They were a happy crew – they really couldn’t wait. A sea of expectant faces grinning from cheek to cheek, avidly discussing what they were going to be getting up to over the next three days - the people they were going to meet, the places they were going to visit and the things they were going to do. Yes – the parents could hardly wait to see their children disappear to the Isle of Wight , so they could put their carefully formulated plans for a ‘quiet weekend’ into action.

            With the Chairman armed with both road map and directions the omens were less than encouraging, but despite an enforced detour through Newbury town centre good time was made and Clayfields Sports Centre reached without undue mishap. Dave Hickey – ex-player, web site maestro and volunteer linesman joined the party after a 5.00am departure from Hackney and a trip via London bus (with a driver who didn’t know the route and an irate Turkish commuter who was already late for work), tube, train, ferry and foot.  The sight of Dave half asleep on a park bench was less than encouraging, though a close to perfect surface on which to play threw cold water on earlier suggestions that the game might have been in doubt, and everyone settled down for the extravaganza that was to come.

            Unfortunately, L.Harvey’s insistence at showing the players their tour diaries prior to kick off backfired as the team – still shell-shocked from the realisation that they would have to do some writing while they were away – found early leg movement impossible as Southampton , despite the sterling efforts of JC’s goalkeeping bag, went ahead inside the first minute.

            Despite the hosts’ dominance, the efforts of Wilson and Hayes to quell the threat of Dwayne Pesah, the Southampton centre forward who is already creating havoc around the districts, limited goal attempts to a minimum and half time was reached without further damage being inflicted. The second period however kicked off with a well-taken penalty to put the Hampshire side two up before the comeback began. Wilson, McCormick and Hanley combined to put Twyman in on goal for a fine finish and shortly after Montgomery had gone close, McCormick, Coldray and Hanley created the opportunity for Twyman to bring us level. There was a moment of panic in the final minute however as Southampton struck both post and bar in one almightly goalmouth scramble, but we survived to record the draw we deserved after a great second half fightback.

            Hot dogs (Hayes 4) were consumed afterwards and the ferry port reached where, in an amazing coincidence, the car parked next to the mini bus contained an ex-Kingsholm pupil whom Mr Harvey had taken on a school trip to the very same Rocklands Hotel thirty years previously – and she still spoke to him. A calm ferry crossing was followed by a visit to Alum Bay where we descended the 187 steps to find the tide nearly fully in. Several people – Twyman and Dowdeswell to name but two, soon found to their cost that Canute’s Theory of Ebb & Flow, which suggests that man really is more powerful than the Autumn tides, was not as accurate as they first thought and returned to the mini bus not quite walking on water, but from the sound coming from their trainers, p rob ably walking in it.

            With feet having been dried, bags unpacked, sausage beans and chips largely consumed and Dowdeswell eventually stopping moaning about the tomato soup, the party left for a walk along Shanklin front which will be remembered largely for Montgomery’s mental maths skills and the Hardwicke-initiated Rick Waller impressions. Eventually, diaries and phone calls were (mostly) completed and preparations made for bed – or in Artus’s case, a half marathon round Rocklands’ top floor.

            It always happens on this trip – the clocks go back, adults settle down for an extra hour in bed but 10/11 year old tourists still only sleep for a maximum of seven hours (if only). An 8.30 breakfast call meant Artus had already been up for about three and a half hours – or so it seemed – and after being replenished with cereal, scrambled egg, bacon and toast we headed to Blackgang Chine, only to find that the high winds had resulted in the outdoor area being closed. The shop though was still open and with presents and confectionery safely stored in the bus – or in Burrows’ case, safely left on the counter - the chairman boldly declared that Amazon World, our next port of call, would be reached by heading for  Yarmouth in the north west corner of the island.

            Now those of us who have first hand experience of  Pathfinder’s navigational skills realised immediately that the chances of this being correct were about as great as Dowdeswell staying dry on a beach visit, and a check with the shop assistant revealed our destination was actually in the south east region of the island - at least 20 miles distant from the nominated position. Amazon World recreated the sights and sounds of the South American rainforest, though the scariest animals on display were without doubt those whose heads popped up in a Perspex viewing box in the middle of a family of anteaters.

            Crazy golf and ten pin bowling were the main attractions on Sandown Pier – Artus scoring an impessive 101 on the bowling, Hayes starting well but fading badly, Kitt starting badly and improving fast, Dean displaying an almost magnetic attraction for the side channel and Campbell a profound dislike for the tour organiser, writing in his diary, “Mr Owen scored a GPSFA record in the bowling – but it wasn’t a very good record.” Let the statisticians note that the author of that libellous piece completed his 10 hands scoring a paltry 55 (another GPSFA record).

            Swimming, ice creams on Shanklin front and a play on the beach followed, before the sudden appearance of a huge black cloud brought about a hasty exit. The pre-dinner football quiz camouflaged the obligatory room inspection, which revealed that the floor of the Hanley-Dean-Twyman pit was equally well hidden. “I’m not sharing with those two again,” proclaimed Twyman – which suggests that he is either a very neat and tidy person, or was to blame for half the mess. Later trips will no doubt reveal which.

            6.45am Monday morning was not universally welcomed by the GPSFA A Squad, but cereal, boiled eggs (Dowdeswell 2 Hanley 0) and toast later, spirits were high and minds alert as the driver was informed that the ferry port – after last year’s miscalculation – was actually down the right hand exit from Newport roundabout and not the left. With the Chairman by now having complete faith in his globe, Leesland was reached without further ado and another fine performance against Gosport & Fareham followed. Twyman (2), Beast (2) and Hanley grabbed the goals with McCormick heavily involved in three and Artus and Kitt in the others – but it was the sheer workrate of the whole side which laid the foundation for this victory against a team which contained some extremely good attacking players.

            With Artus and Coldray departing for extended holidays in the south and McCormick and Kitt going head to head with fractions, decimals and percentages for 60 miles in the car, the remaining ranks blasted out “We’ve got Scott Montgomery et al…..we’ve got the best team in the land” for the rest of the way home.

            For the record, Liam McCormick’s diary was voted number one, Josh Wilson and Ben Coldray (both 100%) were the best eaters (just beating Tom Burrows who was equally good an eater but spilt his drink on Sunday evening), Alex Kitt displayed the best attitude (so nice, he wouldn’t accuse anyone of doing anything wrong and fined himself a point instead), Jack Hayes won the match award – (a great feat considering there were 13 players who were all tremendous), Tom, Alex & Ben’s room was without doubt the best – while Josh Hanley’s Ryan Dean’s & Jack Twyman’s wasn’t, Beast was the best ‘burrerer’ (just ask him) - and Ben & Tom were ‘top tourists’ – gaining the highest ‘Dream’ mark totals. The Chairman’s navigating at times was still ‘Stait of the art’ quality and on completion of our 38^th GPSFA Tour we realised – not for the first time – that we still enjoyed it just as much as we’ve ever done. Roll on London .

Happy days.

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