2015 Reunion

The forecast was not great: just like last year. And just like last year the sun shone yet again on that blessed spot that is Aber - or at least until the Sunday, when it no longer mattered very much anyway. The glorious sight that is Aberystwyth basking in the evening sunlight greeted us as we crested Penglais on the Thursday evening. As the sun set gloriously in the bay it felt nice to be back in Ceredigion-ar-Caribbean ! Even the Marine had spruced itself up after last year's storms with a brand new reception area and we were welcomed back to the "Kettle Reunion", as it is known locally.

Friday passed pleasantly for those of us who arrived early, in particular for John Rowlands and myself who beat Derrick Spragg and Dave Charles in a fourball in Aber Golf Club (has Derrick coughed up yet John?). Since I was doing the scoring, it was generally assumed we would win whatever happened. Wives wandered Aber and ate tapas for lunch; John and I shared his M & S sandwich (tuna and cucumber if you must know) - probably more than Derrick and Dave had. We couldn't find Dave after the game and, assuming Rose had picked him up, we went back to the Marine. Actually he was in the shower. Sorry about that Dave. No Wyn Hughes to meet us this year unfortunately, since he had fallen and had to have stitches in his head.

That night was dinner and entertainment in Aber Town F.C. There was a frisson of fear amongst the wives: they thought they were going to have to watch Aber Town draw 1-1 with Llanelli yet again. The truth was worse than that: they were going to have to listen to Jim Kettle sing.

Before dinner we met in the Marine bar and, courtesy of Ken and Ann, toasted the Passmores' 40th Wedding Anniversary. I think Nerys must have been confused about it: the 40th wedding anniversary is, as all the husbands know well, ruby whereas the Passmores were put into what must surely be called "The Silver Room" in the Marine. Everything was silver - soft furnishings, fittings, even the once plain wooden furniture was painted silver. I think Louis XIV and Marie Antoinette would have been quite jealous.

Dinner in Aber Town clubhouse was a carvery and much better than some had anticipated after seeing a chalkboard menu that said "Faggots". Howard said he was fond of a faggot, but there were no faggots there, or at least not that I could see. However, what was there was very tasty indeed. Even bottles of wine magically appeared on the table! Tiggy and Marilyn certainly laid on a good spread and - later - singing too.

The Karaoke. Some dreaded it, fearful of making eejits of themselves in public. However Jim most gallantly went first, ensuring that no-one could possibly be embarrassed about their singing after his performance. There was no doubting the highlight of an evening in which pretty much most people participated, sometimes so much so that there were more people on stage than in the audience! Derrick's Chuck Berry duckwalk was indeed impressive but the massed Footballers' Wives Choir (not WAGS choir as Pete Strydom suggested, unless there is something I don't know about) were the hit of the night. Their version of "Dancing Queen" wowed everyone and then they followed it with an excellent "Waterloo" - presumably cleverly picked to mark the 200th Anniversary of the battle itself (well there were a few history graduates there). Other than that the Welsh reputation for singing was, in the main, put to the sword in a great fun night.

The next morning was the walk. This year it was Clarach - a gentle stroll for such professional walkers, kitted out in their boots and woolly socks and walking gear, carrying rucksacks containing several days rations and emergency medical supplies. In the event they, surprisingly, did not get lost (Ken and his map were not there this time - and Derrick was not allowed near one) and arrived in 40 minutes. I was not walking since I had a football injury (occasioned attending the Wolves v Leeds match); Derrick had told me it would take an hour and a half, so when the call came to pick up Jeanette it was quite a hectic drive to Clarach, particularly since it is nearly impossible to find a road onto the beach area. Golf clubs aboard, there was, honestly, no room to bring back the many walkers beseeching me for a lift.

The afternoon was golf in Capel Bangor for the Aber Masters and the famous Green Jacket for 8 of us, including Dai Whitney and Martin Rogers. And shopping, yet more tapas and cocktails for the Footballers Wives - and not a few men too. Capel Bangor was not quite as groomed as Augusta perhaps, but it is lovely spot, fast to play and a bit of fun. What's more the Jordan Speith of Aber, winning by 4 clear points (just like Jordan), was me. Reversing last year's positions, Roly was runner-up whilst Jeanette won the ladies tournament for the third year running (!). Unfortunately some of the star players such as Howard, Pete -and even Ken - could not play this year, people who would surely have given me a bit of competition!

The formal Saturday night was in the Marine where 30 people sat down to dinner and Howard acted as MC. He offered all of our best wishes to Rob Culley, who could not be there because of illness. He thanked those who had travelled quite some distance to be there and relayed Bruce Roughton's regrets as per his phone call that morning. Then Pete, as usual, won first prize in the Grand National - and had the cheek to get 2nd as well. Shirley won third whilst Jeanette, making up for the lack of a ladies Green Jacket for the golf, got her (mine actually) £1 back for coming last. John Rowlands put the Green Jacket on me, Shan Pickard did a knees-up to show how good her new, 6 week old knee was and we headed into the bar.

Dave Charles and Stan Moore had set up a screen and computer and, with Mike Purslove occasionally getting it right with the mouse, we had the words and sang along to lots of old Aber favourites. For me "Sloop John B" and "Stewball", drenched in memories as they are, sounded about perfect and a rousing version of Hymns and Arias not too bad either. It was great - and I suspect very tiring - playing from Stan and Dave, which finished with a mighty rendition of "The Boxer". Dick Packham tells the story that he was at the first ever singing of that by Simon and Garfunkel in Manchester Trade Hall, before Paul Simon had actually written the chorus. He sang "Na Na Nai" instead of words and that became the chorus. That's a story we can all tell now!

The next day was the stroll to kick the bar at 10.30 am. Actually it was more of a route march, leaving at precisely at 10.30 with some of us still checking out and packing up cars and having to jog to catch up the group who were already at the bar dispersing to go home. Perhaps it was the much chillier day, or the call of grand-children, but this year there was just 5 of us for a final coffee in PD's Diner on the Prom. Then it was farewell to Aberystwyth for another year. Jim had offered the consoling thought that another 23 reunions would take him to 90. But there again he is older than most of us....

Thanks to the organisers - to Ken and Ann, Derrick and Mildred, Jim and Beryl, Tiggy, John and Shirley. It is always such a good weekend - and Aber puts on a show for us every year, or has done since I have been going anyway. Long may it continue!

The list of the attendees this year, in a version of Lanigan's Ball where one stepped in and one stepped out again as the weekend progressed:

Jim and Beryl Kettle

Derrick and Mildred Spragg

Ken and Ann Passmore

John and Shirley Ansell

Howard and Siân Phillips

Mike and Shan Pickard

Pete and Kathy Strydom

Gaynor Hamer

Huw and Ellen Evans

Dave and Rose Charles

Spike and Lynda Jones

Des and Jeanette Drumm

Mike and Lindy Purslove

Carol Parry

Glyn (Louie) Lewis

Tiggy and Marilyn Bates

John Rowlands

Dick Packham

Mick Newman

Stan Moore

Dai Whitney (golf)

Martin Rogers (golf)

This account was wriiten by :-

Des Drumm

14th April 2015

The above photos were supplied by Kathy Strydom and Des Drumm.