Mach, a place that inspires awe and reverence in the older members and anticipation and excitement in the freshers. A trip made to create bonds between our latest recruits and the older members of our organisation through the medium of drinking and maybe a wee bit of kayaking. Our adventure started in much the same way that many a canoe club trip has gone with the intention of being efficient and setting off early, however, needless to say this didn’t occur as inevitably, faff did ensue. Eventually, the minibuses did set off and the joys of a three and a half hour road trip Rothwell and CJ at the helm controlling the music were endured by all on their bus, one anonymous fresher described it as ‘#ravetunes’. At this point I’d like to put a shootout to our greying fox, Mr Fraser Simpson, for successfully completing the stubby challenge and to Mr MacLeod for attempting it with 2.8% beer. At least this was what I was told, as at this point, Tinkerbell, Reece and I were on public transport, stuck on a four and a half hour bus journey with the riff raff. Fortunately, I was sat next to Tinkerbell and therefore we didn’t have to put up with dreadful small talk from anyone on the peasant wagon. Reece on the other had the great luck of sitting next to one of the locals of Tarbert and for the next 3 hours they shared his premixed vodka coke at the back of the bus and formed a firm bond of friendship. However, you unfortunate souls, who are so incredibly bored that reading a poorly written blog by a dyslexic seemed like an appealing idea are not here to read about the joys of bus journey. By some miracles everyone seemed to arrive within five minutes of each other and the time honoured tradition for the race for the best sleeping spot did begin. With the preliminary activities out of the way the mayhem of Mach did ensue. Bottles were opened, cans were cracked and the merriment began (all in a very responsible fashion of course, with everyone only consuming as much as the NHS recommends). Surprisingly, everything went very well on the first night, until some moronic sod got the police phoned on us (not me…) for trying to sleep in the local hotel, who would do such a thing?!? Either way our glorious leader, Spewy McDirty, talked down the local fuzz and sent them scampering back to their doughnuts and warm car. The night then proceeded as planned, unfortunately, I can’t remember any of this but I am reliably informed that a Mr Callum Shanks tried to arrange an exclusively male naked swim, cheeky. This, in the end, became a group skinny dip which was at least partially clothed.
The following morning we all arose with the morning sun at a very civilised nine o’clock, despite some of us having been drinking till five in the morning. Swiftly everyone prepared with looks of excitement mixed with nausea (some of us can endure the rigours of a heavy night on the lash better than others). So, off trotted the cheerful adventures to do battle with the sea because apparently, Mach is about sea kayaking, I wouldn’t know as Tinkerbell and I were in the local drinking tavern perusing the beverages on offer. Eventually, they returned looking much wearier but with a glint of excitement, in their eyes having survived and come out battle-hardened from their fight with the Irish sea. Well, at least some of our valiant warriors did, at this point I’d like to throw a shout out to; Kirsty MacRae on an excellently executed forward flip culminating in her bursting her nose, Cinnamon Morgenegg (that is her real name) on her seal bodysurf (whatever that is) and to Maia Stables (Our young fresher who is being groomed to take over as social sec by the Salmon) who did a backflip and then went and threw up for a while (clearly incapable of handling her alcohol). We’ll skip over the next few hours as all we did was sit about and have food. Low and behold the inevitable did occur, the drinking resumed, hallelujah (though for some of us it never stopped). We all began to learn a bit too much about each other through the innovative drinking games came up with by our noble social sec and our resident strong man, Sam and Paddy. We discovered that I like Calum a bit more than is considered Platonic, that George, a living legend in the club is able to take down Hercules (Paddy) in a friendly game of Cornish sock wrestling (apparently that’s a thing) and that Spewy and her boyfriend, Brian (he’s a member of an inferior canoe club that’s name shall not grace this blog), enjoy taking pictures of them swapping saliva on other people’s phones whilst we were all distracted. The night continued in many ways like the prior one in that we all consumed alcohol in a sensible fashion and made sure we drank sufficient water to stay hydrated. This was until one of our highly respected older members was asked by a fresher to show her how the bus worked. So off set our valiant hero to acquire the keys from our glorious commodore, who happily obliged and gave him them over with an understanding look. This unsung hero happily showed our young freshers the inner workings of this fascinating automobile and eventually took her out for a ride in it.
The next morning was a more tedious affair with tidying having to be completed and packing up occurring. Once that was completed, we headed to the beach so that some hardy souls who were in need of an extreme hangover cure were allowed to enter once more into the fickle beast that is the Irish sea for one last paddle. Soon we all departed home, leaving behind a place we had all come to love. Friendships were forged, good memories were made and we shall never forget what was an incredible Mach.
xoxo
Gossip Greg
If you are feeling emotional after remembering that incredible trip or are touched by my story telling beneath is a link to some soothing music
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