Because it was there…

Our last attempt the climb the O2 was cancelled because of “…wormsign the likes of which even God has never seen !”.

We are however nothing if not a persistent bunch so we booked again for the 17:00 ascent, loiter and descent.

We nearly had a full complement, in no particular order (or at least in an order only known to me) we had:

The Scotch Giant

Kernel Flapjack

(Back by popular demand) e’ MC Jazzy Hogg (looking every inch the young sales exec, which may be a compliment, or it may not)

Your Author

The Flame Haired Temptress

The Grand of Duke of Pork

The Vampire Queen

The Super Soldier

Archduke Franz of Carpathia, alas could not make it, which was probably just as well, I will explain why later.

On arrival at base camp we meet our guide Carolina (Can’t you see the sunshine, can’t you just feel the moonshine?), a young foreign woman, e’ MC Jazzy Hogg’s eye (yes eye) lit up, a chance to flirt he thought, but as an experienced guide she could see him coming and quickly made her excuses. We watched the introductory video, were advised to drink some water and then to go to the toilet. We were then given our climbing gear, jacket, harness and shoes. Once we were all in our harnesses Carolina siad she would inspect them to make sure they were ok. e’ MC Jazzy Hogg quickly loosened the straps around his thighs in the hope that Carolina would need to have a fumble there, she however took one look at him and said “Hey salesboy, tighten those straps”, he slunk away thwarted again.

As organiser and natural leader I was asked to lead our intrepid band. Off we set, The walkway was raised slightly above the surface and was initially like a ribbed trampoline, “ribbed for extra pleasure” according to the Vampire Queen. as we climbed it became less steep and just before the summit the ribbiness disappeared.

Then the summit. We took numerous pictures, encouraged by Carolina to be inventive we all joined together to lift the Grand Old Duke of Pork over our heads, he took this as some sort of signal of his superiority, little did he know we were planning on tossing him off (thank you Max Miller)

The views of London were stunning, all of Multicultural London spread before us, black and brown and yellow and white, L and G and B and T, men and women. The Archduke Franz would have hated it.

The descent was similar to the ascent until the final stretch where it become exceedingly steep, however we all made it down safely.

Some of you may be asking what of Stefan, wasn’t he meeting you there. Well yes that was the plan, but the Flame Haired Temptress had kicked him into touch, she was not prepared to go into detail though there was some talk of “coffee and buns”. Alone among our intrepid band I had met him, let me say now I never liked him.

We had booked a table at the Pangolin for 9 people though. Kernel Flapjack said that Ma’aaam would be coming, who could he mean, the Queen, Margaret Thatcher, but no it was Mrs Flapjack.

The Pangolin had difficulties with their deliveries in the morning and a number of items were not on the menu, most critically mint, so no Mojito for the Flame Haired Temptress, she had to settle for a large Pinot, and as we know she does like a large Pinot.

The Super Soldier and I foolishly opted for pints of milkshake, which had an effect on our appetite for food later. Things were so dire that the Super Soldier could not even clean everybody else’s plates.

The Scotch Giant (personal reasons) and e’ MC Jazzy Hogg (had booked a massage !) had to leave early. They were sorely missed and we shall not see their like again, or at least not until tomorrow.

The was one final revelation before we made our way home, Kernel Flapjack explained that men did not feel the cold as much as women because of testosterone. If only he had know this as a younger man it could have saved a lot of embarrassment in that Soho club.

We are planning on a trip on the RIB boat, also ribbed for extra pleasure.


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