R*n 169: Scorton

It's like some sort of surreal dream when you turn up outside a cafe, stand in a circle surrounded by people wearing Santa hats and then some guy starts playing spin the bottle.

Was this the effect of too much alchohol, too much wacky baccy or is there a remote chance this could be really happening.

It seems the guy spinning the bottle is looking for someone to write something about a r*n. He then tells people that if they don't have a Santa hat, they can fashion one from leaves and twigs. No, it has to be a dream.

However, the pain in my legs when I start to run feels real enough to be sure. Over the fields and down the lanes until we end up at some sort of flood defence near Garstang.

No beer stop here then. We carry on running and miraculously end up back where we started. Most of the people who didn't have Santa hats have indeed fashioned wierd and wonderful millinery consisting of ivy leaves and the like. One girl even has twigs on her head that look like antlers.

It must be the wacky baccy. I must be asleep in my own bed? The excitement of Christmas has got to me - I'm seeing reindeer in my sleep. It must be a dream.

I mean, no one would be out running at 11am on a cold Boxing Day wearing Santa hats or ivy leaves or even antlers....... would they?

Visitors:

Mike & Pip
Big Yap, Julia, Amy, Bonnie, Cindy & Oscar from Malaysia
Paddy O'Meter from Newtown Hash, Edinburgh
Jim the plumber