It had been unsurprisingly hectic in the days leading up to the leaving do. I had to make minor changes to just about all of my daily information sheets. Oh joy. 16 sheets for each day, 22 days in total.
On top of this, the format I had used to write the daily sheets wasn't compatible with emails, so each one had to be copies over to email before they were ready.
Hence, on the leaving day I found myself awake at 4, and dragging my sorry, exhausted carcass out of bed and down to Asda for paper to complete the route planning. By lunchtime it was done, with 5 hours to spare before I had to be at the leaving do.
And so, with everything vital now completed, we headed down to the football stadium. Jezebel and Milly joined Ralph and his very recently vinyled Kia. Soon followed by Marc and Sarah in the pink brothel, the Nightmares in LaDiVa with her new, school designed murals. Team Lotus, John and Eddie complete with tuxedoes. Team Trauma with huge band of followers (or are they groupies ?)
Team Newlywed, as promised in full wedding garb, ribbons and the new addition, a cocktail cabinet. They had had an issue with their fan as they set off, but arrived in time.
The Mowlam Mob were in 1930s black and white gangster gear and looking the part. Swannie with his black Lexus, The Swanners, Robin and Sam in Trigger,Team Chameleon in their stylishly graphiced Proton and finally, Doris the Morris bringing up the rear.
Alas, Neil was trying to start his singing but the crowd were in the car park, checking out the fleet, taking photos and saying their goodbyes.
I was in headless chicken mode, being interviewed by various members of the local paparazzi,meeting and greeting teams and selling them raffle tickets.
I stood for a moment, looking out of the window at the line of decorated vehicles, the teams dressed up expectantly waiting for the off and a lump came to my throat. 3 years of work all culminating in this evening. Chuffed just didn't come close. Awed more like.
Anyway, no time for such nonsense. I had to rush the band, rattle through the raffle prizes and announce the first destination. The party capital of Northern Europe. Amsterdam here we come.
As the Speedway Snails played their last song, the bar emptied, engines roared in to life and teams scrambled aboard.
I looked around the empty bar and realised I had done all I could. Time to go. I hadn't had a chance to even take a photo.
Jezebel started first time with Jo behind the wheel. That was a relief, she had really been playing up recently. I leapt on as she drove past and soon we were on the open road towards Dover.
Sleep didn't come easily, or at all for that matter. I was still buzzing from the last few hours. Needless to say, as soon as I took over driving in France fatigue hit me hard and we all slept soundly in a lay by near the Belgian border for an hour.
And so, with the aid of Eileen's sat nav, we had a quick tour of an industrial estate on the outskirts of Amsterdam before finally locating Gaasper Camping in the rain. Most of the teams were there before us. Tired, relieved. Still buzzing from that send off. 
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