Fatlo.af

Yes ladies and Gentleman, it’s occurred again. The F&L Tour has been an institution since Bill and I started it back in 2004, It had been on hiatus for a while due to excessive laziness. It was bound to happen.

I feel confident in my description of this event, it was indeed fat and lazy.

So lazy in fact that even when Bill got accosted with molten golf ball he didn’t even get up, even his exclamation of pain was lazy. I’d go as far as to call it apathetic, as though the pain itself was an inconvenience he had to endure before he could get back to reclining, not an indication of potential injury.

But more on that later.

The team that had been assembled for this riverland jaunt was the following: Alex, Greg, Grum, Paul, Bill, Kieran and myself. This time around we headed up to the River Palms Holiday Park, on the Sturt Highway just north of Blanchetown. It’s right on the Murray, quite a nice spot.

For me the day started with assembling a shed at my sister’s place with Dad. For the rest of the crew, they left Bill’s place some time in the early afternoon, a reasonable 3pm from memory. I didn’t leave Nicole’s until about that time but I made fairly good time in getting down there so I wasn’t too disappointed.

This is where the fun started, Paul “Pillowmint” Johnson (known herein as Petal thanks to a suggestion from my sister) had decided during the week that sleeping in a cabin would be much better than sleeping on the cold, cold ground with the rest of us. When he informed the Campmaster (Bill) that this was his intention, Bill illicited a sort of incredulous response to me about it. It was then that we started to work on a list of names we could call him and the things we could do to his cabin while he slept. There were plans and they were grand.

Alas this was not meant to be, however, it did turn out for the better. At least for us.

Now, what I say here is only from hearing it from others as I wasn’t there but apparently the conversation went something like this:
Bill: Hi, you should a booking for 6 under Bill for tonight in the campground.
Camp Attendant: Yes indeed, blah blah blah.
Petal: You should also have a cabin booking for Johnson
Camp Attendant: (without even looking at the booking sheet) Nope.
Paul: … (jaw on the ground)
Alex and Greg: BAHAHAHAHA!

The weekend, for us, was already off to a good start.

I arrived about an hour later, barrelling down the Sturt Highway, going some kilometer’s an hour. Upon arriving at the camping ground and heading down the back of the holiday park to where the boys were situated it was announced fairly quickly that I should “ask PJ where his cabin is”. The mere mention of this question brought much laughter to the group and of course I asked the question to Petal.

You all now know the answer.

Some theories have come to light since then, the most prominent being that Bill had actually cancelled the booking during the week and since Petal didn’t confirm his booking closer to the date, it slipped through.

The camping trip had begun, we were all happy to be there, the weather was fantastic and we had plenty of alcohol, meat and sporting equipment to keep us happy. The flames from the fire stretched well into the night as did the incredible amount of meat Bill cooked up.

It was after we’d all eaten that “happy funtime with the fire” began. As with most male’s we are more than happy to throw things into a fire just to see what would happen. Bottles, lids, marshmallows, even corn chips. Petal specifically went on a drive down the road (quite literally, just down the road to the BP, not 5mins away. He took an hour to do it) just to get Iced Coffee and Doritos. It was when PJ decided that a golf ball would be a good idea to put in the fire. A golf ball being a tightly wound ball of rubber encased in plastic. Both of which are likely to react badly when heated to several hundred degrees celsius. This statement wasn’t too far wrong.

During the ensuing explosion of said golf ball, Bill exclaimed in what could only be explained as slightly less apathy than normal and the classic emergency exclamation, “I’m not kidding”. You add that to the end of any sentence and bam! You’ve got an emergency. Try it.

Hence the title of this post, Bill got plastic in his eye and he wasn’t kidding. The result of said explosion was some molten plastic across his eyelid and constant whining about it for the rest of the trip. Mainly directed at Petal which we were all completely fine with.

After that the night moved on with relative ease. More drinking, eating and then subsequently sleeping. Although, the sleeping bit took a bit to get going as Kieran depressurised himself in the tent that Petal was also in which, along with some choice comments, amounted in Petal laughing for quite some time with us egging him on constantly.

Ole!

The trip back was an event in itself, thanks to Bill we were all equipped with walkies and used them excessively. Any bit of information that could be passed on was done so in a professional manner. It all added to the fun.

I would rate this one as the best one we’ve had, a thoroughly good amount of fun was had by all. We’ll be doing it again. Maybe Petal will get a cabin this time.