football before we went up to the lounge on the ladies' floor for supper.
Tasteful - a multi-meaning description of the lounge, with Christmas tree, lights, sprigs of holly, a ELC manger scene, a tableful of food including chocolate this and that, drinks and all to be eaten whilst lounging around on comfortable chairs or bean bags wearing blankets and duvets, and watching the wall projected DVD of 'Cheaper by the dozen - Part 2'. A great movie - the sound was good, the action good, the story line good and no-one fell asleep, even though I suspect that the majority of us may have seen it quite a number of times already. As it was getting on to 11pm, there was still time for the lads to have 2 more dorm-time activities in their beds - Uno the card game once known as Switch which for 2 lads was quite new and for the other two, a little restrained from the usual Marquis of Queensbury rules they had known. After a couple of rounds, Estelle came in and read aloud the Max Lucardo story 'You are special' which seemed to well sum up the day.
.....And just when we thought, the day was settled, there was the usual discovery of their apparent inability to fall asleep but this was only amongst the lads as the adults drifted away.............................
Don't
Stop
Me
Now....................................
It was Damien's choice. He would wake up the lads. Sensible and appropriate. For the lads to be confronted by a team full of bonhommie and urgency, sweet singing and sound exhortations would have sounded like a the Final Call. So the rest of us met upstairs, hairdrying, exploring the remedial effects of tea and coffee, time to pray, plan and gaze vacantly at one another until the overwhelming need to assist Damien on the floor below overtook us. (Nice play on words, ambiguity of meaning and terrible writing). First thing in the morning, still asleep, 20 minutes before breakfast, lightly raining outside and you're called into action to test the showers - who would be a 10 year old ??
It worked - and we all assembled for breakfast in the main house unaware of the efforts of the catering which preceeded us. There arose the usual philosophical rather than ethical questions, viz how many sausages can be fitted into a bap, should they be covered with ketchup or chocolate spread and is it possible to eat it all without resorting to knife and fork? Should porage / porrige / porridge preceed or follow the meat course? Does Joe the Instructor really put orange juice on his All Bran? Is Joe the lad a hunter-gatherer, roaming the length and breadth of the dining area? How many sandwiches will I need to make now when I am feeling stuffed, for lunch in 4 hours time?
Refreshed, tanked up and ready to rumble, we moved off in formation to the climbing wall, for the best ever climbing session I've been to. Four instructors, ropes, belays, equipment all in position; the lads and team kitted up, warmed up and no waiting sir. It lasted about an hour; everyone was moving around the walls, the floors, the instructors - coming off one pitch onto another, repeats welcome to get to the top faster, more efficiently, along harder routes. You return to earth and find yourself getting your breath back whilst another is hooking you up for your next attempt. And all the time, the climbing hall echoes to shouts of encouragement, instruction and conversations. All the lads succeeded. It was wonderful. All the team did what they wanted to. Brilliant. Everyone appeared in someone's photos!!
After the high.... well... we had to be a bit more realistic and insist that everyone needed to join the fashion parade of outdoor waterproof apparel - in this year's colours : a fetching red, blue and green. The result was that Willie became a human Christmas tree, Estelle a strawberry and Euan, being an instructor emeritus, wore Spiderman trousers! Then like bedraggled refugees from a rain carnival, with assorted backpacks, torches, sweets and maps, we piled into the bus and drove to Enochdhru, abut 10 miles away, the other side of Kirkmichael. Outside, the rain suddenly got worse. Not too cold. Just more wet. Everywhere.
And so it was that we arrived. 'Eager' would be a tad strong to describe the bounding emotion in our hearts as we splashed out into the carpark at the bottom of the trail. 'Enthusiastic' might describe the first step along the path, but not the second ... and by the time we had walked the first 100metres, a gap had developed in the ranks - between the walkers and the ...um ... and the ... strollers, no - wrong word; dawdlers - too harsh; and those interested in every wayside opportunity to stop and explore.... Only another 8 miles to go!!
Actually, it became a great walk. True, it got muddier; true, the gap widened and the walking stopped to allow catch-up time; true, lunch seemed like a mirage. (Spot the inane metaphor). But as the walk progressed, more and more objects became significant, conversations developed and relationships were deepened. Euan had been this way before and seemed to know everything from how sheep get curly-wurly horns to spotting that crows are not buzzards, that trying to walk along stacks of chopped timber is a H & S no-no, and having survival stories which would put Mears to the test. He can also walk in the coldest rain without gloves but that may be his showpiece physiological strength!! Through his leadership, we discovered ourselves in a universal treasure hunt (GOstash/cache ???) all played with websites, Global Navigational Systems, plastic boxes and the rain! We found two boxes, along the trail, checked out the treasure, added nothing to the contents but recorded our find and replaced the boxes - just as we had found them!! We also found a deer's head complete with teeth but without antlers; a distinctive stone in the middle of the drover's path we were taking, covered with fossilised vegetation about a squillion years old and discovered that the plantation of pine we were walking through was 20 years old and might require a further 20 -40 years of growth before being ready for the chop (whereas in RSA, they would be now mature enough.) It's the Scottish light on development!! We bounded heather, crossed braes, ascended over giant stiles and dragged ourselves along the muddying track as the rain closed in on us. For about an hour,we looked out for the lunch spot until hunger cut us down - to making a stop to put up a non-inflatable shelter. It was then we discovered that the planned stop was just down the hill, up the next slope and round the next bend into a sheltered hollow. Just shows what a fold in a map can do.
There it was in all it's splendour - the high lunch stop, said to have been specially constructed for Queen Victoria for such a purpose as she cantered her way between Enochdhu and Spittal of Glenshee last week....Wooden throughout, candle-lit, no toilets, cold and cold running fresh outside. Bliss (in the non-nirvana, non-chocolate, non DFS sense). Sandwiches retrieved, tea and hot juice flasks out, sitting down together on timber forms in front of a huge table in a flickering light, sharing out food and good, relaxed laughs with a sense of acheivement. You could have almost made it another Last Supper, Michael.
At this point, this writer had to leave to return the 6 miles back down the trail to collect the bus whilst the others had only 2 more miles to go to their destination ....................in the unrelenting rain, the icy blasts, the loneliness of the long distance runner, the opportunity to converse satisfactorily with oneself, to pray for all those who came to mind, to stop for breath without consideration of others.... yes!! The rest of the party saw a herd of of reindeer, playing football like Santa's B team, in the near distance and came to the end of the trail with a piece of sliding down the grassy trail for 5o metres, so I am told.
Retrieving the bus, having completed the return journey in less than 50% of the time to get there, if you follow, only one incident stands out. The puddle across the road outside Kirkmichael had on my return grown to a flood or at least, a ford dimension. When confronted by a single vehicular headlamp from the opposite direction, I decided to let this obviously disadvantaged vehicle proceed first. The convoy of 3 black superbikes driven by muscular demi-gods in leather, complete with huge, stylish, brightly painted sidecars completed with similarly clad companions of the female variety slowly and triumphantly cruised across the waters. Did I spot any anxiety in their faces as the sidecars appeared to float a little? Not at all - the curl of their bow waves matched the confidence of the concentration in their faces as they didn't even register my presence or my drooling expression at their craft. As I said earlier, it's a question of the Scottish light!
Rejoining the rest of the safari in the carpark of the hotel at Spittal, we damply drove, steamingly back to Compass - a bit muted possibly ... or dreaming of the layovers in the showers to come.
Reinforced by tea and dry clothes, we were still up for it, as they say. Back to the Games Room for the Giant Jenga Championship - a competition with all the gravity of a chess tournament, with the eager wished-for participation of the audience as in 'try this one here' and the aerobic exchange of breathlessness as the brick is slowly drawn out and placed on top of the ascending structure. It lasted until dinner - two games - no one left the arena - and the collapse in both cases was excellent.
Dinner passed as in a feeding frenzy reminiscient of a shark attack. Nothing was left to chance. Everything was attempted. It worked. How it worked,mmmmmmmmmmmmh!
Now we all knew how to make it happen. Back for TTI - Stargazers Part 2, the story of the shepherd who lost his fear of the dark as the celestial beings switched on all the lights for the LIGHT of the World, plus Estelle's personal story, a wee song and then on to the arty project for the night. This was a chance to paint - well, splatter paint across paper in some sort of pre-determined manner, or to use felt-tips or crayons, to make something to remind each of us of something special of this day. Food was not attempted but the minibus was; the metaphors of light
were out as were the deer and the rain. Everything produced a WOW response and the completed items were later taken home. A couple of the lads found it to be NOT their thing whilst all the adults loved the chance to be kids again!
Back to the lounge for supper and the DVD as last night. Warm, comfortable, filling, sleepy-ish, with 'Elf', funny, good aaaaah factor. No time for a game of Uno, just Laura reading the bedtime story and ......................zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz4ALL. I wonder why?
Don't
Stop
Me
Now.............................................................................................................
Saturday morning - just 10 hours to go; will we keep up the momentum? Can Bob fixit ? Is Homer Simpson married? Will Beckham ever play for West Ham ?
Damien is a hero. Gets the gang out of bed, steers then towards the showers, redirects them to their clothes, moves them from a semi-somnabulistic state to a near-life experience, out of the bedroom to breakfast. The rest of us nod approvingly and with gratitude. Whose prayers are being answered?
Cue the music. Seated at the dining table, expectant looks all round. Yes, it's the waffles. Oh, can there be a better after-life ? AND after the porage! 20 minutes later, sprawled bodies round the tables of shared and scattered plates, the equivalent of drunken faces replete from cream, soft fruit, cream, biscuit base, cream .........
Back to work. Pack up your bags, clear up your rooms, fold up the dirty linen. It's a grim start. The low ropes a bit of a hit and miss. It must be about a degree of tiredness that has set in or it might be the start of a cold. Richard is sorting and loading the bus. It's archery. No, it's bows and arrers in the sports hall - golds and reds all round. Climbing the extra tall tree by the path. Hit the hooter at the top and be in suspended animation as you descend. Then it's volleyball for all. We're getting there. The weather has lightened. It's beautiful here. The staff are preparing to receive more guests for the New Year at Compass, but we have had the best time ever. Everyone is having a good time.
Lunch already - the soup has gone, even the seconds. Sandwich making - we're Masters now; got all the combinations, even eating the crusts, fruit and biscuits. Can we get enough fuel on board until we get back to Ballikinrain ? Is there enough time for a final game of volleyball? So much to do and so little time.
STOP - a time to make the most of the leaving of Compass. All upstairs into the games room. A quiet sit down in a circle for talking it over and completing the evaluation forms, a round of thanks and appreciations to all, handing out of certificates for skills developed and for team spirit demonstrated and then the final surprise. Two team members who couldn't be with us have donated presents for each lad, beautifully wrapped - a token of their feelings for these lads which capture all that those present in the team have been wanting to give and show. Top drawer biscuits for nourishment, selection packs of chocs for enjoyment and an MR3/CD player for the journey. Stay with us and we'll listen together. The last team photos - the beaver and the reindeer mascots. Everyone smiles. Everyone.
The bus is crowded with bags and beginning to steam. The road winds away from the handshakes and goodbyes and thanks with the Compass staff. Willie catches his homeward train to Edinburgh. In my mind is a picture and sounds of Simon and Garfunkel. We take off through the Perth traffic. Still no-one has fallen asleep and no-one has been travel sick. The sun screams a last goodbye on the drive south to Stirling. It's dark through the Forth Valley but the singing is just as fervent . Speculation as to whether Damein has overtaken us already. Cheers as we advance up the Ballikinrain drive. We have made it!! BIG thanks as Daniem appears with flowers and chocs for the team. See you soon. Enjoy your break. Keep in touch. We will.
Don't
stop
me
now
posted by Reality at
5:30 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home