Our most popular hostel weekend began with a certain amount of amusement. Brett had been entrusted to obtain the box of fireworks from Torquay and was waiting at Totnes with said fireworks stowed away in his rucksack when the eleven arrived from Buckfastleigh. There was then a three-pronged hunt through the town's fruit shops in search of some pumpkins for the 'Pumpkin Carving Competition'. Sadly there were none available and so a couple of medium-sized swedes were obtain instead.

The ride to Maypool was punctuated with a number of mechanical problems, providing some some degree of variety on this rather grey afternoon. Dodo's saddle persistently refused to remain attached to the bike, and his handlebars seemed similarly discontented with life awheel. Then there was Jason's slow puncture and Warren's chain .. so it was well dark when we finally arrived at the hostel!

Last year's display, organised by the wardens, was undoubtedly excellent, but sadly it made a big loss for the hostel. This year they were under strict instructions to take no risks, so we were asked to buy our own fireworks. A £20 box could not hope to compete with last year's £100 box, but the evening was entertaining and no-one had to pay more than 50p.

The evening was nicely rounded off with hot dogs, drinks and the famous pumpkin competition, this year attracting two teams. The warden (who was our judge this year) felt that one swede had better artistic quality whilst the other looked more professional, and so declared joint winners.

The self-caterers soon learned the benefits of claiming their milk on arrival at the hostel as they waited patiently outside reception until 8.30am. At Maypool the shop doesn't open until hostel breakfasts have been served and completed!
During the prolonged preparations for departure there was some consternation at Mark's efforts to pump his tyre to the state pressure with the assistance of his new pressure gauge. We had travelled not more than a few hundred metres when a loud explosion shattered the tranquillity of the Galmpton lanes!

A few souls left us at Paignton as we set off along the sea front route to Brett's house, where refreshments were enjoyed. We then proceeded to the Newton Abbot pick-up, arriving one hour late and just a few moments before the two Johns had given us up for lost.