damerell

This is going to be rather more of a potted summary than my last Whitby writeup, but here goes...


I hadn't really meant to go to October Whitby this year, but a week beforehand Doktor Joy posted to upg saying that he'd be taking an empty car up otherwise, and I mentioned this on IRC to LNR who said she and EJ were in a room for three, and EJ didn't mind, and Andrew had a spare Spa ticket... and before I knew where I was the whole plan had come together.

Starting with a 15-mile bike ride over to Slough imposes a certain luggage discipline; I must have been the only person in Whitby with only one pair of footwear. This didn't work out so badly, though, since Dok turned out to have all the luggage in the world and also to be picking up a Swedish goth (I have not forgotten her name, honest) at Heathrow.

Hours later - although, boy, don't those hills go by faster when you aren't pushing a bike up them - we arrive in Whitby, and with only one accidental trip up and down the hill I catch up with LNR and EJ and get my stuff dropped in the hotel, which is on the Crescent above the Spa - handy for that, awkward for Laughtons...

Then BEER. EJ was a trifle tired; LNR and I had a go at Creamy, but it didn't really work so we retired to the Elsie, which closed rather late, but not as late as the hotel bar - I hear afterwards the barman had his first hangover for 23 years. I had one too but LNR carefully avoided it with a "being sick" strategy.

Up on Friday with the usual cries of "WHY did we DRINK so MUCH?" and down to the Spa where I spent the princely sum of ten quid on one Cauda Pavonis CD while the others bought corsets (and had to try them on, to what was obviously my shock and surprise); I found a nice second-hand leather waistcoat which, alas, would have fitted Davefish just fine.

That evening; The Modern (of whom I'd never heard) surprisingly good - but their Webshite's a steaming mass of Flash. Dear band, I'm not going to come to gigs if I can't find out WHEN THEY ARE! Katscan and Mechanical Cabaret - who I gather are mostly the same people, they could at least change hats - not very good. Doctor and the Medics, to my intense surprise, actually rocked; sure, they're a cheesy covers band, but they're damned good at it. Not very drunk; a certain amount of angst, but let's not go into that. Being sober let me discover that LNR and EJ between them have the most amazing combined snoring ability.

Saturday mostly more of the same, except for sleeping more once the room wasn't full of snoring girls, but drunker at the Spa since the bands weren't really much cop. Met Libby. Karen's outfit was pretty spectacular.

Sunday pleasant (educational, no less) boat ride with LNR in 40% scale model of Captain Cook's ship. I wouldn't care to spend a year even in something 2 1/2 times as big. Down to pebbly beach, nearly fell in the sea; it turns out my Army surplus have less traction than her DMs, something I discovered as I slid - still upright - down the green slimy section of a slipway, but I managed to get a hand down in time.

I went off after a good Sunday lunch to see the football match - it turns out that football can be fun with the right hecklers and that goths don't play as well as a team who actually know each other, practice, and aren't variously hung over or drunk. I also imagine regular pitch invasions don't consist of four goth girls and an inflatable Dalek.

Then off to Laughtons for the 80s night, which isn't *quite* a B-Movie 80s special. Dok turned up and asked if I minded staying an extra day, which I dithered over for literally seconds. Drank a little, bounced a lot, pummeled sweaty punks, tried to find a safe place to hang onto people in the conga line, tried and failed to find a safe place to spin LNR right round like a record baby (we ended up just fending off the DJ booth every time it came by). It finished too soon - but a pretty good night. Staggered up the hill (once the endorphins wear off you're going nowhere but faceplanted) and collapsed.

Monday dawned bright and late - while the other two went to a wedding I slept in, then attempted to buy pants. You can't buy pants in Whitby; there's no Marks and Spencers. I did, however, manage to chase around with Libby and Rachel and buy second-hand books. Eventually roused EJ and LNR and the five of us went to the beach party with Dick Turnip (a turnip with a face and a candle); the fireworks were pretty good, but eventually we got a bit too cold and retired to Libby and Rachel's cottage, where I was very impressed. Finally, my one and only trip up to the Abbey just to look around, and then off to bed eventually.

We crammed five people into Dok's car - dropping two at Scarborough, fortunately, and then the rest of us came back down London-wards. Anna passed out in the back, but Dok kindly (didn't pass out, since he was driving, and) listened to my complicated tale of woe; that got us most of the way to Slough and then I just had to haul the bike back home and collapse.

I'm not listing LJ IDs 'cos generally you know who people are.