As first team in and last team out, we bade farewell to our hosts. For some reason, no-one wished to shake my hand. After a morning of purchasing souvenirs and catching up on lost beers, we headed for the coach. Disappointingly, this had been a dance-free morning. The coach headed out through the empty countryside. On the trip to Billund Airport/Legoland we only saw a police car, that had pulled up a kitted Morris dancer on a bike.

Lunch was beer and chips. One of the airport shops could not understand why it was suddenly sold out of sweets called "Spunk". At last, the first dance of the day. Adderbury Lollipop Man was danced in the waiting area. One of the female staff was grabbed for Fieldtown "The Rose". The lift at the end was not our best, and poorly executed. Fortunately some of the team kept a strong grip of her undergarments, and led her off above their heads, at an angle of 45deg, as her head smashed through the flourescent fitting. Fortunately our flight was called, and we were on the tarmac before the sprinkler system came on.

There were a few passengers aboard our minature plane. Pete sat next to a woman. He immediately switched into his suave chat-up mode by telling her his analysis of the battle strategies adopted in the Napoleonic wars. We touched down in Birmingham for refuelling. It looked like poor weather ahead. Fortunately we met the pilot in the loo. After liberally entertaining him with our medicinal hip flasks and dancing Three Musketeers with him, we convinced him to deliberately fly into turbulence to frighten Richard. I think we over-did the drinks.

Once aloft, the plane headed for the nearest Cumulo Nimbus, whilst the pilot sang Pink Floyd's "Set the controls for the heart of the Sun" over the tannoy. The plane soon was rising and falling, like a roller-coaster. Unexpectedly, Richard announced "I think I'm enjoying this!". No-one heard him, as they were busy being sick.

On arrival at Manchester airport, all the team phoned their loved ones and said that the flight was delayed and that they were still in Birmingham. This bought them another few hours for serious drinking. H and I made our excuses and limped back to Noth Wales.

It is a long time now, since we returned. The feeling is returning to my feet. I'm able to keep down solids now, and the visits to the toilet have become less frequent. The doctor has said that my eyesight will return eventually.

Thanks again to Silkeborg. It will be impossible for any host team to match their hospitality in the future. Thanks to the Ring who made it possible. 288 meetings IS impressive. Thanks to Mersey for letting H and I join them on this trip. We look forward to the return of the repaired Big Mr.Blobby.

Introduction