So, two weeks in the Lake District
at a peaceful five-flag camp site in the shadow of the mighty Blencathra.
It offered everything the modern camper requires: a quiet
shop, a toilet block, somewhere to empty your chemical lav, and internet that
cost almost (but not quite) an arm and a leg.
Yes. The toilet block. It being a posh site (We had to join
a club to gain access to the place, confirming my emerging old git status),
somebody thought it would be a nice idea to pipe music into the toilets, the
showers and the washing-up area.
It soon became clear that they only had one CD - a
collection of middle of the road classics with a few Radio 2 favourites thrown
in - played over and over again. There's only so many times you can listen to Walking in Memphis while taking a dump without going absolutely
mental.
Several days into our ordeal by soft rock, I discovered that
the CD player was in a small room marked "private" next to the gents'
showers. I hatched a plan. All it needed was an Allen key, about half an hour's
peace-and-quiet to remove a door and a suitable replacement disc.
Or, I could just wait for the day the cleaners accidentally left the room unlocked.
Or, I could just wait for the day the cleaners accidentally left the room unlocked.
Tough on MOR music, tough on the causes of MOR music |
And, thus armed with a copy of The Smurfs Go Pop, a lucky find at the Keswick
Branch of Oxfam (who incurred a sharp intake of breath and not unwarranted
Twitter criticism for filing Boney M under 'M'), that the plan sprung into action.
What a beautiful noise.
The next day, the middle of the road classics had returned,
and the service room was tightly locked.
Pity you couldn't get their very fine follow-up CD, "The Smurfs Go Plop!"
ReplyDeleteWhat a brilliant plan and the track sounds even better than I could have imagined.
ReplyDelete