Perhaps the club ought to institute a formal goodbye ceremony at the end of each event...
LOL

Yes yes, my hands are up, some of us can be a tad sensitive at times.
What a good time son #1 and I had at Llanthony. We rolled up quite late in the afternoon because we'd stopped off to visit one of his chums enroute (in Gilwern) and I'd been happy there being plied with coffee whilst the lads played. However, upon arrival, many TC'ers made light work of getting the tent up and soon we were sat happily in the Priory bar having a natter with Pat and his son.
Returning to the tents to make scoff, we found that the temperature was, as forecast, approaching arctic levels. Dylan, being a typical five year old, found this no impediment at all to a bout of frisbee throwing, although I began to suspect frostbite was imminent.
We returned to the bar for an evening of natter and beer and it was great seeing those who had turned up: Steve Dalby, Dave and Pat, Martyn, Boyd, Pat and his son, Steve and his son, Jethro, Julian and Viv... although I'm sure I've missed someone out there. I was glad to get the chance to have a natter with the Stalwart (Jethro) and in a rare moment of
largesse I even bought him a drink. Dylan fell asleep on my lap and shortly after I had to call it a night... my earliest ever departure from that bar.
My son enjoyed an uninterrupted night's sleep whilst I was woken often by the sound of the wind as it bent the tent into all sorts of shapes. The wind was ferocious, but the tent (snaffled from a bin at a Dragon Rally) performed well and not even one peg pulled out despite the hammering it got.
We had to make a smartish start the following morning and we were back home on the dot of 12.
Dylan said that he'd had a great time and I was glad to have shared the trip with him.
Cheers
GC