That's How It Happened

Actually, as it happens, I was by some miracle not that hungover at all, though my stomach felt like it might explode. I suppose that I might have swallowed some North Sea or perhaps eaten some pebbles without realising it. Anything could have happened on that remote backwater beach somewhere near Great Yarmouth and Lowestoft. Here is the last known decent photo of my wedding jacket sans wine stain. Note the arrow showing exactly where the wine isn't. I suppose this is called comeuppance.

We invented a "new" game. Well we enjoyed it as if it were our first game of pat-a-cake. Standing on a slippery plastic tube, your opponent hurls a heavy ballistic polystyrene buoy at you in an effort to dislodge you while all you have to help you is a wooden stick. Jonky was pathetic at this while I took to head butting it (I need some excuse for my (f)ailing brain). Beforehand we had attempted a game of baseball using the buoy as a ball and the rubber pipe as a bat. Although amusing, it proved a little hard to hit the ball far enough to score. Can't resist it, and I have ages to redeem myself before the Doctor returns: Amusing, ball, hard, score. I got 14 from 16 right, not sure if that's a good thing or not.

Dr. Rufus did a hero's job of getting up at 5am to head home before continuing to the airport and thence on to Mexico where he would be able to compare the local beaches with the East Anglian coastline fresh in his mind. Rendering his organs useless before the trip was perhaps a masterstroke - one can only hope they check before they chop. Jonky and I went on to suffer a superb stuffing at the Crown and Castle. The hotel had a disturbing cat sleeping on a chair. Disturbing because it looked rather more real than stuffed. Then again, perhaps this is a theme at hotels these days...