Pictures provided by Scott Cecil.
Camber Sands Scooter Rally 2010 – Part 1 The Journey
The football season is over, the days are longer and the pollen count is up, This means one thing in my mind, the scooter rally season is upon us!! The highlight of the scooterist’s calendar is the Chelmsford Scooter Clubs, Camber Sands Rally down on the South East coast.
The 80 mile journey is ‘just’ the right distance to get to by scooter and here is the story of the arse-aching adventure.
The best laid plans always fail, thats why we tend not to make them. So the idea was that the 8 of us would travel down on a mix of scooters and cars. Then as with any bright idea, it soon fizzled out. My old man had left work late, meaning he couldn’t ride his Lambretta SX200 back from the west end as it had no lights, Hemsby Hogg’s had gone caput, Stock’s was finger tip deep in grease replacing a carburettor and Potter is just useless.
So after a mad dash to pick up the SX in the morning we were down to 3 scooters and the rest in cars. We finally leave Thurrock 3 hours later than ‘planned’ and without meeting up with another 15 lads from Brentwood, and thankfully the rest of the journey is spectacularly uneventful.
This obviously doesn’t make for good reading, I know you all want to hear about the journey from hell, where we end up in some backward country village and are forced to sell a few body parts in exchange for safe passage through the town but alas, not today.
Riding through the great land we call Englandon, on a scooter is one of the finest experiences you will ever come across.
As we get closer to the coast the never ending stream of petrol stations slowly start filling up with more and more scooters. Men and women of all ages, on an endless array of vespa’s and Lambretta, each as unique and stunning as the last. From the custom TV175 down to my crappy, T5, each scooter has its own story and all are welcome.
We hit the final stretch and thoughts turn to the first beer of the day. After 2 and a bit hours, your mind tends to wander a bit and there’s nothing like the promise of beer to focus it. Open up the throttle and feel the wind and bugs (bloody bugs!!) fly past your face. Finally were there, park up, helmet off, wallet out. Now where’s that bar?
Camber Sands Scooter Rally 2010 – Part 2 The Weekend
So, here we are again, Camber Sands holiday camp. Beautiful weather, beautiful surroundings (if you like 1960’s holiday parks) and about 5000 people all intent on dancing and drinking the next two nights away. The fridge has been stocked, and our bellies fed and its to put on our best threads and head out. Tonight me and my ever faithful china, Neilshafto, are going all out. I’m wearing my blue super slim suit and blue candy stripe shirt and Neil sports a plum (almost slim) suit and its no surprise that we look rather fetching, when you take a peek at the labels, (thank god for Ben Sherman!).
We all head to the hall (well almost, it’s 9 o clock and were one man down already, Bennie has felt the long cold shaft of the recession and has been drinking since mid-day, he’ll not make it out tonight, but we wont allow him the sleep he craves), the first band are ok but we head to the bar and get our mitts on a few beers to kick the night off. The next band come on pretty soon after and soon were all bopping along to the sounds of the Stone Roses courtesy of the tribute band Adored. A few beer’s later and even our feet are moving. Time then to switch to the ‘easier to handle on the dance floor’ jack and cokes. Last band of the night are Definitely Mightbe, an Oasis covers band, who also just so happen to be the previous band. After much jumping, flailing of limbs and drinks the band finish up and its back to the safety of the bar. The drinks take a leaf out of Noah’s book and now come in there two’s. Before I know it the band are back on for what they call an encore, reality is that the encore is nearly as long as the original set!
The rest of the night is a mixture of drinking dancing and stumbling back to the apartment to wake and annoy Bennie the deserter. Eventually the legs give up on us, the heart is willing but the energy just isn’t there. One by one we fall back to the safety and security of our beds. Sleep doesn’t come easy when the sun is already beaming in through the windows but slowly I drift off into slumber.
Saturday, much to do and much to see, not forgetting of course that we have the small matter of the world cup quarter finals to enjoy. While most people enjoy a nice lie-in after a night of drunken dancing, there are those weird freaky people who just have never encountered a hangover. Unfortunately I am not one of those people. So when at 9 o clock people start up their scooters its like a dagger to my heart. In a instant I’m awake and with no chance of any more sleep. I look, feel and move like death. Not a pretty sight. All around me people are moving, talking, laughing and revving them bloody scooters. I feel like a POW who has been though months of sleep deprivation and then dropped into the middle of the Rio Carnival.
Mid day comes and the scooter ride-out starts, hundreds of scooters descend on the road together, it a magnificent sight, beaten only by that of John Terry missing a Champions League Final Penalty. But alas, I am not there to witness it, the JD and Cokes that were my friends last night have decided that they have had enough of my company and would like to leave immediately, the comfort of darkness and solitude is what I crave. But hey, at least no-one is revving them bloody scooter’s no more. The rest of the day is spent watching mindless TV until finally its time to somehow ready ourselves for the night out. This is done the only way I know how, JD’s a shower and a few more JD’s.
The line up for tonight is disappointing but still worth the effort of getting out of bed. Smodati are a four piece from Italy and they don’t disappoint, they have a energy about them that lift’s the room and slowly but surely more and more people start to liven up. Headline act of the weekend are the Lambrettas, a mod revival band from the late 70’s/early 80’s.They play a simple set of new and old songs with a few cover’s thrown into the mix, but what everyone wants to hear is “Poison Ivy” undoubtedly the hit of their back catalogue. As the band finish thoughts turn to the Northern Soul Dance Competition downstairs in the “Soul Room”, here everyone who dares is welcome to strut their stuff on the dance floor until you get the dreaded tap on the shoulder from one of the judges. As the dancers are whittled down the moves get better and better, the spins are tight, the drops are err dropalicious?, and the footwork could give Michael Flatley a run for his money. The winner is announced and now its back upstairs for some more dancing and drinking until once again my leg’s decide that enough is enough and my bed is where they would rather be.
And that’s that for another year, the scooters, the dancing and the drinking are what bring people back here year after year. A good time had by all and now all there is to worry about is the long arduous journey home, wonderful. Still, I wouldn’t change a thing!
