Ian’s Piggy Bank winced as the hammer swung down towards him. ”Ooooh
nooooo” he thought, “why can’t he remove the bung like everyone else.”
a CRASH! SMACK! WALLOPY! KERCHUNG! the change came pouring out Hoorah £62. 2
buttons and a washer (oh not a washer one of those Danish coins with a hole in)
let's go and party.
Firstly using the £2 for extra lottery tickets (National lottery equals
Ian wants a wildy fund, this was later to prove a waste of time and effort) and
off to meet the others, sadly less Nick who had fallen early in battle while
sandwich making, at Clackets Lane
to rally organisers all rallies should be sign posted from M25 even the
Sean and Leigh from the Crusaders had kindly offered to put us up (and
seemingly half of the VSOC) for the evening at their mansion near Colchester,
“International City of Roundabouts 2003” So that the next day we could head
off early to Harwich and the boat to Holland. We were to be in the Vanguard of
the Rejects party ensemble, over 20 Rejects were expected to come and play.
Not unlike the D Day landings just over 60 years ago, so nearly 300 VSOC
party animals invaded Holland from England. (Well ok so D Day was France, but
grant me some poetic licence please) and upon reaching Harwich we were to make
up the first group of 56 bikes.
We were soon at Holland and it was a tad damp, but the smiling Dutch were
there to greet us, and so we headed off on the 100-mile trip to the site. Now
there have been several theories about what happened next, from heavy traffic to
rush hour etc, but the few of us who were in Denmark 2002 know the real answer,
that it is divine retribution for getting the Dutch lost on a ride out (The fact
we did not know they were following does not seem to matter). Either way 13 of
us were sat on the hard shoulder of a busy intersection, Thankfully Carol and a
few other Saxons, had a map, I had the Internet paperwork, we also had the
secret weapon of AL, who somehow can find places. Hours of filtering later and
we reach the site; woo hoo, and only just a short while after the others.
Well-done Al. Especially as it was later found the Tail end Charlie (also a
Saxon) had a GPS system.
So there we were in front of the gate and we were presented with a shot
glass of something lethal, a quick swig and I was not unsure I shouldn’t have
put it in the tank as a fuel additive. I think the guys on the gate had been on
this for some time, as entrance fees did fluctuate.
Finding the others I was pointed in the direction of the designated
“snoring area” (thankfully a non ant infested area as well) tent and gazebo
up it was time to explore.
With the amount from the UK expected the site was split onto 2 football
pitches, mainly UK on one and the Dutch etc on the other. There was a good
selection of bikes as well, I haven’t seen which passed a few pleasant hours.
bar was soon found, blue tokens (beer and food) sourced, Sausage and chips eaten
and a chilled out evening chatting to the early starters ensued. With a mellow
head I headed back…
The next day arose too bright and early for some, and we all staggered
around until coffee and breakfast was ready, a very leisurely and relaxed 9am.
(We were all desperate by then) A little later on a ride out was planned to a
Harley Davidson Museum, several went, many were left nursing thick heads. The
rest of us went to the delightful local town for a little light shopping, a
rather pleasant lunch and a few beers.
More gossip and an attempt at erecting a new flag pole, and flying a big
black sausage kept us busy for a while, or sampling the joys of the outdoor bar,
until the next contingent arrived. Hoorah that meant all 21 of the Rejects party
crew was in attendance. Cramming tents in as close as possible was the next
game, despite the abundance of space. With Mr Kipling parked near at least an
early morning tea was possible due to his ever boiling kettle.
With the party in full swing, we strutted our funky stuff to a seriously
good band, met old friends and made new ones. Bob, Otto, Les and Dave, who gave
it their best doing the Blues Brothers, then serenaded us. What a crack that
Our chairman, and also our party hosts spoke a few words of welcome, and
then it was back to the partying. With a crack! Varoom!! Varoom!! the dance
floor lit up with several bikes and scantily clad riders and pillions. Including
some Rejects Naughty Boys J.
I must say however pleasing the sights were I just couldn’t help noticing a
few headlamps needed a bit of buffing up.
Later that evening I retired earlier than usual, only to be informed the
next morning of how I had missed all the fun of Table jumping, Random tent
occupation, Football and mistimed guy rope hopping.
Another day, and this time with an early tea, thanks Pete. Oh boy there
were some sad looking people around nursing very thick heads, dodging the
showers (both natural and the ones with a mega queue) we decided on a small ride
out, so having dug out boots and helmet, which was now sporting a strange fungal
growth, I was ready. The real ride out with full police backup was apparently a
superb trip. However the others because of the light rain decided to avoid it
though and so we headed again for the town.
I do believe we had almost a full house in the restaurant, rejects
everywhere. In the afternoon entertainment was laid on with Bucking bronco’s a
few stalls, more herrings anyone? There was also the outside bar. The northern
raiders claimed squatter’s rights on our gazebo, but kindly let us squeeze in
Saturdays band was also cracking with a good mix of covers, including
some Stevie Ray Vaughn, Les finally “Came out” and he certainly seemed to
enjoy the fishnet tights. Tired and happy bed called.
Sadly Sunday was time to go, so a few swift goodbyes to those rejects
staying on a day, and a few friends we will not see for a while. In small groups
we all headed off on the 100 miles back to the port, this time expertly led by
Gill and Tony (who had a map). Unfortunately one group did have an accident but
it was good to know that all involved made it to the boat even if their bikes
didn’t. It seemed the party carried on all the way home on the boat, with so
many VSOC members on it.
Peeling off steadily on the way home we waved our farewells. A fantastic
weekend, good friends and good times. It’s what the international is all
Roll on the next one