Just your average Saturday Night...

Friday wasn't so bad, the usual revellers drunkenly making their way back from the town onto the park. Saturday's are generally busier as a rule. The pubs are open later, most people are departing the site on the Sunday anyway, so they don't really care that they're making too much noise under their own canvas. On a still night, you can hear people laughing in the next field, which does warrant a complaint. Anyone who complains, gets a refund.

I walked round the park with Archie, the other night warden who covers my nights off and also the weekends which tend to be busier, making a note of who is where and how much noise they're making. You'll get the occasional tent which you can hear saying "Shh!" pretty much as soon as they see the fluorescent jacket making it's way around the field. Always makes me smile, because no matter what field you're in, there is always a way to sneak up on a certain area without the occupants noticing you and giving it the "Shh!" routine.

At eleven o'clock, it's time to shut off the showers and laundry facilities in the two main parks and lock the main entrance gate. Once that has been done, it's time to wander the fields establishing the silence policy, which is rigorously enforced throughout the park. When all is calm, you can hear any approaching vehicles which may try to get into the park.

At 11.30pm, someone did just that. Now, there's a sign on the main gate asking patrons to park up and walk quietly to their accommodation. But sometimes people, in a fit of madness or sheer stupidity, momentarily forget how to read. This was the case on Saturday, when a Transit minibus driver decided to open the locked gates and drive through. Luckily, I spotted him before he managed to trundle his way loudly through the peaceful park. I stopped him and asked him to back up and park outside the reception. He maintained that he was "only going up there" and asked if he could carry on. I informed the driver that the gates were closed for a reason and there are signs up which clearly state that if the gates are locked, it's time to park up and walk to your tent/caravan/motor-home. After a short debate, he reluctantly decided to reverse the six foot (with my guidance, which he asked for then subsequently took no notice of.) and park in the bay at reception. Later on, after they had all trooped up to their accommodation, Archie went up to ask them to quieten down, he was told to "fuck off."

As the night drew towards 3am and most of the revellers were all partied out and fast asleep under their canvasses, Archie was having problems with some people who decided it wasn't the best time to quieten down and go to sleep. They showed this by having a loud discussion in their tent, which could be heard from the car park. As I was based at the front part of the park, awaiting any stragglers which may appear out of the darkness, I was radioed to attend at the loud discussion. One of the two had came out of the tent and was arguing with Archie. Although it was interesting to watch, there was a serious point here. This man could potentially become violent in a matter of seconds. I've done the training, and I know the key signs which were blatantly obvious to me. I told Archie to give the guy ten minutes to calm down and then we'd both go back and check on them.

Ten minutes, and one cup of coffee consumed, had passed. It was now time to head back up to the park to ensure that they had quietened down. Lo and behold. . . they hadn't. Archie went to ask them to quieten down, which they took no notice of. So it was time to call Alex out of his bed to deal with them.

Sadly, I can't say what happened as that would be giving away trade secrets on how to deal with drunken punters who refuse to shut up. After the punters were given six chances to quieten down and go to sleep, they eventually did. It was either that or be arrested for breach of the peace.

After that, the night was very quiet. I even spoke to a lovely couple who were spending two weeks in our company with their caravan and golden retriever.

The first post.

OK, it's the excitement of a new blog which has been thrust upon the unwitting public. I'll explain things later and get on with writing the first proper post now. Enjoy it, don't take things too seriously as it could be you that I'm writing about.