It's an 'Orse, Mate

I knew Sunday was coming. It has been a source of angst, because I knew that I had a playdate booked with Flynn the Scout for Minecraft, Minecraft and yet more Minecraft, but I also knew there was a funfair thingy going on for the whole weekend on our glorious seafront.

Come, come, dear enchanting Demi-God Mungleton, I hear you cry, it's not so bad. But it is, because they wanted me to cycle down there and I was only prepared to go if I could be driven there.

This meant an ongoing battle and I hoped it would go away. Cycle or walk, they said, so I opted for walking, because I totally hate cycling, it's so boring. It was 1.9 miles, although privately I believed it to be 37, taking 3 1/2 hours. If I'd known the drudgery could have been over in 8 minutes had I chosen to cycle, I wouldn't have needed that ice cream to take my mind off how angry I was at the imposition of a 37 mile yomp.

Checking out the funfair, we met owls and hawks and donkeys and a man carving wood with a chainsaw and ponies and sheep and some kids having a throw-the-wellington-boot competition and geese and dog races and ferret races and there were multiple stalls of foodstuffs of all nations but I don't think they were allowed to cook the hawks and owls. I am too old for the helter-skelter and the carousel thing where the horses go round, and I don't drink beer. So I am in an in-between age bracket. This is possibly why I didn't see anyone I knew all day, and I know a lot of faces.

Suddenly a vast parade of ponies thundered past with their traps and they had time trials and I watched as they cantered round the course, cantilevering between traffic cones. Nearby were the Shire Horses and you can hire them for a wedding procession with posh carriages and Champagne, and I can tell you they have massive butts.

And that was pretty well it because I wasn't prepared to walk past the county show to the actual funfair by the War Memorial (which is where all the kids with plastic swords were coming from) so we did some rock-hopping in front of the Pyramids and found Canoe Lake (not Gnu Lake, that's in Kenya) where I took the chance to go bungee-trampolining again. I tried and tried but couldn't do a somersault, but who cares with all that laughter.

Jof took pity on my tired feet and we waited for a bus while Bud walked home to prove a point. He got home first but I consider myself the victor as I sat down all the way home. Later, Flynn came round and we played Minecraft, against all plans.