Day 7 (cont'd)Speeching and prizes finally over, we can grab dinner, drinks, and generally let our hair down.

... until Robert realises that one division was inexplicably left out, and he checks and announces the winner for it

@Crossed-up, relaxing. Can you tell the difference between his worried face and his relaxed face? Me neither. But he is an absolute sweetie, and I look forward to engineering our next meeting


Along with a few rally racers, Robert, John, Nicol and I party deep into the night. Earlier in the day I'd offered up my bite size Snickers to the enervated rally racers, and now I hand round my last Smarties. When the bar closes at 10 pm, Robert sends me to his top box. John and
@Scrat make an early getaway, but Claude and Charl still hang around, waiting for the showers to heat up, and join in the merriment. At some point, it transpires that Charl has lost his wallet, and they start looking for it. Everyone remembers that Charl had indeed pulled his wallet from his rally pants and flashed it around to everyone. Claude pats Charl down, but can't find anything. I also pat Charl down carefully, but indeed there is no wallet in his pants.
Charl and Claude carefully retrace their steps, and eventually they're back, Charl triumphantly holding a mud-splattered wallet aloft. He found it lying by the fence. Unthinkingly I take it, wipe it clean and hand it back to him. When I muse about the splatters later, I realise Charl must have gone to pee against the fence, and dropped (and inadvertently splattered) his wallet. And I wiped it clean for him...with my thumb

Soon Charl and Claude say their good byes and head for the showers.
Robert tells us he had thought I was someone important, and I spent all the time in the car chatting to John about people Robert didn't know, and that now he knows a everything about people he's never heard of. Also that he'd bought the Peroni to taste them, and that I'd drunk everything and he hasn't even had a single one. A little stung, I dive into the cooler box again and unearth one last Peroni, which I triumphantly hand to him.
Robert however is having none of that, he's on his Klippies and Coke now, and gives the opened Peroni to poor Nicol, after he takes a sip to taste it. He admits that he hadn't actually wanted Peroni. He had sent his daughter to buy him Stella Artois for the trip and she had returned with the Peroni

I head to my tent in the early morning hours. I'm sad it's over. I've developed a little crush on Claude, he's such a honey, with piercing blue eyes and a ready smile... Oh well, best get over it quick. Bet he's dating a supermodel back home

I fall into uneasy sleep and wake up much too early, unrefreshed but at least not babelas, and start packing up.