So my three week social whirl has come to an end with my return this afternoon from my Christmas Do/Weekend with work. It started on Friday as my team and I traveled down to Bristol to meet with one of our main suppliers for a meeting (it was really just lunch) in a fab place called Grillstock.
We indulged in some very fine bar-b-q style fare, which for me consisted of Pulled Pork with coleslaw, corn bread and fries. We continued our very productive business discussions in the local Patisserie Valerie for stupidly sickly cakes and a decent coffee. I live life at the cutting edge of business as you can see.
With business concluded we journeyed on out of Bristol and further south and west towards Minehead and our home for the weekend, Croydon Hall.
We had hired the whole place out for the weekend for the 45(ish) of us that were attending. It isn’t the most luxurious place in the world but it did the job of accommodating and catering for us and our needs.
After a few drinks on Friday night, Saturday saw us take part in a clay pigeon shooting and archery contest. Sure, it was one of those team building things, but it was all good fun, and I astounded myself by actually hitting the odd clay and getting one or two arrows into the target and not a colleague’s head.
As you can see we stood well behind anyone handling a gun or other weaponry for obvious reasons!
After hours of fresh air and friendly rivalry (I say that as I didn’t win), we retired cold and hungry to our house and got ready for the evening ahead. We had a surprisingly good Christmas meal, which is noteworthy as typically a mass catered festive meal has all the culinary charm of Anthony Worral Thompson’s Y Fronts. More drinks were had and the younger folk did some dancing to that modern music the kid’s enjoy so much. I, and some of the other more senior members of the party spent most of the evening in a quieter area of the place drinking at a sedate pace and chatting. Tartan slippers were optional.
After a second rubbish night’s sleep, on a bed that was thinner than some sandwiches I have eaten, we had another full English, packed, tidied and hit the road by ten.
All in all it was a great weekend, and with it all paid for by the company I have to say I am very grateful that they take the trouble and expense to look after us so well. I would say that if you were wondering just how many miles it is from my house to Minehead, the answer is too many. That was the only issue with the whole thing, and some four and a half hours later, I arrived home never wanting to see the inside of a car again.
This young chap who works for me had a more extreme experience than many of us older folk, which at nineteen I suppose he should. Having had it very large on Friday evening, just a few hours later he was handling live firearms in a field. If that doesn’t say Christmas I don’t know what does. He took it a little easier on Saturday, however, having ripped him out of bed at 9.45 on Sunday morning, to then have him in the car five minutes later he spent most of the journey home like this.
He drank too much and stayed up too late, and at his age, he bloody should!
I shall now retire from social engagements for the foreseeable future as frankly I am knackered.
Till the next time…..
One thought on “Large Weapons and Long Journeys.”
I’m so glad you had trousers on in that picture the mirror may have shown some of the areas we would not like or want to see