2nd A Level Geography Field Day
Mutiny At Friday Street

We were all ready and waiting to go at 8.30 a.m. on our field trip day when Mr. Shovelton roared to a halt at 9.00 a.m. in our vehicle for the day. Having already sampled the exquisite nature of this Bedford Minibus we realised that its suspension was rather slack so that on corners we all had to lean to one side of the bus. After a near argument with a large contractor's excavator outside Grandi's house. we made good time until we reached a point near to Surbiton where we all disembarked to search under the bus for the cause of a mysterious rattling noise. We didn't find it, and soon were dropping down into the Mole Gap. It was here that the rain, that was to dog our footsteps that day, started to fall.

We spent the next half an hour going around in ever increasing circles of North Dorking with Mr. Bayross navigating, assisted nobly by Patrick Devlin, who at one point was called upon to explore a footbridge that our map-readers had marked out for us to drive across. Eventually, several back seat path-finders had us on to the correct road for Holmbury St. Mary. We ate frugally in the minibus parked by the village green and soon we were deep in geographical thought concerning the siting of the village. When the work in the village was completed, Mr. Shovelton drove on to Leith Hill to wait for our arrival. We were to follow an overland route to Leith Hill noting geomorphological details and land use on our way.

Within twenty minutes we had blundered into a private school and as we then bent our way towards Friday Street the rain, which had till then been a nuisance, increased its rate of descent on our clothes to such an extent that, by the time we reached Friday Street, the road was covered by deep puddles, the lake was full, and we were in a miserably wet condition.

Here, with the guidance of Mr. Bayross, we did a site and function exercise on the village of Friday Street, but as the rain continued to fall and we discovered a dry public house the company mutinied and, making ourselves comfortable in the garage by sitting on somebody's Mini, we refused to go on until we realised that only Mr. Bayross knew where we were. However, after several minutes' deep consideration we marched on up the road into the curtain of rain. After about two miles walking, getting wetter and wetter, we started the hazardous ascent of the highest peak in Southern England. About this time the rain eased off slightly thus becoming only a torrential downpour.

When at last the tower on the top of the hill appeared through the rain, who should we see bone dry and smiling but Mr. Shovelton. Here we paused a while to consider the view of several counties. In fact we saw sandstone erosion, a lot of low clouds (so low that we were in it), and some person (later found to be Eddie O'Gorman) about to fly from the top of the tower.

At last the walking was over and we rushed headlong down the hill to the dryness of the bus. On our way back to civilisation we were so happy to be on our way home that we let off steam in the way we thought relevant at the time; we sprinkled assorted pepsi-cola cans and other oddities into a disused rural cement mixer.

Soon we were home and the 'drying out' could begin.


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