A LATE, LATE NIGHT, AND IT’S ALL TIM THOMAS’S FAULT

Greetings from a sunny Larmer Gardens on Cranborne Chase where I’ve reached the end of the End of the Road and the tent is packed.

Back to life, back to the reality of ticking again.

I told you yesterday I’d managed to avoid the homebrew, and almost made it through to close sober, but for the evil influence of Ullage editor and good guy Tim Thomas from That Newbury.

Tim had proved elusive at the Festival as he carried out the vital function of Chief Executive, Programme Cabin (Sunday), and it wasn’t till we were both in the Garden watching Richard Dawson bring the place down with songs about 17th century tunic makers that we caught up after a minor disagreement about left and right. It depends where you’re standing, Tim. Or is that East and West.

I was then bullied into having a warm cider and seeing Monday in watching a “secret set”.

Warm Burrow Hill cider and secret sets by Darren Hayman are the basis of 98% of the End of the Road experience, the other 2% being a lack of toilet paper.

Inevitably, ale from up the road followed cider, as all long nights inevitably do.

And it was 2am before I finally said goodbye to the Pale and the peacocks and the perfect sound of chunky guitars.

Crucially, I avoided the chunky chips at 2am though.

Cheers Tim.

12 thoughts on “A LATE, LATE NIGHT, AND IT’S ALL TIM THOMAS’S FAULT

      1. Sounds like you had a great time/

        The only imperial stout I’ve ever regretted having was the one with lactose in it on my very first visit to Heist.

        Like

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