Monday 10 August 2015

Eckie Thrupp - a Yorkie abroad.

I know I should not laugh... but everyone was having a chuckle. 

It started with - a Joke of the day email.  'Morning all. however it is a sad today, as I have been to the funeral of the inventor of 'Optrex'. However, I have to say their wasn't a dry eye in the house.'

Day1:
There we were sat near the Thrupp lift bridge watching the hire boats ram the bank on the turn 45 degree turn that you could wind the Titanic in. We were ensconced on one of the forms provided for viewing the public with an endless stream of hire boat entertainment. It had gone quiet and I was just observing the world go by. When a couple decide to hire a canoe. He gets in and settles down, so far so good. Before he can get a hold on the edge, she quickly steps in. One foot on the boat one foot on the bank. Big splash, she was not an un-happy little bunny as she was laughing with embarrassment. After she was retrieved from her predicament her demeanour changed. But it did not change until the first item was recovered from her pocket - which was her mobile phone.

Day 2:
Two small day boats at Thrupp have just passed us heading towards the Cherwell. The boat crews are all male, are already drinking and getting very boisterous. Its only just 11am, I think I can see where this is going.

Wow, the boats returned with 14 on each boat. With one or two individuals having to be lifted from one boat. There were people throwing up on the towpath. Others were being assisted to walk along the towpath. Its nice to know that all male stag crews are being discouraged.

Day 3:
We are still moored up at a very peaceful Thrupp enjoying the sunshine and watching the world go by. It's just after 11am when there is a narrowboat that passes through the Thrupp lift bridge heading towards the River Cherwell. There are boats moored up on both sides of the canal, but it is quite wide at this point and there is sufficient clearance for boats to easily pass. There are canoes on the water at Thrupp and everyone needs to take an extra bit of care.

Mr Grumpy arrives and decided that rather than hold back for a few seconds to let another boat who was proceeding towards the bridge on tick-over to come past the moored boats. He decided that he will force his way through. However, he has ill judged the distance between boats and is now bearing down on a moored boat. It is obvious to everyone that the boats are going to come together. So the moored boat owner starts to fend off Mr Grumpy's boat with his foot. 

At which point Mr Grumpy turns into Mr Nasty and decides that he does not like boat owners fending his boat off. He throws himself into a childish tantrum banging on about 'how dare you touch my boat.' He was in a childish, incandescent rage for which the old tradition would have ended up with the child's arse being tanned the same colour as his crimson, rage filled face.

It turns out that the petulant childish moron thinks that boats should not be moored up on Thrupp Boat Club moorings. That Thrupp boat club should not even be allowed to have moorings at Thrupp. Because as he shouted - if you moor your boat on the club moorings you can only expect other boats to hit them. In other words, he intended to hit the moored boat.

So today Mr Grumpy the owner of 'Jenny B' has been awarded. 'The WCP Award'.

Day 4:
We are sat on the towpath at the side of the boat. I'm enjoying a mug of hot Yorkshire tea. There is nothing better for riviving the spirits on a hot sultry day. But how wrong can you be.  When along come a pair of canoes with two ladies in each slowly paddling by. Nothing odd in that you might think - only they were all four wearing burkas. Me tea came down me nose and it was a while before I regained my composure.

So there we are, chattering away with our friends when the conversation turns to shopping. The girls are regaling each other with their various purchases and us buys are listening on in a half harted sort of way. When our male friend says ' tell them about the man in the shop.' 'What man' she says. 'The man who lost it and in a fit of rage told you to keep both dresses and just leave his shop.' says he. I lost it, it pressed all the mirth buttons. It was another while before I regained my composure.

I'm rather enjoying being here at Thrupp. 

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