Snapper

On the way back to the campsite at Maiden Newton we managed to take a wrong turn at one of Dorchester's thirty nine roundabouts. Here's the sequence getting the armour back in the right direction.

JB. Man of the hour. Prince of Thieves. Dear Leader. Call him what you like (and I generally do) - he organised a classic and it was written all over his face like four chimps on acid trying to recreate the best of Jackson Pollock. Poor bugger.

Vorsprung Dorch Epic...until we return in 2014!

This is another of my favourite pix...

I nearly forgot this one....

Time to saddle up and leave town. James, Father Peter and Kim seem happy to go. Joris and Paul just pose - crazy Dutch. In all the rush I managed to not take a snap of Colin's WC63.

Liberating Dorchester gave me a chance to catch up with my old friend Mike who has just opened a shop in the town. He is a watch dealer and thanks to him I have a 1916 "trench" wristwatch which belonged to a RAMC medic from the 1st West Riding Field Ambulance which I treasure. It's quite delicate - so he helped me get it tweaked in Dorch, then James and I went for some cake. Prior to this we had been to a lock-in at a shop belonging to another convoy participant where we enjoyed some red wine. Only on A & E! Fantastic fun. Here's James enjoying his Victoria sponge.

Not like that...like that.

It was as surreal as last time...but just as brilliant.

Slowly into Dorch...

This field was full of poppies last time. The view is still sublime.

We're off and the order changes. The Carrier sits behind us and brings a few moments of entertainment to proceedings....just like that!

Shouldn't they be pink? :wow:

When my brain is functioning I am partial to a Guinness, though I did manage a nice pint of mild in the Crooked Billet at Leigh on Sea on Thursday (Guinness was off). Unfortunately, my brain does not function much of the time and is not likely to again due to the ongoing thing, so tea is the most potent drink I can handle.

Time to leave.... Degsy means business....

Nearly time to leave. The son and heir looking a bit tired. Not enough beer. Forgot to mention the earlier shot of our newest Mod. What a fine example she sets. The guy on the horse was really cool the way he picked his way through the crowd like it was an every day occurance. Fantastic moments... and who is that flat out on the grass?

Parking....

Interesting moment here with the Dear Leader's daughter developing a following. Actually, we were all heading to the farm shop where damned fine roast pork baguettes could be found. The pub was packed and the Londis had closed down. What a shame. Martinstown is a nice village. An elderly lady stopped me to describe what it had been like there in 1944 with all the Yanks in town. She described our presthence as "queer". She didn't like it and she didn't dislike it. What she made of us, I do not know, but I think in general we got a very good reception. Jack got on the telly...there's always the 'off' botton...

Martinstown...

Nice to see our chums from the FFI have joined us....

Eventually....

We arrive at last....

More horses....

We will eventually get to Martinstown....

More tidying....