Touring

There used to be a type of holiday or short break called touring. It still exists but only a certain class of person would admit to doing it. The rest of us call it 'cruising around' or 'driving all over the place' or 'getting lost'. But I think that's what me and my girl were doing last weekend.

See, just because I haven't passed my test doesn't mean I can't drive. I drove most of the way to Hastings on Friday with Jane shouting, 'No!' and 'Slow DOWN' and 'Change Gear!' every few minutes. Also flapping her right hand which means extreme danger - in these cases she is too afear'd to speak and I must guess for myself what the extreme danger might be and take appropriate action in the micro-second available before the end of time.

So it went well.

What made it seem like touring was that we were on our way to Brighton Pride which wasn't till Saturday but first we were going to visit the lovely author Miss VG Lee in Hastings - and on the way to her house we happened to pop by Bodiam Castle. I even took the Rough Guide to Britain in case we needed to do more touring but that was enough.

The castle seemed to have a curse upon it. The nice cafe was under attack by killer wasps and when we made it up to the hall itself, it was closed for an emergency. Three police cars, one police van and two ambulances were parked by the moat and someone was being brought down from the tower where they had been taken seriously ill. This didn't stop a party of Amish folk in checked dresses, headscarves and the latest Nike training shoes from picnicking and enjoying the view.

Anyway, that has nothing to do with YLAF so I am now censoring the rest of my ramblings and cutting to the chase: Val, Jane and I went to Pride in Brighton and it was fab. There were so many people that you could barely pick your way across the park. We had 1,000 shiny new flyers with us and the volunteers poured in to help: Jenny & Ann and the wee miniature Schnausers [sp?] that are scared of people; Rosemary, Justine and Cousin; Elspeth The Timekeeper and her team...

We were The Leafleteers. We told all the girls about the York Lesbian Arts Festival and we didn't care if they were drunk or in the middle of an argument or had just lost their mobile phone down the portaloo - we still stayed for a nice chat.

Next day we toured back via Winchelsea Beach. Now I have a very slight suntan and a better grasp of the technique for changing lanes on the dual carriageway.

- Helen

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