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| Events from 2005 |
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| Reydon '05
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| Reydon took place over the weekend the clocks go back (as it should) on 28-30th October. Friday night as usual we put on black ties and posh frocks and dance the night away to Plus 5, well you have to have us play because we're cheap, like free to you lot, and anyway, Karen is the lead singer and organiser of the whole weekend! In honour of the 200th Anniversary of Trafalgar Day, the theme for the Saturday night party was Naughtily Nautical and Marvelously Maritime, so we had a hell of a lot of tough looking pirates and comely wenches, plus of course lots of Adnams. Karen Newstead won the fancy dress with her nelson's Column outfit complete with lots of pigeon do dos. Haydn Lightfoot has submitted many photographs of the costumes and to show off his artistic flare, there's one token picture of the sea at Southwold, so what's that about then Haydn?
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This second report of Reydon '05 I have stolen from Judy Bell's excellent account of the event in her Interim Newsletter for November '05. Thanks Judy.
Cranmog's weekend away at Reydon went extremely well and was very much enjoyed by every one who took part. Many of us met up for lunch at the Red Lion at Southwold on Friday lunch-time and after an excellent meal, for those who were able to park in time, we took the opportunity for some to explore the shops and others to take the sea air. Friday evening saw us all in our finery for a formal black tie dinner with very good food and many toasts. Some of these were typical of the evening, that is quite frivolous, but the most sincere one was to J C wishing him a speedy recovery and return to our fold !.We were very well entertained by the Plus Fives playing and singing for us all evening. They really are a very talented group and Jim Barham who is usually associated with the trumpet, made his debut as a singer complete with pony-tail. We all enjoyed the music and would like to thank each of the Plus Fives for their performance - Karen Redfern, vocalist, Gary Griffiths, Malcolm McArthur and Andrew Culpin all with various types of guitars, Laura Griffiths on drums and Jim Barham with trumpet, and not forgetting Caitlin Redfern following in her mum's footsteps as their additional singer. Despite the weather forecast.
Saturday dawned bright and clear (for those of us awake enough to notice) and most of us embarked on the annual walk to the Harbour Inn. Money was collected for a kitty for the drinks, and as usual ran out quite quickly (surprise!) Some had lunch at the Harbour Inn, but some of us were too mean, or too sensible, to pay £9.95p for fish and chips in paper and walked to the Bell Inn at Walberswick where we had a similar lunch for a more reasonable price. As time went on we all seemed to gather there to build up our strength for the walk back to Reydon. We took the short cut on the ferry where JD bribed the girl rowing the boat with a bottle of beer to make sure she gave him a lift back. We weren't sure what he had said to her on the way out to necessitate this!
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After a rest back at our accommodation we all gathered in the bar of the Randolph Arms dressed appropriately for the theme of "Naughtily Nautical" or "Marvellously Maritime". There were enough pirates around to form their own armada, a couple of ship's doctors with very sick and bloody patients, Annette Lewis as Shirley Temple from the Good Ship Lollypop, Philip type-cast as a drunken sailor, two pregnant ladies doing their bit as "England Expects" and the Thorpe Brothers with their very own dessert island. No one envied the judges deciding on the best costumes, there were so many good ones, but the awards were as follows : A Fisherman's Tail - Ken Davis, The Figurehead of The Good Ship Venus (complete with ship) - Jane Goodman, Nelson and Lady Hamilton - John Donovan and Cheryl Flexton and a superb Nelson on top of his/her column covered in pigeon droppings - Karen Newstead. The undoubted success of the evening was Jennifer Carr dressed as Britannia draped with the Union Jack and accompanied by the appropriate music. We ended up singing many choruses with great gusto and for some reason also got onto "Land of Hope and Glory". David Redfern then announced the final awards of the evening and gave the Mike Carpenter Tankard, (which had been found in the back of a cupboard at the Hotel after three years of Mike Goodman feeling so guilty at having lost it) to Haydn Lightfoot. This was on the condition that he gets his wife's name engraved on it for the year's she had won it when it had disappeared. "My Body is a Temple" Award went to Brian Thorpe and Sarah Lightfoot and the Lecher's Award went to Mike's girl friend, Jackie (they made a lovely couple on the dance floor). The Worst Hangover was awarded to Judith Culpin, I mean a girl is excused taking to drink when her husband spends all evening playing with the Plus Fives. Finally the Imbiber's Trophy was jointly awarded to JD and Cheryl (or is it now Lady Flexton?).
On Sunday morning we were all grateful for the extra hour in bed, thanks to the end of British Summertime, and after breakfast quite a few of us met up on the Pier at Southwold where we succeeded in finding the Cranmog Plaque that we had donated in 2001. It was gloriously sunny but windy day and a great way to end yet another memorable weekend in Southwold.
Our sincere thanks go to Karen and David Redfern for all their hard work to organise it so well and to make sure that we all have such a good time.
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| Koblenz
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| A few photo's and captions of the Cranmog in Koblenz trip held during September 7th to 13th. Thanks to Brian Wake for organising this very enjoyable and successful event and making sure none of us got lost. (Hotel name looks like "Zum Schwarzen Baren", is that something to do with a black bear with a sore head Brian? - Webmaster)
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Mog '05
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This years international meeting was centred on Gaydon, hotels and camping within easy reach and a terrific setting for a car club do, but we've done Gaydon a couple of times before so this is the 'alternate' Mog '05 report. Mark Skelcher and Anita kindly invited CranMog to their new house in Harbury which is only a few miles from Gaydon and so very convenient for the weekend. With a large garden and spare rooms inside we all made ourselves comfortable, either in caravans, tents or bedrooms, about 18 of us in all.
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Friday night we went to the pub across the road for dinner then back to the house for drinkies into the early hours. Saturday after a fantastic breakfast, most of us went on a Mog '05 scenic run with the others, but Judith & I took the children to see Auntie in Kineton and gave her a run out in the Morgan - she was delighted. Saturday evening Mark and Anita fed and watered us on the patio, again until the early hours, the children all had a water fight and got soaked right through, and all the adults got soaked from the inside out.
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Sunday after another blow out breakfast we all broke camp and went along to Gaydon to meet the rest of the gang. All in all it was just like the good old days at Ilfracombe, Mark as usual providing excellent food and hospitality, aided these days by the lovely Anita ensuring we all have a damned good time.
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Le Mans '05
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This year's trip to Le Mans was inevitably tinged with sadness at the news most of you will by now have heard - the tragic and untimely demise of two of our number. In writing this report we are thinking of Simon Beadsworth and Paul Kettley who lost their lives in a road accident on the A28 autoroute near to Rouen. Our deepest condolences go to their families and friends. We have in our minds their grief at such sudden loss and we share in it. Warwick Clarke was also in the car and was injured but thankfully is now well on the road to recovery. Our thoughts throughout the visit were never very far away from the memory of what had happened.
The Cranmoggers who set forth were a very small part (probably the most important part - this is the Premier Centre!) of the mass exodus from the U.K. heading for Les Vingt Quatre Heures du Mans. It was estimated yet again that there would be between 80,000 and 100,000 Brits at the Circuit to enjoy and support the motor racing, and in particular this year, the Aston Martin Racing Team.
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Our rallying point on the morning of June 15th was Dover, for the crossing to Calais and then the onward journey to Rouen where we were to make an overnight stop in the luxury of an Hotel! On our arrival at the Hoverport (a first for many of us) it was a delight to renew old friendships and make new acquaintances. As well as Old Timers, we had a number of Brave Novices, and our party included Cranmoggers from as far away as Cornwall and well up into Shropshire. It was a fast and efficient crossing, but once on French soil the rain came down like stair rods and for those of us who had buried our 'lids' under piles of luggage the journey became an extended 'cold shower'. Arriving in Rouen we found our way to the Hotel Campanile in the Mont St Aignan district and bailed out - thankfully the evening sun shone through so things began to dry out. After settling in we all met up in the bar for a drink and were joined by Debbie White and Joyce Smith who had made the crossing a day earlier. The hotel is run by Sophie and Richard Swinburn and they did the Cranmoggers proud, dishing up an excellent supper. Being a particularly 'artistic, religious and generally cultured' group (Dallas' words, not ours) we were delighted to take the opportunity and share taxis into the centre of Rouen to attend a wonderful lights show in which the West Front of the great Cathedral is illuminated with pixels of Monet type images as well as modernist ones, accompanied by music. This takes place at about 11 p.m. every evening during the summer - really an updated son et lumiere experience, each show lasting about 20 minutes, and very well worth while. It had the added advantage of being entirely free ….. . So having had our dose of said culture for the trip, we returned for a night's sleep ahead of what should have been an easy journey down to Le Mans.
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In fact it was not quite as easy to extricate ourselves from Rouen as we would have wished, but with some dogged navigation along with our companions we finally succeeded. However, when we reached Le Mans and the Circuit we found we couldn't take the obvious route because of race preparations, and we didn't have the necessary passes to gain access to where we needed to be. We drove round for some considerable time (Arnage Village twice etc. etc.) before we finally found our way past various official checkpoints and through the forest to Bertrand Ledru and his campsite - Le Petit Midi - which is inside the circuit and only about 15 minutes walk through the woods to Indianapolis Corner. Bertrand, of course, had the passes that allowed us access practically anywhere we wanted to go! But we were not last - that honour went to Brian Tavener, in the only Morgan with satellite navigation, henceforth known as 'Sat Nav Tav'. Anyway, we just made it for a late salad lunch and welcome liquid refreshment. Peter Mead, accompanied by his grandson Ed, had not had such a good time of it - he got fined for speeding en route and was insulted that it should have been for doing 53 in a 40kph zone!
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Le Petit Midi was (to our cow shed accustomed eyes) palatial. A central block held the 'restaurant', bar, showers and loos, one of which was designated 'ONLY LADIES' of whom there were six in our party - Stephanie, Joyce, Debbie, Chris, Kate and Priscilla. The tents were set out amongst the trees and lived up to the descriptions Dallas had sent us - brand new and spacious; with an inner compartment containing 2 (new) airbeds and decent pillows, all with fresh white slipcovers. In the outer compartment we were provided with 2 plastic chairs - tho' for some of us, old habits die hard, and we took lightweight folding chairs which came in handy at the side of the race track, or for taking to the Pits. So we had only had to bring along sleeping bags and our necessaries. In the restaurant tables and chairs were put up, and later in the week more tables were set out in the main camping area, shaded by a canopy. We assembled in the dining area, and were joined by the gallant Vagabonds under the direction of Adrian Clements who were camping in the now famous Cowsheds in Parking Rouge - with all the usual inconveniences. Both groups were to remain their consistently inconspicuous selves by wearing the brightest orange "T" shirts, with the largest logos you have ever seen. These proudly displayed our affiliations, particularly for the duration of the Race. Bertrand welcomed us all and briefed us about his mini-bus (well, back-of-a-truck, actually) service proposed for the weekend.
From the time of our arrival it became increasingly hot. Those of us who had attended before had never seen so much rubber on the track as there was after the practice session on the Thursday evening. Some watched from the bend at Indianapolis. This gave an interesting new viewpoint, as we had never been able to view from inside the circuit at this point before. The curve at the end of the straight from Mulsanne (reputedly now the fastest part of the circuit), through the Indianapolis left hander and on to the tight right hander at Arnage just a few seconds down the road were all visible from our enclosure and the scene of spectacular action (the circuit that is, not the enclosure!) Almost at once we saw a car spin off to the left, which occasioned some excitable activity on the part of the Marshals. Bertrand took a truck load of us down to the Pits to get a feel for the atmosphere and suss out the important things like where to buy the Grand Marnier crepes. We all hopped, jumped, or were otherwise hauled up onto the back of the truck, and thereafter hung on as it bounced and lurched up to the pits area! On the way back later in the evening, we were stopped at a roadblock by the fearsome CRS - the French riot police. We were clearly a desperate bunch! We were herded off to one side whilst Bertrand was interrogated and they spent some time looking through their book to see what they could 'do' him for! Meanwhile we were held until Bertrand could organise cars to take us the rest of the way back to the campsite. They must have thought that fifteen English, mostly of a certain age but also including women and children, were capable of unimagined mayhem. On second thoughts, perhaps it was the ladies they were most frightened of…
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On Friday morning things assumed their normal pattern and with cars titivated we set off for Arnage corner. For the first time though, many other Marques (Corvettes and TVR's etc.) had the same idea, and had had the temerity to usurp the space we traditionally regard as Morgan priority parking! It was difficult to group the Morgans, including our Vagabond chums, all together. There were cars parked on both sides of the track almost down to Mulsanne, and the whole patch was heaving with Gendarmes (not a pretty sight nor one to gladden the heart). So not much chance of having a little squirt on the Track, and a rather different photo opportunity.
Later in the day the majority of Cranmoggers set off for a wine tasting in the Loire Valley and then on to a meal at a restaurant on the banks of the Le Loir river where the local dish called Potee Sarthoise Marmite was served up to the strumming of Claude (Le Patron) on his guitar and a Tango dancing demonstration by his wife Nicole. Those remaining did their own thing - either by looking up old chums and doing a bit of tasting themselves at lovely Amboise, or by having their first experience of watching the Parade des Pilotes (the wonderful procession of all the cars and their drivers through the centre of Le Mans.) Bertrand kindly arranged for the latter group to be ferried to the Railway Station, and arranged to pick them up from there later on. A few of us were prepared to 'self-cater' that evening, so paid a visit to a convenient Carrefour: but having had a chat with the two young girls getting 'catering experience' and helping with the food preparation under the watchful not to say characterful eye of Bertrand's mother in law, Chantalle, we were invited to pool our resources and have supper in their company in the Salle a Manger instead.
We retired quite early, but the Revellers were very good and did not disturb us. One benefit of the campsite was that we were far enough away from the fireworks not to hear them, and the actual track noise, although ever present from the time the race started, was at a constant level. We were surprised by both the quality and quantity of sleep we achieved during our sojourn.
Saturday dawned clear and rapidly became seriously HOT: indeed temperatures rose to 40°C on the track by late morning. Most Cranmoggers walked through the woods to Indianapolis to watch the late morning Classic race, complete with Stirling Moss in a Jaguar. Over 50 delectable thirties, forties and fifties cars were a spectacular sight and made a wonderful noise. Those at the front race very hard indeed, with no quarter asked or given.
Having had our appetites thoroughly whetted by the Classics we returned to the campsite to collect packed lunches, then headed off for the grandstand and pits area for the build up through to the start at 4 0'clock. One of the traditional highlights is the playing of the national anthems of all the entrants, when the English sing up with gusto, without any of the embarrassment so often seen at home. The actual start was the usual peak of excitement with a crescendo of sound as the cars all came through on the first lap.
The race itself was the usual unremitting sprint for the leading cars. This year it was thought that recent rule changes might give some of the other cars in the prototype class an advantage over the previously all-conquering Audi R8s, and as most of the serious opposition were Courages in one guise or another, French hopes were high. British interest largely centred on the return of the Aston Martin with the Prodrive DBR9s fresh from success at Sebring and Silverstone. However, ominously the Corvette C6-Rs were also serious contenders for the GT1 class. As usual the GT2 class was largely a horde of frighteningly reliable Porsche GT3 RSRs.
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Despite a good start by the 'contenders', by mid evening Audi was leading the Prototype class, and one or other was never headed thereafter. The Astons were highly competitive but in the end the one remaining car could not defeat the Corvettes. By Sunday afternoon, the surviving cars were still hard at it, some variously battered but still racing where it mattered. The Corvettes were circulating like a train, as if they were tied together.
One is always struck by the awesome effort involved in just reaching the end of the race, no matter how far behind. To be still running after 24 hours racing, especially in the heat of this year, is a staggering achievement for any team.
We all eventually returned to the campsite hot, tired and hungry. After wonderful cool showers and donning our best bibs and tuckers we all sat down to a truly memorable evening. The Vagabonds and Bertrand's extended family joined us for a Mechoui (a whole sheep AND an entire pig spit-barbequed). We raised our glasses to absent friends and thanked Bertrand and his helpers for their hard work. As the evening progressed, a gypsy-jazz trio led by Bertrand's son on a double bass, (reputedly rescued from a skip) entertained us. Wherever it came from, he produced a great sound and they played on well into the warm and velvet night…
Monday morning dawned and it was time to pack up, and after expressions of mutual support for the entente cordial with Bertrand and his family, we all left either for the drive north to Calais or south to continue holidaying in glorious France. The trip north was not without incident for some… Lotus Jim's Elise boiled up near Alencon, and was reportedly towed off the motorway by Terry Morgan using a Morgan luggage strap! However, we mustn't say anything unkind about the Lotus - we all know what the acronym stands for, and the trip wouldn't be the same without Jim!
Cars trickled into the dock at Calais and we boarded for the return crossing. We were a bit concerned that Derek and Priscilla in the only 4/4 were nowhere to be seen, but it transpired that, having left very early, they had been put on an earlier crossing. The cars were packed in the catamaran like sardines in a can, and we were right up in the bows under the deck. The Cranmoggers were all pretty quiet on the crossing, partly through tiredness but also very conscious that three good friends were not with us.
As always, we all owe immense thanks to Dallas Jones for his organisation and leadership; and his humour, skill, experience and effort in putting it all together. Thanks must also go to Darren, Dallas's son, for his help and support in the difficult circumstances of this year.
Many thanks to Kate Crofts and Pricilla Coley for this expertly written and sensitive report of this year's Le Mans trip which was originally sent for inclusion in Miscellany, but which never actually got into print until the February '06 edition. Fantastic photos too.
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