The Nevilles and the Stanleys had a medieval style meal today… bit of a trail up there, but as you can see from the photos it was a damn good laugh.
It all started with me being called out to repair a fire alarm call point that had been smashed – thus setting us back about an hour and a half, but we then set off up to a little farm near Brough in Humberside (sorry… East Yorkshire), a little scoot up the M18 and a bit of the M62.
Upon arrival we were issued with various jobs (I smushed peas, Hannah did stuff with stuff)… and we made lots and lots of food.
However, before too long, the merriment started – firstly with Oliver cracking a bottle of Champagne he had “borrowed” from his parents. Seeing him drinking it out of a bottle and us drinking it from various medieval styled cups and mugs was quite amusing.
Various other drinks passed our lips that night, including an interesting Hungarian drink called “Unicum” which tasted quite literally like licking a meadow… it was supposed to be flavoured with herbs and spices, but was really quite grim.
We ate Pea Soup, Flan, Grate Pie (that is the spelling), Venison, Buttered Worts, Frumentary (sp?) and Honeyed Carrots and it was very good.
Adam’s expression when he tasted it was amusing – as you can see, although not quite as amusing as his expression when the taste actually hit him and he nearly threw up!
The night went on and many dances were conducted including Ye Olde Timewarp, Ye Very Olde Saturday Night, and Ye Even Older 5-6-7-8 by Ye Minstrels known only as “Steppes”… as you can guess it was cheesier than a cheese ball floating in cheese dip.
Many drinks later and we headed to bed… or should that be stumbled to bed. Fourteen pissed re-enactors in a bunk room, farting, belching and constantly visiting the toilet as the many pints took their inevitable course was not an amusing concept (all I will say is Spiderpants).
Upon the rising of the sun we realised the scene of devastation and proceeded to devastate the kitchen further by preparing breakfast whilst hung over. Sugar Puffs whilst hung over works in so many ways.
As a footnote, Rosemary and Ducky broke down on the M18 on the return journey and we waited with them – the Traffic Wombles (bless their cotton socks) drove straight past 2 vehicles on the hard shoulder of a fast flowing, busy motorway and didn’t bat an eyelid. Ah my taxes are well spent.