Breakfast: With the weather putting paid to my chances of a morning walk, I can at least have a longer lie-in before joining Rog and Mr Wood for breakfast. A brief look outside reveals the full extent of the rain and we can't help but notice the National Express coach parked up right outside the hotel, the Woody tracking device is obviously working very well indeed.
To the rally: Full Englishes devoured we brave the elements and await the shuttle service down to the rally site. It really is a miserable morning, the rain lashing down hard and bouncing back up off the pavements. Lingering by the Kings Statue, a green Leyland National soon provides our connection down to the Lodmoor car park by the Premier Inn.
Riding in the rain: It's far too wet to be taking any photos yet so we decide to make the most of the rides on offer, an excellent way to keep as dry as possible. First off is a trip to Portland Bill and back courtesy of a Volvo B6 recently retired out of service at Stagecoach - the bus made mincemeat of the climbs up Portland Hill, no need for any crunchbox there. No sooner have we got back to base than we jump straight on the next service, partaking of a circular tour of Littlemoor on an old Exeter Ford Transit breadvan. It's a bit of a squeeze inside but I enjoy sampling a route we missed out last year, spotting the New Inn as a Littlemoor landmark. A vintage Bristol is then on hand for a touch of elegance during a return trip to Bowleaze Cove.
Rally really: You have to hand it to the festival organisers for still delivering a good event despite the inclement conditions. We take a break from the rides and seek shelter in the Lodmoor pub where the waiter seems quite upset that we don't want a carvery. A brief lull in the rain sees Woody giving his camera an airing although mine stays firmly in my pocket and Rog just concentrates on avoiding the puddles.
- Woody after his expensive round -Portland Posers: On with the rides and a repeat visit to Portland, this time courtesy of an orange coach where we are all told to wear our seatbelts (health and safety, bah!). We alight at Portland Bill into the teeth of a howling gale and make a comical dash to the Pulpit for a medicinal pint. It's Mr Wood's round and he gets a shock when he's asked to pay £10.20 for two pints of London Pride and a pint of Guinness! Needless to say he was most disgruntled at this turn of events and 'Dave' felt the full force of his tonguelashing as we D9 our way back on a Leyland National.
Final run: The remorseless raindrops show no sign of relenting so it's time for our last ride of the day. Our favourite Ford Transit breadvan is again on hand, this time to take us to the Nothe Fort where this year we actually get to enter inside the impressive coastal defences. The driver takes pity on my weak-bladdered fellow passengers and then we trundle back to Weymouth seafront and that's that. I have to say that despite everything I still really enjoyed the rally and riding around on the old buses remains a treat regardless of the weather.
Formula One: After drying out back at the Fairhaven we head out into Weymouth once more and aim to find somewhere to watch the Canadian Grand Prix. Our choice is the Wellington Arms, family-run with a heartwarming atmosphere to match. We camp ourselves under the television as the race begins but it seems that the Weymouth weather has made it's way to Montreal, a lengthy rain delay leaving us in limbo for a while. Woody and I answer the call of our stomachs with a visit to Chillis (another excellent lamb tikka masala) and when we get back to the Wellington we find that the race has only just restarted - note to Rog: the two-hour limit does only apply to time actually spent racing. The action is worth waiting for though as Jenson Button storms through the field to take victory on the last lap, leaving a certain Mr Chance weeping tears of unbridled joy.
- Eyes fixed for some F1 action -Duke of Cornwall: Mr Wood is all F1'd out and retires to the Fairhaven whilst Rog and I set out to celebrate JB's win. We call in at the Duke of Cornwall, a small pub amongst the harbour backstreets where there is live 'entertainment' although one of the karaoke singers seems a bit sozzled. Some Blackwater Mild is sampled and two large dogs rush around excitedly being fussed over by the regulars.
The Globe: following last night's discovery there is only one place to finish off the evening, hence it's a return to the Globe and some more Dartmoor Jail Ale. Rog has at least stopped crying now but is still struggling to bring up the strains of the national anthem in Jenson's honour. Our favourite landlord wished us well as we left and I do hope we get to pop in again next year.
- Weymouth Lifeboat -Monday morning: the remaining embers of our Weymouth weekend and I just squeeze in a farewell wander around Chapelhay, Nothe Gardens and Hope Square, topping up on some prized photos as the sun gradually burns off the morning drizzle. Mr Wood is having an interesting morning as he seems to have been placed on breakfast rations and is still being stalked by National Express coaches. Munching over we make our way to the station and the steady ride back to the West Midlands passes without any fracases.
Well what else can I say? A fantastic weekend once more, great company, lots of fun and I think it's safe to say that Weymouth will be retaining it's status as one of the exploration pinnacles of the year.
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