A weekend part remembered
Tuesday, June 1st, 2004 12:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanYesterday, by which I mean the day before as it is now past midnight and therefore Tuesday, I went to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jfs and feistyredhead's BBQ in Ilford.
I have never been to Ilford before, and it is deep in bandit country, where the King's Writ does not run. Many years ago I spent the weekend in Forest Hill (conquering Stalingrad, but that's another story) which is admittedly not that far from Ilford, and I have, a couple of times been to South Woodford which is so far into the East End that it is practically in the Urals. But this was my first time in Ilford.
On exiting the station, my first impression was that the London A-Z lieth cruelly, and I am tempted to write them a note to that effect. You see, the map suggests that you exit the station, cross the road and you are in Ilford High Road. Indeed you are not. Cunningly, the road that looks most like a High Road or a High Street is not, and equally cunningly, the street name is not displayed anywhere until you have walked at least 100 yards in the wrong direction. This is clearly a feature of the London Borough of Redbridge since Ilford High Road, when eventually I found it was not identified at all, oh no. The fact that the town hall was on it gave me grounds for optimism as did the fact I found a map on the wall which confirmed that it was the right road. There was, I feel, an element of the Crystal Maze to that section of the journey.
Anyway, fortified by paracetamol and codeine, my tender foot was quite painless (and still is, hurrah!), so I was able to trudge along looking at the street names which seem to all have changed in recent years since all the street signs proudly announce that this was qwerty street formerly known as asdfg street or some such. I mean, why bother changing street names? It's not as if the old ones were rude or nasty in these increasingly sensitive times...
Well, I got there in the end, and found myself having to phone the back garden so thatjfs could come and open the front door. Happily Ilford is close enough to civilization that my mobile continued to work.
In attendance at various times, in addition to myself and mine host and hostess,westernind and forbinproject who were celebrating birthdays just happened or just happening, Ser English's mater (we were both sure we'd met each other before, but neither of us could think where) and other half, caffeine_fairy and chomper99 (thanks for the lift home!), hErR dOkToR jimfer (who is now distressingly tall - I'm sure he has horse dung in his boots, for he is certainly a good foot taller than he was a month ago...), ephraim and ashenkat, thalinoviel (she of the dimensional-warping chocolate cake) and Ian sans LJ. There too were Chi and Mogs both of whom I believe to be sans LJ. Several people who I don't know were in attendance, and later mrcook, maleghast and the ever lovely Miss ellefurtle. I'm sure I've missed other people I know, but I've discussed the state of my memory before, so you'll just have to bear with me. Red wine followed by Pimms doesn't help the old recall either, quite frankly.
I do recall talking to a nice gothy chap who had a double-breasted black frock coat the likes of which I must now track down and purchase (only much bigger, of course, since I am a shade more portly than yon gentleman).
All told, a good barbecue, although my navigational skills were shown to be dreadful whencaffeine_fairy and I ventured maybe 200 yards and around one corner in a futile attempt to purchase new supplies of Pimms. If I'd been alone I would no doubt still be wandering around the depths of Ilford like some lost soul, but there we are.
A little NWO frothage was indulged in, but not too much, and I seem to be partially back on track for GD in a fortnight's time, despite not having even the slightest piece of camping gear. Who organises an event with NO FACILITIES these days, I ask you?
Hm.
That's just about all I did this weekend, and it all happened on Sunday afternoon and evening.
jfs and feistyredhead's BBQ in Ilford.I have never been to Ilford before, and it is deep in bandit country, where the King's Writ does not run. Many years ago I spent the weekend in Forest Hill (conquering Stalingrad, but that's another story) which is admittedly not that far from Ilford, and I have, a couple of times been to South Woodford which is so far into the East End that it is practically in the Urals. But this was my first time in Ilford.
On exiting the station, my first impression was that the London A-Z lieth cruelly, and I am tempted to write them a note to that effect. You see, the map suggests that you exit the station, cross the road and you are in Ilford High Road. Indeed you are not. Cunningly, the road that looks most like a High Road or a High Street is not, and equally cunningly, the street name is not displayed anywhere until you have walked at least 100 yards in the wrong direction. This is clearly a feature of the London Borough of Redbridge since Ilford High Road, when eventually I found it was not identified at all, oh no. The fact that the town hall was on it gave me grounds for optimism as did the fact I found a map on the wall which confirmed that it was the right road. There was, I feel, an element of the Crystal Maze to that section of the journey.
Anyway, fortified by paracetamol and codeine, my tender foot was quite painless (and still is, hurrah!), so I was able to trudge along looking at the street names which seem to all have changed in recent years since all the street signs proudly announce that this was qwerty street formerly known as asdfg street or some such. I mean, why bother changing street names? It's not as if the old ones were rude or nasty in these increasingly sensitive times...
Well, I got there in the end, and found myself having to phone the back garden so that
jfs could come and open the front door. Happily Ilford is close enough to civilization that my mobile continued to work.In attendance at various times, in addition to myself and mine host and hostess,
westernind and forbinproject who were celebrating birthdays just happened or just happening, Ser English's mater (we were both sure we'd met each other before, but neither of us could think where) and other half, caffeine_fairy and chomper99 (thanks for the lift home!), hErR dOkToR jimfer (who is now distressingly tall - I'm sure he has horse dung in his boots, for he is certainly a good foot taller than he was a month ago...), ephraim and ashenkat, thalinoviel (she of the dimensional-warping chocolate cake) and Ian sans LJ. There too were Chi and Mogs both of whom I believe to be sans LJ. Several people who I don't know were in attendance, and later mrcook, maleghast and the ever lovely Miss ellefurtle. I'm sure I've missed other people I know, but I've discussed the state of my memory before, so you'll just have to bear with me. Red wine followed by Pimms doesn't help the old recall either, quite frankly.I do recall talking to a nice gothy chap who had a double-breasted black frock coat the likes of which I must now track down and purchase (only much bigger, of course, since I am a shade more portly than yon gentleman).
All told, a good barbecue, although my navigational skills were shown to be dreadful when
caffeine_fairy and I ventured maybe 200 yards and around one corner in a futile attempt to purchase new supplies of Pimms. If I'd been alone I would no doubt still be wandering around the depths of Ilford like some lost soul, but there we are.A little NWO frothage was indulged in, but not too much, and I seem to be partially back on track for GD in a fortnight's time, despite not having even the slightest piece of camping gear. Who organises an event with NO FACILITIES these days, I ask you?
Hm.
That's just about all I did this weekend, and it all happened on Sunday afternoon and evening.