Cannonball Run

You'd think that having a water-gun fight in the middle of a rainstorm would be a stupid idea. And you'd be right about that. But it was still loads of fun!

This week was the "Cannonball Run" which we had been hearing about for weeks, but still had no idea as to what it was. We were told to be either on the French or the English side, and that we would be participating in "a historically accurate re-staging of the 1812 siege of Badajoz".

When I turned up at the pub, I realised that I'd totally forgotten the one thing we were told to bring, a water pistol. However, someone provided me with a 1 litre water bottle, which I then used for the duration of the fight. I was impressed however with the amount of pre-planning that had gone into everything, as there were t-shirts for both the French and English side with everybody's name on them, and some folks were even dressed in Napoleon costumes. It was all amazing.

I'd joined the French forces, and apparently we were supposed to go out to lie in wait for the English forces as they passed through following the trail. So we ran out ahead, and got to our first ambush point. We adopted a strategy that later proved to be foolhardy, of hiding behind garden walls, which although it allowed us the element of surprise, when people charged in after us firing their water guns, we were without an escape route! Hence, I got quite soaked in that one... (not like the rain wasn't doing that already!)

We then chased the British forces to the next checkpoint, stopping along the way to refill our water pistols from the Thames. I will admit, I felt a bit bad about firing dirty Thames water on everyone, although you have to hope that it's not THAT polluted (but boy did it look gross!)

Every so often, we would come across "medics" who would ask, "Are you injured? You look like you need medicine" and have us take a sip out of their bottles, which were full or port. Definitely delicious!

The whole run was manic fun, until finally we all ended up at the top of the hill near Bermondsley. Where they had tons of drinks and everyone just stood up there, in the rain, trying to figure out who had won, because we were all soaking wet! Finally, after having really too much to drink, we made our way back down to the pub.

I was really feeling all of the drinks, as I hadn't been drunk in ages, but all of a sudden I was feeling awfully giggly. I spent most of my time talking to the Giant Australian, who seemed amused by my somewhat intoxicated state. I found out that he was actually a fan of black-tie events and the things that I enjoy going to, which only added to my confusion about him. I like him, but he just doesn't seem to suit me. He doesn't suit, does he?

Then something happened which forced us all to leave the pub, and everyone was wandering off to another pub, where at the last a wave of sanity gripped me, and I instead turned (without saying good-bye to anyone) and raced to the Tube station to make it home. (This turned out to be an incredibly wise move, as I learned from others the next day that there had been cabs and night-buses involved for everyone else in the saga of getting home). I texted the Giant Australian to apologize for departing without saying good-bye, and he made some joke about how he figured I'd snuck off with some hot guy. I then protested that there was no hot guy at home in my bed, to which the Giant Australian replied, "If he were... I doubt I would have seen you out so late. Sweet dreams, L." Slightly flirtatious but not overly so, a mixed message that was just mostly confusing. Perhaps it was time to sleep it all off...