Hoppers 2011

Did you miss me? We've been away with Dad to the 2011 version of the annual 2CV club camp organised by the local group of 2CVGB, Kentish Hoppers, at 'our' farm in Preston village, just east of Wingham, near Canterbury. This is a quiet little relaxed camp as these things go, with none of yer wild partying, loud music of heavy drinking, just lots of sitting around in the sun, checking out the Citroen cars which show up, reading, chatting and (for some) plinking away on the ukuleles which seem to be taking over one corner of the site. Lots of chillin'.

We also coincide with the Preston Steam Rally, which is a big meet of traction engines locally, so that campers can, if they wish, walk the 10 minutes across the fields to visit that with all its hoots, whistles and fairground noise, classic cars and bikes, olde agricultural amd military kit, stalls and trade stands, like a mini Kent Show.

We dogs get to drive around in a variety of old 2CVs, including Dad and Andy's "Mademoiselle" car and this bizarre one painted up like a Sebastian Loeb rally C4 (no competition parts - just the paint job!). We sleep with Dad in his little tent and we join in with the chilling out. More on all this though, over the next couple of days. It seems I rolled in a bit too much horse poo and wiped my back down a few too many oily 2CV sumps (I go under them to get out of the sun), so although I did get washed immediately in one of the horse drinkers with just washing up liquid, I am due a proper shampoo.

Byeee.... splosh

Deefs

Dambuster-ing

Tonight's write-up has several co-incidental links to the Dam Busters, but starts off with a repeat of me saying how totally mad these humans are. One of the highlights of the 2CV camp to which we have just been is the Saturday night joint barbecue and kazoo orchestra session.

The barbie is fabricated from an up-turned 2CV bonnet and a supermarket trolley and is big enough for plenty of humans to cook plenty of meat all at once. The humans also consume a degree of booze, but not too much and then adjourn to the marquee / party-tent for a mad session where everyone is given a kazoo to play (although this year there was an outbreak of learning to play ukuleles so there were a few of them). There are also various percussion instruments made out of bits of car (cymbals made of hub caps on a proper stand, bongoes from car headlight "pots", a drum kit made of rocker covers etc). Main man Andy produces a Guitaron, which is a big double-bass sized guitar with no frets, from Mexico.

The mad humans then work their way madly, raucously and loudly through cartoon themes (Top Cat etc), Muppet songs, pop songs and war themes as the light falls. Do they not realise our hearing is 40,000 times as sensitive as theirs? Mercy me!

I've already said that over at the Preston Steam Rally, half a dozen fields away at most, there was a fine display of old military kit and vehicles including 2 WW2 searchlights with tow/generator lorries. The Rally goes on till late on Saturday night after all the public have gone with a dinner and dance for the exhibitors, and once it's dark the searchlight crews light their lights and send their fine columns of light upward raking the sky for enemy aircraft. This they did just as we were doing the Dambusters Theme, so you can imagine all the humans ran outside and kazoo'd as loudly as they could, hoping to be heard at Preston.

The camp's 2CV convoy earlier had also been to the Reculver Towers, scene of much of Barnes-Wallis's testing of the bombs in wartime, so we were well Dam-Bustered up and it was a magic moment.

Darrr Dah Dah Dah Dudduddaahh Dah Dahhhhhh

Deefski

Holiday Romance

Ahhhhhh.... 'tis smitten I am, blown to bits by a holiday romance. Our absence over the last few days has been because Dad has been away with Haggis and I to the annual 2CV camp down in Preston (Kent), just east of Canterbury, north of Wingham. It's been bakingly, stultifyingly hot (which is unusual for a 2CV camp, where Force 8 and driving rain is the norm, coinciding, as it does, usually with Glastonbury weekend).

This camp takes place in a field which is normally a horse paddock, so there was poo to roll in and smear all over my neck (We'd only been there 10 minutes, so Dad was cross) and the heat meant I had to lie up under (oily, old, leaky) cars for shade, so I very quickly got my usual camp oil-slick down my back, only partly removed by an emergency bath in a fire bucket with Fairy liquid as shampoo!

At this camp, Dad met old friends from many camps including J+J, who turn up this year with a new dog, a brown long-haired German pointer of great beauty and youth. He has the old-French name of Artous, as befits a 2CV-dog if not a German pointer. See my picture. Well, the campers could get on with it as far as I was concerned - my mission was straight away to tease him and get him to play, which he was quite happy to do, and which meant I could zip about out-manouvring him and nipping under cars to lose him, but then letting him find me again. There were comments from humans about "outrageous flirting" and being a "tease" and a "tart" but I was lost to all reason.

More on all this tomorrow.

Ahhhh... Artous... will you remember me? Will you write?

Deefski

H Vans and a Scammell

2 more nice pics from the 2CV camp, and the associated Preston Steam Rally. The grey beast is the Citroen H Van mentioned yesterday, and the blue and red beast is considerably heavier, being a low loader / heavy haulage puller/pusher, the Scammell. Both lovingly restored and I am sure much cherished. Dad says he loves the name, but that might be something to do with Theakestone's beers.

My but it's hot. Dad's getting home at a sensible hour but no-one feels like walking till about 9 pm. The car's dashboard thermometer read 35 degrees at 3pm, admittedly in a sun-trap car park, but even moving under normal conditions we were still getting 31 degrees. Too hot to walk, too hot to type.

Love though, to Diamond, not at all well in hospital at present. Rags has been sent away "on his holidays" (a place up on the A2 owned by chums of Diamond, where Rags goes when she's in Greece. He loves it there - big garden and people around all the time to make a fuss of him and be with him. Thinks all his Birthdays and Christmasses have come at once. Won't want to come home!

Deefski

Hoppers Camp 2009

Hey! We've all been camping again, the 2009 edition of the 2CV camp organised by dad's club local group, Kentish Hoppers. We're in the old familiar farm in Preston, a village just East of Canterbury but in 2009 there are some major differences from "normal". First up, the weather.

Dad's camps are plagued by strong winds and heavy rain, so that we dogs are always damp and normally crawling into the damp tent accompanied by a towel down by increasingly damp dog-towels. We lie in a steaming heap with Dad and no-one can really get a good, comfy night's sleep.

This year, blue skies and hot hot dry days, windless to the point of being stormy-sultry, but the threatened storms miss us, except for a tiny shower on Saturday.

Next was that the camp was timed to co-incide with another big local event, the Preston Steam Traction Engine Rally, where lots of boys even more weird than Dad display their huge steam engines (far worse than 2CV's!). Boys never grow up - it's just their toys get bigger.

We finally get to ride in the Hoppers' project restoration car, "Mademoiselle", when Dad has to nip over to collect here from the lock up so that she can be displayed at the camp site, and does not want to leave us behind. The precious restored seat fabric is protected by a rug, and in we clamber. Excellent fun!.

More of this soon - I have lots of pics and lots more to tell. I must remember to tell you about Megs getting into trouble for stealing our new Hungarian friend's breakfast, but that's for later.

Also why I'm now shampoo'd to within an inch of my life.......

Good stuff - we're all tired out now though.

Deefski