My last Weird Weekend was also my first and I've wanted to come to another ever since but fate always seemed to be against me. 2010 I broke my leg, 2011 I couldn't afford a 10p mix let alone a trip to the other end of the country and in 2012 all our spare money went on getting married. 
As you can imagine, then, it was with rather a lot of anticipation that hubby and I set out at stupid o'clock from Heywood to miss the traffic. The first hundred miles were interesting. I'm someone who loves to look at new scenery even if it's shopping centres at the side of the motorway that I'll probably never go to. The last 188 miles took their toll. The sat-nav was in my lap the whole way but the route was so unbelievably straightforward there was no real need for it. Plus, at the part when we did need it, to find the B&B in Woolsery's narrow streets, the silly thing packed up anyway so we had to rely on signs. 
When I say the route was straightforward I really mean that. Every junction we came to the direction was 'straight on.' Every roundabout. Every seeming turn. Straight on. It made me think of Peter Kay when he tells the story in his gig at the O2 arena of how as a teetotaller he always ends up driving all his drunken pals and family home after nights out and the last one is always so paralytic that she doesn't remember where she lives. Peter: "where'd u live Sandra, love?" Sandra: (slurred) "Straight on"
Peter: "We're in Birmingham now Sandra, love."
Sandra: "STRAIGHT ON!!"
Eventually frustrated I texted my friend Kelly that I was on the most boring route in the UK.
We arrived in Woolfardisworthy around dinnertime, knackered. Unfortunately there was a bit of a wait to be able to go lie down because we arrived much earlier than the lady who owns the B&B expected so she had to dash up and prepare. Our room is beautiful. It's a double in lovely bright colours and the window seat looks out onto the gorgeous green countryside. Once ensconced we nodded off and didn't wake up till the evening. We quickly readied ourselves for the cocktail party ahead, I remembering heady days in 2009 of far too much champagne and drunken early hours conversations with a palaeontologist who thought I looked like a chick off the Terminator series: one of the best nights of my life. 
Today was somewhat different. We failed miserably to find somewhere to park for quite some time and then, hungry at last, grabbed some food at the chippy before heading to Myrtle Cottage. We had some good conversations and I was pleased to see old friends but the goodness knows how many hours of 'straight on' during our second-only motorway trip in our new little car, and the long sitting-down stints having played havoc with my dodgy leg meant we had to make our apologies inside an hour and go back to the B&B and bed.
Still, it's now day two and we've both had quite a good amount of kip so I for one am looking forward to what the day might bring.
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