Norfolkian heaven ?

How crushingly depressing, wall to wall coverage of the blimpics & being the fine athletic specimen that I am I can't be doing with all this running, jumping & chucking of stuff, complete waste of energy in my book. Now if Ale consumption be it timed, quantity or distance (yard of Ale) & Barbecuing were to be made blimpic sports I'd probably have a more avid interest, but as they ain't the subjects moot.

The Witchy one was to be away Saturday evening (she said it was a birthday do, but I know the real reason......it was a coven meeting) so to alleviate the boredom myself & the Grimlin accepted an earlier invitation & headed off to pastures ploughed & the conviviality of a Germing "Trekker treff". No, I'm not slipping into the realms of the spotter of farm implements, but one of the lads I work with is an able advocate of the joys of tractors (owning his very own Hanomag that's the tractor & not the half track) along with his Lady friend who also owns & cabbies about on her very own Schlüter (also a tractor ), made us welcome (I'd come prepared, I'd brought some good "Tommy Beer" & Jockeen amnesia ambrosia with me) & introduced us to the tractor troop.

Once in the "Laager" (I think it's a Germing thing) a stubble field out on the plains, heavy equipment dotted all over the place, various shelters pitched & parked, campfires & barbies lit & enough booze to slate any thirst, I was just waiting for them to burst into marching songs & I'd of been off, but they're better behaved nowadays. Anyhow initial drinkies & intro's over, we were shown around the site, the "Beer Tent", "Bratty stand", "Fische bude" working thresher displays, powered by a "Donkey" engine , dodging nippers on mini tractors (motor mowers without the pointy sharp bits), tents doing sales & swappsies on tractor parts, souvenir tents, (there's only so much branded tractor clobber you can decently wear in my view ) & rows of tractors from the vintage to modern, all being fawned over, lovingly fondled & stroked & their individual virtues extolled & expounded by their owners & disciples. Then in displays of pride & joy the beast would be fired up & driven around to Ooh's & Aaah's of the Trekker faithful, that was enough for me so then it was back to the Beer tent.

After mingling over a beer or few it was back to the Bivvy area, there to conclude some Anglo-Germing fraternisation & have a few more sweety nippies & exchange notes on our Countries Beers. Henry set too to burning bratties, which were much needed to balance the alcohol levels & as is always the case when folk sit round supping & shooting the breeze we covered all the worlds ills & put them to rights. During all this the Grimlin was helping folk finish their sossies, & most anything edible in return for letting them give her a fussing over.

But as with all good things ...... the phone eventually started jangling away, it was the Witchy one, the Coven time was over & she was just lining up the broomstick for take off & sorting flight plans out, so my raggedy arse needed to be ready for collection. I had about 20 minutes, so of course it was "one" ???? for the flight ! Yeah I know nothing ever comes in ones. when she eventually landed it was dark & the following conversation took place.
"where are you ?"
"By the caravan ! ", a short pause
"Which one ?"
" The one by the tractor, with the lights on !"

You will recall dear reader, this was a tractor meet & as such ........from the last few comments, it can be gathered I wasn't really functioning to smartly definitely time to go home. With the aid of some dayglo yellow snap lights, some furious waggling & much shouting, Mr.Pathfinder here was able to get reacquainted with Wifey & safe transport home.

I was allowed to finish off my beer, then it was in to the jallopy, under scrutiny, some shaking of the head & looks of here we are again from both the Grimlin & Wife, then the journey homewards in which I am accused of gibbering & labbering, then the cardinal sin of wanting to go to Mc Duffs, actually going there & getting something to eat while under the influence, allegedly guilty on all counts by the way & tried in absence.

Ah well, at least while I was at the meet I didn't once hear those immortal words, "Runter von meinem Land !!!" or "Runter from meinem Trekker !!!" (Get off my land/Get off my Tractor) the whole day so I couldn't of been all bad, in fact at one point I was actively encouraged to get on a tractor. Still, I don't think I'll be moving to East Anglia any time soon.

Take care all, that's15 minutes of your lives you'll not get back again & thanks for reading .....

Piccies :- The main attractions, Mines bigger than yours, Life in the Laager, Some tractors, Young love in the stubble, Ageing sparkle, Why's there a Krooklok on here ?, When nations meet.

Attached Thumbnails