Bongos, No -Shows and Have-A-Go's

Well, it wasn't quite the mad dash I, and everyone else, had expected it to be. Nonetheless, it was still a busy night for a Thursday.

The ex-night warden was on last night with me, Archie was supposed to be on also, but he decided to go and get drunk instead of coming into work. Let's just say that when I phoned him, and Alex spoke to him, Alex wasn't best pleased.

The silence policy has been changed for this weekend, it's a case now of:

• Strike One: You will be asked to quieten down with immediate effect, silence policy will be explained.
  
• Strike Two: You will be instructed to leave the park first thing in the morning.

I spoke to one group in the reserved field and asked them to take the wood out of their chimenia, one of the males in the group (evidently more drunk than his friends) refused, but luckily his sober friend did as instructed.

I walked around the site and found a minibus of approximately ten Asian males. This was the group that I had been warned about before I started. Apparently, they were playing their bongos a little bit too loudly for their neighbours liking. There's nothing like a bit of culture on the site, is there? Anyhow, I digress. When I approached them, they were grabbing all the necessary items from their hired minibus for the evening, with the headlights on full beam pointed across the field. I asked them to switch the lights off and reminded them of the silence policy. They seemed pretty genuine and not the typical kind of bongo-toting loony you'd expect on a camping holiday.

As I was walking back, I noticed a vehicle with it's interior light on, as there had been no action near the car, I guessed it was a mistake. Luckily, the vehicle's owner's friends were still up (they also had wood on their fire, which they were told to remove) and they got the keys and switched the offending light off. They were very thankful, as it would have meant a flat battery in the morning if I hadn't told them.

Different field, another wooden fire. I could hear the wood cracking as it burnt from the top of the field, so I made my way down and told them to put the fire out. They apologised and did as instructed. When I returned half an hour later, they were in bed. Directly opposite this tent was a smaller one, with two loud occupants inside. I gave them one warning and that was all they were going to get. Again, they apologised and went to sleep.

I went back round to check on the group and their chimenia. Lo and behold, it was still burning the wood and they were still talking. Again, they were told to take the wood off the fire and quieten down otherwise the manager would be called. They didn't.

Just then, Billy (the ex-night warden) called Alex on the radio. Apparently, he'd left a door open which should have been locked. When Alex said he'd be down in five minutes, I called in on the radio that I may need his assistance for a group in one of the fields.

After about fifteen minutes, Alex turned up. He didn't look happy, he clarified this by saying, "You ruined my chicken." The first thing he had to do was lock the all important door, then he was free to deal with the chiminea gang.

As we approached the chiminea gang, Alex went ahead and spoke to them. The more inebriated one of the group wasn't happy that someone was telling them to put the fire out, shut up and go to bed. He remonstrated this by standing up and having a go at Alex. A punch was almost thrown, but he was held back by his friend. Alex's hand had a firm grip around his 'trusty steed'. When his friend asked for some help in restraining him, three people got up and walked briskly to the toilets. Eventually, the first restrainer was assisted by another male, they then bundled him into the tent and told him to shut up, in less polite terms.

I doubt they will be there tonight.

At around 0300hrs, I decided to pay another visit to the bongo-wielding troop in the furthest field. I had been there a few times before to tell them to quieten down. They were still talking. I gave them the ultimatum, "I want complete quietness now or you can pack up and leave." They took the hint and the lights went off and there wasn't a sound out of them. Apparently some of them were leaving early to go walking. I never seen anyone, or heard any movement from them after I spoke to them at three in the morning.

This morning, when I signed off, my report stretched to three pages. I'm hoping for a number of things tonight when I go in:

1. That Archie has sobered up enough to come in to work.
   
2. The groups/tents which were reported have been removed from the site (to free up space for friendly, tee-total, family people.)
3. That Billy doesn't bore me with his stories. . . "When I was the night warden. . ." or "When the last manager was here. . ."

I'll be lucky if I get two out of three, but you can but hope.