Massage or a Breakfast Butty? The agonies of choice.

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Post script to Highclere. At the end of the event I was presented with a very difficult choice. The organisers had arranged for some volunteer ladies skilled in the art of massage to minister to the limbs of the riders in various stages of distress. Cost for this relief (to go to Fireservice Benevolence charity) was a mere fiver. I was sorely tempted to take advantage of this service and even joined the queue.

However at that point the sweet smells of a fry-up wafted their way across the field. As if drawn by a magnet I quit my waiting and followed my nose to the van where the smell was coming from. There I learned that for £4.30 I could have a breakfast bap (bacon, fried egg and sausage) plus a cup of tea.

Due to fears of downpours I had only brought one fiver with me, not wishing to risk more getting dampened beyond use. What to do? I could, for the first time in my life and with a completely clear conscience (it was for charity after all), enjoy a massage. However my stomach was growling at me, "need food, need grease". Also at the back of my mind was a Mrs Miff with a rolling pin, not quite understanding how getting my legs fondled by beautiful young ladies was in the interests of firemens charity (unless of course it was the firemen themselves at the receiving end).

So in the end I opted for the breakfast in a bap. I must say it tasted very nice.

Next time though think I will risk taking a tenner with me.....