15 June 2013 (Saturday) - Dover, SingStar

I was really late to bed last night, and had no burning need to be up particlarly early. But still I woke at 4am. I pootled about for a bit and watched some DVDs until my beloved emerged from her pit.

The Lisa-mobile arrived and we set off to Dover. There is a geocache in the drop redoubt rated 5/5 - very difficult terrain; very difficult to find. Bearing in mind that the drop redoubt isn't open very often we thought we'd try for it today. 5/5 caches aren't common and we didn't want to turn down the chance to find it. It was actually a relatively easy cache to find.

We'd taken Furry Face with us. Dogs were allowed in. I've been there beefore so I knew what to expect. For some reason I didn't think they'd be doing re-enactments. They were. The bangs of the rifles terrified the poor pup. I took him out, but he was shivering in fear. I sat quietly with him, but he was inconsolable, actually having a tiddle acident when one particularly loud bang went off. Poor pup.

We soon left the drop redoublt and wandered the Western Heights looking for other caches. We found three more. One of which was particularly ingenious. I had hoped to do a bit of tunnel-ratting, but someone had securely fastened the entrance to the St Margarets deep shelter, which was a shame.

There were picnic tables at the car park and we watched the ferries coming and going before moving on to Samphire Hoe for a wander. Samphire Hoe is rather scenic, but it is also very windswept.

And so home. I mucked about ordering more lego on-line for a while, and then the clans gathered. We then wandered round to Denmark Road for an engagement party. Cans of spitfire were poured down necks along with lager and sambucca. There were rumours of mankinis, but only rumours.

We got the Singstar out. I lost comprehensively - even at Wizzard and Sparks when singing against someone who wasn't born until twenty years after Wizzard and Sparks heyday.

And so home. Leaving the womenfolk crashed on the sofas I tootled off to my pit, hoping that over a gallon of booze would have a soporific effect. It usually does.