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Calm down readers, for this one time, and this time only the sexy and highly moustached club treasurer is putting fingers to keyboard in order to deliver his factually accurate and unbiased account of the madness that was the Teifi Tour. For those of you cursed with ignorance the Teifi Tour is an annual kayaking event held in deepest Wales in the small town of Llandysul. Attended primarily by university clubs it consists of two wild evenings of merriment with a bit of a paddle down the river Teifi if anybody is feeling particularly enthusiastic. This year we decided to take a crack team of paddlers who would represent for Cardiff Uni Kayakers with the upmost dignity and sobriety.
And so our story began on the evening of Friday 28th of October when, to the sound of some classic sea shanties, our assorted vehicles departed Cardiff in search of adventure on the high rivers. Many pumping shanties later the sexy, and at this time highly bearded, driver deposited his passengers in a bog which someone appeared to have mistaken for campsite. This writer can only assume that the Welsh for ‘really ----ing muddy bog’ and ‘luxury camping facilities’ are the same and that due to an administrative snafu we were assigned the former rather than the later. Nevertheless we ineffectually pitched our tents and donned our pyjamas. I’d like to be able to say that at this point we all retired to bed and woke up fresh faced the next morning all eager for a darn good paddle. Alas what actually transpired was a wild pyjama party in the communal marquee, a marquee in which someone had foolishly placed a pool and a bar. Your hero must now confess to a certain degree of haziness regarding specific details of the party as, spurred on by the irresponsible club president, he may have consumed a touch too much cider. Vague memories of a penis photo, an attack on an impromptu mosh pit and a manic head banging session with the club secretary do persist and I can only assume other members of the club indulged in similar activities throughout the night.
The following morning we all awoke feeling refreshed as the sun beamed down upon our upturned faces...No wait; it was the exact opposite of that. The bog was boggier, the fog had progressed to a persistent drizzle and certain members of the club looked as though they were not long for this world. Personally my own digestive system felt less stable than an isotope of Beryllium 8 (which has a half-life of 70 x 10-18 s). In spite of this we pensively donned our kit, then un-donned it to go to the toilet and finally re-donned it before loading our boats into the shuttles provided and heading off to take the adventures that befell us. (Mainly kayaking adventures as it turned out). Upon arrival at the embarkation point the club split into small groups and each made its way down the river at its own pace. Unfortunately I can only attest to the heroic actions of the group of which I was a member. Codenamed ‘Team Haddock’ and expertly led by the club vice president we made our way down the river tackling each section of rapids with a causal insouciance that made other paddlers jealous. As far as I can remember none of the kayaking freshers in Team Haddock ever got their faces wet, this was certainly not true in some of the lesser groups! Despite the unending precipitation everybody had a good time (or at least pretended they did) as we paddled through the picturesque Welsh valley. The Teifi passed directly by the really ----ing muddy bog that was our home so we stopped there for a bite of lunch before continuing down to the hardest and final section of rapids of the day, Henllan falls. After inspection of these grade 6+ rapids the more experienced / foolish paddlers decided to brave almost certain slight bruising and take on the mighty river. Alas the only photographic record of this mammoth achievement appears to show an anonymous but sexy and highly bearded paddler navigating the torrent whilst in perfect control of his boat!
“But enough of paddling,” you say,” who cares about that? I want to know about the epic party on Saturday night!” O.k. calm the ---- down, here goes: It was fancy dress with the theme being ‘T’. The club decided on the theme of tramps and I’ll leave the following photo below to show you the differing ways that this was theme was realised:
Actually to recount all the events of the evening would make an overly long blog even overly longer so I’ll just say that as the alcohol flowed and the pool water emptied (onto the surrounding spectators) certain already scantily clad members of the club became progressively more scantily clad to point of no cladding whatsoever. But before you shake your head in disgust at the hedonistic debauchery of it all fear not; for amidst the mud and sweat true love blossomed. Yes that’s right readers this is also a love story! For the sake of their privacy the two star-struck committee members involved shall remain nameless but suffice it to say that in one of the Cardiff tents that night it seems likely there was a love scene the likes of which you’ll never see in a Hollywood blockbuster. (It must have been a somewhat muddy affair). But wait the party resulted in more than just the union of two hearts, important scientific discoveries were made and a few are now documented: Tesco’s luxury suspenders make putting on wetsuit boots much easier, fishnet tights do not form an effective base layer, kayaking dangers pale in comparison to those of a drunken shoulder ride and the president and vice president of the club can pass as disturbingly hot women. (I had some very confusing emotions that evening).
Alas I fear this humble blog is beginning to drag so I’ll skip over the paddling events on Sunday other than to say team Haddock was once again bitching with one member even attempting a first descent (of that day) down an un-established route just before the get-off. Everyone once again either had a good time or pretended so. Departing later that afternoon we bid a fond farewell to the bog that had been our home and arrived back in Cardiff just in time for your hero to enjoy a massive carvery with a few other club members. Looking back I’d have to say that was probably the highlight of the weekend however I’m sure other participants would disagree! Thank you for reading and let’s hope the club runs the trip next year (provided the sexy and hard working treasurer doesn’t bankrupt the club of course).
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