Isle of Wight 2009
28th-31st August 2009 (Bank Holiday)

In no particular order ... attended by Eddie, Mick, Steve, Mark, Rob, Dave, Darren, Churchy and Les

Puncture repairing

Loading scooters onto the ferry ...

Crossing The Solent to the IOW

The weekend retreat and the club house ...

Don't look too hard if you are of a nervous disposition!

Early morning swim for the lads ...

Neville Staples on stage ................ Pauline Black with Mick (honest!)

PLVSC's new 'Stig' complete with gimp mask!

Two of our scooters on the workbench - thanks to Ital Scooters for getting them running

Scooters at Ryde

Setting off to see Madness ...

Having secured VIP backstage passess .... Dave with Jerry Dammers

Dave with Chas Smash and Suggs

Caravan down-grade following riotous behaviour!! Rob and Les with Jerry Dammers

Les on stage 10 minutes prior to Madness!

Packing for home ................................... waiting for the ferry

Ouch ... Darren's accident on the way home and his poorly scooter

All home safe and reasonably well, if not a little tired!!!

War and Peace aka a writeup of the weekend by Paul (Churchy) Churchill ...

IOW Part One: The trip all started on Thursday night when I decided to do some repairs on my already running well Lambretta. Like an overly expectant child waiting for father xmas to arrive Friday was upon us (bloomin early). After loading the scoots it was up the road to meet the gang. All present and correct, oh wait on where is Les, that became the theme of the whole trip. Come the agreed half six we departed. Poor Mark hadn't arrived so faced a lonely ride to Northampton. We arrived in Northampton in good time to meet the boy and girls of Strangetown et al. Mark arrived sometime after without a whimper we left all together deciding to go it alone. At out first stop we already sensed problems. My lammy was wheezing at the strain of low compression and Laney's Vespa was showing why you should occasionally service your scooter before embarking on a trip to IOW. With Mick and his magic spray we were off again. Sadly our first casualty was Dave. His GP had developed a what we thought was a fuel problem which later became a knackered stator plate. It was curtains but by now the scary Motorway and layby was teaming with scooters and back up vans, one of which kindly offered to take Dave and his scooter to the Port. It was my turn next as we left was our final fill up, the faithful TV 200 died. Diagnostically speaking it was not working. The rest went on to meet the others at the port where Dave was waiting whilst I had to again rely on Mrs Nash to take me the rest of the way.

Part Two: I lost the 'push a lambretta onto the ferry contest'. On, savoured a well deserved beer courtesy of Mick and Denmarks finest export. Despite ringing round we couldn't get hold of Messers Spires and Nick from Ital but thanks to the top blokes from Stamford and Grantham the arrangements were made for Dave and I to be taken to Smallbrook via Tranny. The other side we said bye to the rest and Dave and I downed a couple at the nearest pub in Cowes. Before long were met by the lads in the van and squeezed into the back. En route to Smallbrook we both regretted that last beer and without a bog in site, thankfully a nearly empty bottle of 2 stroke became a welcome relief. God help the bloke who used it as lubrication. At Smallbrook the wee man Nick gladly accepted our scooters although couldn't offer any guarantees he would remember in the morning. We left to join the others at our weekend retreat by the sea and with help from the lovely Christine we were soon in the club house reflecting on todays events and discussing the night ahead.

Part Three: We decided on a night in Ryde to sample the sites and sounds of IOW scooter rally. Not if it was Colin or Chris but we managed to get dropped off in town all in tact. We hit the bars. Notably the revellers in and around the King Lud were desperate to be photographed with Eddie. Shame the BnB man had taken the night off eh what a picture that would have been. He lapped the attention in true celebratory style. Feeling the effects of the whole day we made plans to return to our holiday gaf. Not before tasting the culinary delights of turkey man Eddie found this great place. Just to say, this is an island all on it's own without the need for fast food. Back home to finish the evening in the club house a night cap or two, or three or four or five. Where's Les, in bed preparing himself for the great snoring contest with the curryman. The morning came and we all trotted off to explore the beach. No scooter rally could compare to this in the sea at 8, in the jacuzzi at 9 and in the sauna at 9.30. Steve surprised what is essentially a family resort with his choice of swimwear. Quick cuppa of tea made by ME sorry I mean mick and it was off to the parts fair to collect our not so trusty steeds mine and Daves scooters. A few quid lighter we mounted our machine and it was off to Ryde.

Part Four: Big thanks to Nick from ITAL doing such a great job Dave and I were flying again. Luckily we had the Mick's map of the Island to get us about as the Campsite was a lot further from Ryde than we (I) was sold. Ryde was heeving as ever and we were all starving so fish and chips and of course lager was in order. Back to the site to watch Le Arse throw their toys out of the pram when a Man U fan was given the task in reffing the game. Money goes to money so of couse Steve wins both pots. Steve had bought tickets for tonight VFM do which was aggrolites (whatta Drumma) and the famous rudeboy himself Neville Staples and his sidekick Pauline Black. The night was great. Plenty of drinking as normal and skanking to 2 tone's finest. Mick got the cream when he met Pauline and Rob has the photos to prove it honest. Ole Dazza was upto his normal friendly self. A pre arranged appointment with Christine meant that we had to cut the evening short. On the taxi where's Les. He was with Steve chatting away to the band. Back to the clubhouse for a night cap or two, or three.

Part Five: With the thought of riding to the islands most notable landmark the Needles some of us were already safely tucked up in bed. We continued drinking until our icky bellies couldn't take anymore. The milkman arrived early and Mick with the metal constitution was up and about altering his joker grin into a shade of white. Morning stroll followed by the most a hearty yet expensive breakfast next to the sea. Our scooters we given a quick fix up with Mick given us all a lessons in Vespa maintenance. Given the time we rules out the Needles in favour of a ride to a dead end closely followed by a ride to a deserted rugby club. We ended up watching planes not reach 178 mph and supping the local ale - well Steve tried. Back to the site to get ready for what we hoped to be the highlight of the trip. The Nutty Boys had come to town well Carisbrook Castle and we had front row. Sometime ago we decided on Hawaiian shirts topped with a Fez. Can you have regrets yes. Leaving the caravan. it was soon clear, overcoats and wolley hats would have been more appropriate attire for this gig. A bit of a mix up with the transport meant that we had to call upon Christine who was herself in bed. Shite - Colin it eventually was with his over inflated fare system we all agreed that it would be worth it in the end. The taxi arrived not before yet another beer and more football. On the minibus. Where's Les. He's ordering food said Dave. Here he comes and off we went.

Part Six: The taxi took longer than expected as we should have taken the high street which was clear according to this helpful twat on the radio. It was the history lesson from Colin that got us most going. It appeared that the Isle of Wight was the aving it off place for those notorious hooligans the Saxons and the Romans. Dave summed it up nicely which gave Les another hernia. talking of which he almost had to walk the rest of the way when he took a leak en route and the traffic decided to move.

Part Seven: The queue was long as we were cold. Straight in through the gates to the Tee-shirt stand. Never bought one of these things before but it went someway to help keep the cold out. Where's Les, he was rendezvous-ing with his associates say no more. With beer in hand we waited patiently. Where's Les, Bingo here he comes with luminous wrist bands in hand this motley crew of scooter pikeys from PLVSC were transformed to VIP status. We walked through trying to act normal and not stand out as you do - but I guess the shirt and Fez gave the game away. Les came up trumps but not resting on his laurels, our very own Daniel Dyer began the introductions. Some say having the right school tie is the gateway to privilege and success. Not in the is case, self styled allegiance to the mighty west ham united catapulted Dave to backstage celebratory status. We watched in quizzically as Dave sloped off with Spanner the ammer. We carried on chatting amongst ourselves and meeting a bevvy of questionable characters.

Part Eight: Some of us tried to keep warm with alterations to our clothing. Mark appeared to pull off the biggest transformation from IT consultant on his Hols to Forrest Gump in one button. I did feel sorry for this Villa Fan the cold made him more blue nose than claret. We were entertained throughout by the Sawdust Weezers, Ruba Dubs Geno Whereshefrom and eventually who we had all been waiting for and taken the trouble to wear these stupid shirts, Kid Creole and his Coconuts. The music sounded authentic but without my glasses he could have been any old Kid Creole. The coconuts were amazing and made fill all warm inside which is what we needed. Dave retuned with biggest grin this side of Cheshire. Not only did he get to meet Jerry Dammers, he met Suggs, Chas and Dave and a host of cockney music hall entertainers. Brilliant it made his day and ours looking at his photos after. We were left being entertained by a David Copperfield Junior with his mysterious 7 of hearts popping up everywhere. However it was the Steve that bamboozolled him with his slight of hand he seemed to make yet another twenty notes come to life. Much to the disapointment of Master Copperfield, Lane and co weren't going to release this score to no one unless in trade of a Warm Coat or freezing cold lager of course.

Part Nine: After a long cold wait; where’s Les. After comparing his own famed ego he made room for the Dangermen to take that stage. Madness needed no introductions so Les was relegated to the VIP suit where most of us had left to go and associate with the riff-raff. Without warning the siren like sound of saxophone drummed out Chas’ voice to send the crowd including our merry band of inappropriately dressed wanderers into a fever. Well it raised the temperature at least. Not happy with the standard lets run on the spot in slow motion, for one of our crew, bump and grind became the new moonstomp and certainly had its appeal well for one elderly admirer. In spite of the Nish Nish Nosh of their new album, Madness certainly showed why their brand of ska has held it’s own for over 30 years. They were as expected brilliant and why a quick call to their biggest fans Neil and AJ was needed mid one step beyond – just to rub it in. The madness started when boro’s own dangermen regrouped. To meet the taxi we took the decision to walk down what I can only describe as moat around castle. Eddie shat his pants when he was ambushed by the knights of Carisbrook (grow-up!). Where’s Daz, no guessing. We waited for him to catch up then jump out on him. I wonder what the natives thought watching a load of 40 somethings shouting booo! It was on the taxi and god speed to the caravan for one last night of farting and snoring.

Part Ten: As we watched Mick clean, sweep, pack, and prepare the thought of riding back to Peterborough loomed over us. Mick kick started the troops with one of his famed cuppas and even shared his biscuits despite earlier complaints from our resident chef the Curryman. Come to think of it, when did he not complain? After packing up we started out on our journey home. Leading the way the Ace Face flanked by the sons of Westwood we reached the ferry in good time. So did everyone else it seems. It was busy although we were soon on board and sailing across the Solent ready for the long ride northwards. Having nearly rammed a boatful of toffs, Les and Steve spotted a boatful of ladies en route to the Isle of Lesbos. Once across, we resumed formation again, the Westwood boys were busying up and down the column ensuring we were sticking to the regulation speed of 55. The Welcome sign of McDonalds drew us to enjoy morning brunch, experiencing our first piece of greenery since embarking on this trip. Fed and watered we rejoined the constant stream of holiday makers heading north.

The Finale: The pace was fast and with the wind in our backs our scooters were out performing their recommend speeds. Over time we formed a breakaway group led by Fast Eddie and Metal Micky. Myself and the brothers C followed in hot pursuit. I watched the leading four pull out from a small truck and join the fast lane when the Deepings playboy zoomed past. As he crossed he narrowly missed a car which caused his Lambretta to uncharacteristically twitch and wobble causing it to catapult its rider. I looked in horror as I saw Darren and his scooter skid down the carriageway. My heart was in my mouth when I was running back to the scene. Thankfully the traffic stopped in time avoiding both scooter and rider being squished. Darren’s cheeky grin reappeared; his motorcycle clothing had basically stopped him from sustaining severe injuries (recommend getting some). Les and Steve appeared and Les rightly chastised us for not sticking as a group. We are as only as fast as our slowest scooter. Good point to remember. Thereon we all stuck closely to Darren who gingerly rode his Lammy homeward. Few more stops and eventually we reached the Elton brow to the welcome site of Peterborough. Blap! As fast as our little engines could take us to the end of our IOW 09 trip. Just to finish I hope I can speak for all those members that went to the IOW. We had a great time lots of larfs and as expected brilliant company. Big thanks to Steve for organising the Madness tickets and to Les for sorting the VIP passes and for the rest who knows the way to Belgium? ... The End