Clutching at beer
The Kiwi is in town! It's been 17 years since we last met and he's arranged to drop by Chez Alf for a couple of days against all his better instincts, and the Beer Festival is on. The Alf effect kicks in immediately. Mrs Alf's Fiesta fails its MoT. That means I am on the bus turning my 25 minute commute into a 90 minute, 2 bus journey trek. I have Friday afternoon off with the Kiwi arriving at the station at midday. It's going to be touch-and-go getting a bus into the town centre and then across to the railway station (curse the University for building Cambridge's station a mile from the centre) in time to get the 1245 train home. But, what's this? Korfballman saves the day and gives me a lift to the station.
We make the train, we collect Goaty Steve later and get back into town for the Beer Festival catching up with the Bushmeister for a swifty on the way (he has done his best to drink the festival dry during his 3 day visit during the week and has to be home to Berkshire that night). The Kiwi gets to meet the whole crowd when Korfballman and Dr Zephead turn up later.
We'll skip the dodgy burger and soggy chips on the walk home from the bus.
Saturday is a lovely day for sightseeing so we save Sunday for the visit to the Imperial War Museum at Duxford. On Saturday night the clutch fails on the ZS. Now we are carless.
But even in Alf's world all is not lost. One of the fathers at my daughter's school has already offered the use of his wife's car (currently away with work for several weeks) after hearing of Mrs Alf's MoT woes - and to the utmost disgust of the Bushmeister it is Mrs Alf and not me who is now dependent on a car since taking a part-time job at our daughter's school 4 miles from our house.
Next problem, Tom is not in. Being a church-going man and looking after 3 young children he could be off to someone's house for lunch after church on Sunday. Alf's luck holds again. He calls back after midday to say we can collect the car any time so I have a lovely 3 mile cycle in the pouring rain to collect the car. We make Duxford, we even make the Waggon & Horses later.
It'll be Thursday before the garage can look at the ZS. I have 2 days before my world collapses again in a welter of bills.
We make the train, we collect Goaty Steve later and get back into town for the Beer Festival catching up with the Bushmeister for a swifty on the way (he has done his best to drink the festival dry during his 3 day visit during the week and has to be home to Berkshire that night). The Kiwi gets to meet the whole crowd when Korfballman and Dr Zephead turn up later.
We'll skip the dodgy burger and soggy chips on the walk home from the bus.
Saturday is a lovely day for sightseeing so we save Sunday for the visit to the Imperial War Museum at Duxford. On Saturday night the clutch fails on the ZS. Now we are carless.
But even in Alf's world all is not lost. One of the fathers at my daughter's school has already offered the use of his wife's car (currently away with work for several weeks) after hearing of Mrs Alf's MoT woes - and to the utmost disgust of the Bushmeister it is Mrs Alf and not me who is now dependent on a car since taking a part-time job at our daughter's school 4 miles from our house.
Next problem, Tom is not in. Being a church-going man and looking after 3 young children he could be off to someone's house for lunch after church on Sunday. Alf's luck holds again. He calls back after midday to say we can collect the car any time so I have a lovely 3 mile cycle in the pouring rain to collect the car. We make Duxford, we even make the Waggon & Horses later.
It'll be Thursday before the garage can look at the ZS. I have 2 days before my world collapses again in a welter of bills.