Present: (in van order): Chris M, Ian W, Alison M, Heather T, Mark L
Alison writes: Wet, but not that wet, was my first cave ever. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I am no longer afraid of the dark, which is definitely an advantage in a cave. A poem:
Dark and gloomy, the cave was not that small,
Not that it matters, I am not very tall (neither is Chris).On the entrance pitch the smell was rather bad,
Poor Flossie the sheep was dead and rotting – it was sad.On we went, the cave getting wetter and wetter,
But further away from poor Flossie; the smell was better and better.Through a squeeze we did wriggle,
The disappearing arses causing quite a giggle.Chris held me brutally under a cold water-fall,
Before exiting on our final crawl.In the glistening light we sparkled like suns,
Before back to the van for Tesco Value Bourbons.
Heather writes:
But when we got there the cave was good fun.
Mark writes: Mark was ‘ere’. This is all Mark could write because he “couldn’t be bothered”. Poofter egh?!
Ian writes: A brilliant outing – Dusa really has been doing well lately: little phaff and a smooth, efficient underground trip. (Marred slightly by terrible traffic on motorway leading to a 3 hour outward-bound journey.)