dyke & kristy stoke the fire

with excitement surrounding easter beginning to reach fever pitch, dyke and kristy could refrain no longer and annoyed everyone by sending gloating pictures from dykes spriritual home. however, even with a tinge of jealousy it was a nice sight to see, the golden nectar jumping out from the screen as dyke savoured his (or anyones) first tribute of the year. though it is more than conceivable that it was john smiths in a tribute glass, tight bastard. whilst it looked a tad windy and not particularly warm the view out over cliffs to the atlantic is always one to behold - anticipation grows, and one can only wonder about bobs state of mind after seeing such pictures.



meanwhile......strange goings on in the benton household???

countdown on

bobs excited already. he has been since january. he's about to explode and theres still 6 weeks before the annual 'start of the season' easter trip. but the nights are drawing out, its light when i get home from work now so i'm starting to get that summer feeling. had a taster in marrakech. easter will probably be cold, and maybe a little wet, but we're sure to have one or two good days, and if we don't we still got tribute in the blue peter so who cares? not bob thats for sure. 45 days to go.

looking further forward, having just heard about their world tour should we make aerosmith tickets the top priority of the summer?

mid-term catchprhrases: "i can't wait till easter", "its my spiritual home"

marrakech escape

with the adventures of the summer of 2006 and 2007 a long equidistant memory and hope respectively, nays and i decided to escape these murky shores and abscond to the sunshine of southern morrocco for a last minute bit of winter sun. in a fortunate/unfortunate (depending how you look at it) twist of fate we flew out from gatwick on the morning of the first proper snowfall in years, so nothing short of 5 days of heat would suffice for someone who was thinking of sledging and snowballs (but not snobboarding - never). so we arrived in marrakech and were not dissapointed, stepping off the plane and feeling the heat immediatly. things were seeming intimidating for a while, with taxi drivers jostling for our business and people after money, camels lying on streetcorners and the strange free for all that was marrakech's excuse for a highway code. however, that was soon put to bed and replaced by a much greater and more important issue - how the hell do you get a beer in morrocco? the hotel had no license, the cafe's served coffee and soft drinks and the so called pubs were pretty much no go areas. we settled upon a little store that sold us some dusty beers and odd looking white wine and retired to the hotel room to re-group. the next few days were spent exploring the delights of the medina. within the city walls things changed, feeling like we had stepped back 100 years we explored markets, winding roads and tiny alleyways, pushed to one side to let donkeys and scooters pass, haggled and hustled ending up with perhaps a few too many morroccan lanterns, and retired to observe this madness over a jus d'orange overlooking the most enthralling show on earth, the daily drumbeat of the jeema el fna - snake charmers, dancing monkeys and all. we bought spices, a smelly leather bag and just generally indulged in the whole thing. by night this turned into a strange food market where we (probably wisely) avoided dining on anything from a snail to a sheeps head. the week went by and we stumbled upon a couple of amazing restaurants serving great food, and most importantly wine...and also manged to find a little hotel bar to drink in. marrakech is the kind of place that grows on you the longer you stay, to fly 3 hours and get 25 degree heat in february, yet snow capped mountains lurking ominously as a backdrop is amazing in itself, but the buzz, the sounds the smells all make for an unforgettable experience. back next year then.





catchphrases: "fish and chips", "lovely jubbly", "i give you asda price!"

betws-y-coed on bikes - the return

with the winter approaching at speed we decided to head back to north wales to have another crack at the marin trail. dyke had put down his books to join us, so after weeks of intensive training, mainly in the hop pole, we were raring to go. arriving in llanwrist it was nice to pop in to see wyn (its not for you boys) in the fish and chip shop..... the same couldn't be said for returning to the campsite of the teradactuls, where we found the grass still hadn't been cut, there was still nobody else there, there was still no bog roll and it was still not actually a campsite. but we stayed none the less. after an uncharacteristically sensible evening we woke up with clear - yes clear - heads ready for the trail. we made the sensible decision to drive to the car park to cut out about 30 minutes of climbing, much to dykes dissapointment. he loved the uphills, and by this time was gurning after his 5th redbull (sorry, blue bolt) of the morning. the site of him shadow-boxing at the top of the first climb nearly made me ride straight back down, however i continued and the trail was fantastic once again. as the day went by and me and bob began hike-a-biking more and more, body parts began to fail and some odd looking positions were adopted to try and eliviate cramp, which was quickly spreading to every muscle in my body....which is the only reason that i fell off in such a spectacular manner. honest. the day ended with a much needed big steak and some ale in town, which is always the best part. once some ac's tripped the scary woman over we laughed into our pints for a while then made the walk back to the site/field/thing. we awoke to thunder, lashing rain and evidence of the return of the teradactuls, which had made their mark on the roof of my car, and decided that a fry up was a better option than riding another trail.


Catchphrases: "Sit on it you daft c***s", "He loves them uphills"

august extravaganza part 2

after packing the site in record time, a great achievement considering the 3 acres of ground taken up by bobs tent village, we headed off into the depths of cornwall in true "convoy!" style. its always a great site to see the palm trees of st ives start to appear, and everyone was buoyed by the fact that we'd managed to get a spot on the infamous trevalgan site....venue of many an epic adventure over the years and home of the valley of death, stone circle and rabbit ears. it was only to be a short stay, dinner in town to celebrate andy and nays first year anniversary (a wonderful year of wedded bliss, ed) and a few drinks. we spent the afternoon trying to play football, bob and benny taking great pleasure from the fact that its always funny watching andy and dyke on the same team. he is useless though grrr. the evening came, drinking jackets were donned, and we headed into town. i say evening but i mean 4.30, which in hindsight was probably the first schoolboy error. the 2nd came when 5 pints were polished off before dinner, so after an explosive hour we sat down for mexican, and from what i remember it was very nice. we woke up, hangovers brushed aside, as it was what everyone was really waiting for......sennen. except bob who was convinced it would be foggy. but it wasn't, the weather was truly amazing, and there was no better time this summer than the moment we got to the top of the steps to look down over whitesands in all its glory. after a day spent on the beach, and some good bodyboarding, in which andy managed to gain a partner for his lonely solitary flipper, to bobs expense, we headed up to get ready for our bbq on the beach. carrying an evenings worth of food, drink and cooking equipment down 500 steps to the beach is no easy task but well worth it once we arrived to see the sun setting spectacularly and the waves crashing in. a fine evening was had drinking, and at last benny managed to build a fire worthy of his hype, a fitting moment for the success. the following day was bob and lucys last, so after a last dip for them they headed off after lunch, with the weather starting to look ominous. the rest of us decided to go for a drive round the the south side, and out onto logan rock, where some amazing views were found. the evening passed with an excellent meal at place on the beach and a couple more drinks in the old success, however it appeared people were beginning to tire of that. waking up it was evident a last day on the beach was not to be, so we packed up and headed off, leaving benny, dyke and kristy to grab what they could of their last few days.



catchphrases: "dude, check the pictures in that book" (benny being sleazy in an art gallery)

august extravaganza part 1

after the july heatwave all was optimistic about the august bank holiday jaunt to cornwall, built up for months as the encore to a fine summer of drinking whiskey on campsites whilst pretending to bodyboard. that was until we saw the weather forecast. and realised that every campsite in cornwall was fully booked as we had unsuprisingly not got our arses into gear on time. so, after a couple of days blind panic lucy managed to bag us a site just across the border in devon (urgh) but close enough to some nice cornwall beaches to fit the bill. arriving at hartland in driving rain me and nays amazingly bumped into bob and lucy in the pub no less and thought it would be rudeness of the highest order not to sample a couple of the ales on offer, however this didn't go down too well with benny when he found out as for a while it looked like he may have had to do the shop...so after him throwing what can only be described as the pap of all paps he scared me and bob into submission, receding tales between our legs to do the shop. at the site all was good, a nice farmer led us by quad and got some caravan types to move so we could have more space, which was nice, and once everyone arrived the evening descended into the usual pattern of ale/steak/whiskey/bed. we awoke freshish and ventured down to the nearest beach - sandy mouth - as recommended by my all famous cornwall pamphlet to embark on a spot of wave peppering, though it proved difficult as things were a bit messy. the afternoon was spent doing not much and observing some dweeb sack. this led to an evening stroll down to hartland quay, which proved to be beyond everyones expectations and a great spot with a pub on the rocks and the waves crashing in around us. the following day we decided to head off to trebarwith strand, a place discovered a few weeks earlier and generally decided pretty nice thanks to the brilliance of the pamphlet. dyke was all excited cos kristy was on her way and the waves were looking good if i bit big, but benny continued his rapid development into pro bodyboard god with some crazy moves whilst bob got overconfident and royally tumbledryered. we headed back to meet kristy, then had a fine few hours of frisbee (no dweeb sacking), followed by the usual ale/steak/whiskey routine. oh, and dyke enjoyed some vegetable wraps. so the last night before moving on into cornwall and the prospect of st. ives mmmm and sennen mmmmmm passed and we told ourslelves not to drink so much whiskey in the following days. cough.



Cathchphrase: "Am I biting? Am I?"