* Morning rolls around and (having survived a Routemaster t-shirt collision) its time for breakfast at the Fairhaven, Woody cheekily scrounging us an extra sausage as the new batch of residents seem to be of a similar vintage to the previous group.
* We then walk to the rally site, pausing for a while at the railway station to see if the 454 special circular route might turn up. It seemed to be avoiding us so we continue our stroll, enabling me to add to my local pubs archive with pictures of the Waterloo and the Park Inn as we half expected Roger to put in an appearance.
* The college grounds are already attracting flocks of fellow enthusiasts with the prospect of static displays, trade stalls, a burger bar and the all-important bus rides. Woody and I start by surveying the vehicles showing on the car park - these include some First breadvans that used to work the old Weymouth local network, a couple of Leyland Nationals and a Badgerline coach.
* First ride of the day is on the 22A service to Portland Bill, a fair old run up past Wyke Regis and across the bridge at Chesil Beach. Mark seems to take great delight in demonstrating his D9 repertoire as we climb the steep hills of Fortuneswell, Mr Lunn would have been proud. The bus terminates in the shadow of the famous lighthouse and we quickly reconvene for the return journey, with our resident driver-in-training being filmed negotiating the downward slopes. We also get into a conversation with a native Portlander about some of the local characters, very enlightening I'm sure.
* Back at the college and Woody spots a mark 2 National has pulled in to commence 454 duty. The bus seemed to be linked to Cheltenham judging by the blind display, and we enjoy a merry trundle along the Esplanade, around the harbour front and back via the railway station.
* After those two appetisers, the day gets into full swing with a couple of real treats. Firstly there's an open top ride on Admiral Blake to Bowleaze Cove and back - Woody's hair was again defeated by the wind and we caught sight of Clive scooting into Waterside Holiday Park on his 503 Solo - cracking stuff! Then its the 100 to Nothe Fort on an old Exeter breadvan, having to literally prise ourselves on board as it gets cramped with barely a handful of passengers. The route provides another tour of the harbour then takes in Hope Square (views of Brewers Quay and the Red Lion) followed by the Nothe Tavern. We have to alight outside the fort itself or else we would all be charged the full entrance fee, but the view of the bus re-emerging through the narrow archway is a classic moment to treasure regardless.
* To the college once more and a repeat visit to Portland Bill. This time we decide to stop off for a pint at the Pulpit, making it just in time before the pub closed (at 4pm??) to slake our thirst out on the terrace. A nippy single-deck Bristol gets us back just in time for a final flurry of shots as the rally winds down for another year. It has been a really successful event that was deservedly blessed by some glorious sunshine.
* The rally might be over but the day isn't yet. The evening sees Woody and I sampling some more of Weymouth's many inns, beginning with the Wellington where we watch some of the Brazil v Ivory Coast football. Next is the Boot, apparently the oldest pub in Weymouth and said to be haunted - we didn't see any ghosts but enjoyed the cracking atmosphere of a proper local. Its then on to the Sailors Return for some 'Acoustic Marmalade', followed by the Black Dog although we weren't overly impressed by the latter. To finish things off it seemed appropriate to crawl into the Gutter (sorry, the Cutter!) where we savour our closing pint and Woody even made a new friend...
* Monday morning and with much sadness its time to head home. I can't resist a final stroll around the harbour and Nothe Fort, then our parting breakfast comes complete with extra bacon and toast, important sustenance for the journey ahead. To the station where we wait for our 10:20 South West train to Southampton, arriving promptly and soon Weymouth is disappearing out of sight. I console myself with bonus rail shots at Bournemouth, Southampton Central and Reading, but all too quickly the West Midlands looms into view and a fantastic weekend is over. My thanks go to Mr Wood for his excellent company (if not his dubious D9 antics), and to the organisers of the bus rally for putting on such a splendid show - I very much hope we will be back again next year...