Zaphod

I am sorry to say that Zap, as we called him, or Zaphod, died on Sunday 27th September. He often wrote here, and was an expert on the Kraken

His friends and his family will miss him - and so will I. I am so glad I got to knnow him, and enjoy his friendship

Covered in Cow Poo

I havn’t been to Glastonbury for a couple of years, which convinced me that the place was quite normal, and my memory had just hazed over. The brain had just picked out the goofy bits.
Not so, it's in a different time warp, all right.



Of course, I enjoyed it, only morons and George Bush wouldn’t
The shops are full of dragons, fairies and green men, but I am made of sterner stuff and concentrated on the things that matter
Eating, yes, eating

I thought we would try the St George and Pilgrim hostelry again. My theory being that it couldn’t be as daft as I remembered.
It bloody was.





Me and the Pirate made our way there one Sunday evening. Most of the hotel was in darkness, no staff, nothing.
We found the bar, it had lights on, there was a human being behind the bar, sort of. Food yes, they had that. I found a table, and cleared the used plates and glasses. It’s like that in the George.
At least I didn’t have to go and cook the damn food; getting too adventurous I asked for dessert.

Big round eyes.



“The kitchen is closed” Past the witching hour of 8 o’clock, you see.
Right….”.coffee?”
He looked sadly at the coffee machine right beside him, conceding that they did coffee.

I have no qualms about eavesdropping on folk’s conversations – if people will talk loudly about their goofs in the George, I’m happy to listen.

“Yeah, he owed me 25 quid for the gig….so I got a string of lights instead” pause “So that was all right”
Going to be hungry, isn’t he?

Being a sucker for punishment, I insisted on going back there for a last cup of coffee before leaving “It might be ok”. Famous last words.
The George was doing well as usual; served the wrong meal to the wrong bod, and tried to give us more coffee, when we wanted to pay.




Of course, I walked to the Tor, all the way to the top.
It was covered in cow poo.
Yep.




And who is this weirdo..huh?