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British contingent starts to arrive. Lots of funny looking cars, many towing
large trailers. You wander over, justto check things out. They all experienced
long delays at Dover, they have driven 400 km in pouring rain, they have
just seen the muddy state of your campsite (and it's still raining) and
yet 99% of them are smiling, shouting hallo to new arrivals, laughing and
joking as they struggle to put up their tents between the puddles. They
are all ages from babes in arms to pensioners. You toddle back to your office
to dry off. During Saturday evening they are all impeccably behaved. Sunday
dawns damp and dreary, but there they all are as happy as can be. Those
with large tents (how did they get them in those little cars?) and those
who have rented chalets are all sharing their dry accommodation with those
from little tents. What jolly decent people they all are. You chat to the
organisers - difficult as they don't speak Dutch, but you manage. You discover
their plans for the week and lend them your video camera to tape the highlights.
You lend caravans to those who have tent problems (e.g. forgetting to pack
their tent poles), and accommodate some of the families with young children
in chalets vacated by the departing walkers. Everyone is so friendly, always
ready with a drink to offer, always ready to help anyone mend car or tent.
You relax and look forward to a week with some very pleasant guests. Now
hear the other side of the story... Campsite very wet, Sunday quiz drive
culminating in plaque presentation at a mystery venue cancelled due to roadworks
at key points en route (bright sparks say 'why don't we redraw the route?'
Organisers ask bright sparks if (a) they have a photocopier, (b) they have
alternative route and questions in mind and (c) they know of an alternative
venue where 110 Minors will be welcome without prior notice). So no Quiz
Drive - hey ho, we all found alternative entertainment. Monday, and it wasn't
raining! 20 miles drive through pretty countryside took the Minors to Grevenmacher |
on the
Moselle river, where the specially chartered 350 seater M.V. Princesse Marie-Astrid
was waiting to take MOT 88 to Trier in Germany for lunch. The boat was in
pristine condition, with waitress service for refreshments and plenty of
seats both inside and out. The trip down river took about 2 hours, and included
passing through one of the large navigation locks(hear those cameras click!).
Arriving in Trier we had 3 hours before catching the boat back, just enough
time to eat and take in the major sights. All had been told that if they
were late the boat would have gone. Chartering costs by the hour, and the
MOT kitty waits for no man! Needless to say, someone missed the boat. On
the way back we had the opportunity of watching a very heavy rainstorm from
the boat. Not quite the scenery we had in mind, but unlike many Minors,
the boat didn't leak, and there were enough seats inside for everybody.
Back at the quayside there was a mad rush for the cars through a torrential
downpour, and several people returned to the campsite to find their tents
under water. No problem for Minorists, just bung the sleeping bags in the
campsite tumbledriers and move the tents (emptying out the water as you
go). Simple.
Monday night saw the real start to the week's parties, which are the life
and soul of any MOT trip. With half the campsite to ourselves there was
no question of annoying anyone else. The campsite manager is well used to
large groups and enjoys their parties too. Each evening from around 8 pm
you started to see people getting ready to go out ... first they donned
an extra pullover, then an anorak and wellies; putting a glass in one pocket
and a bottle in the other, they picked up a chair and sometimes an umbrella
too. Zipping up their tent, they then paddled over to one or other of the
big tents or chalets for an evening's sojourn in pleasant company. This
flexible approach tosocialising means that you can call on |
