{"id":172,"date":"2025-10-22T15:10:20","date_gmt":"2025-10-22T15:10:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ridesstridesandvibes.co.uk\/?page_id=172"},"modified":"2025-11-09T15:18:08","modified_gmt":"2025-11-09T15:18:08","slug":"%f0%9f%8e%b1-the-great-bingo-blunder-and-beyond","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/ridesstridesandvibes.co.uk\/?page_id=172","title":{"rendered":"\ud83c\udfb1 The Great Bingo Blunder and Beyond"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Escaping life, one laugh (and one hill) at a time<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometimes you just need to drive far enough that your responsibilities can\u2019t find you. So we packed up Wilko the van, loaded with snacks, half a plan, and the kind of optimism that usually ends in sore legs and a good story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\ud83c\udfa4 Friday Night: The Bingo Incident<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The weekend kicked off with Charity Bingo Night<\/strong> \u2014 a wholesome evening for a good cause, hosted by yours truly. I was the caller: the voice of fate, the bringer of balls, and (apparently) chaos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everything was going beautifully until my mouth staged a full rebellion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead of the classic \u201cOne fat lady, number eight,\u201d out came:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\u201cOne fat bastard!\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

The hall erupted. Chairs shook. People howled. Mascara ran.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I bent double over the mic, wheezing like an asthmatic accordion. Somewhere between tears and hysteria, I managed to finish the night, raising a triumphant \u00a3920 for Sense<\/strong> \u2014 and possibly securing a lifelong ban from respectable bingo halls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We loaded the prizes, the cash tin, and what was left of my dignity into Wilko. The open road called. So did the lay-by where we\u2019d be parking up for the night, ready for Parkrun in the morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because nothing says \u201celite athlete\u201d like sleeping in a van full of raffle prizes and residual shame.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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\ud83c\udfc3\u200d\u2642\ufe0f Saturday: Parkrun & Pasty Recovery<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Dawn cracked over the lay-by, bringing with it that unique mix of condensation, enthusiasm, and regret. Paula sprang out of bed like a gazelle. I unfolded myself like an ancient deckchair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Parkrun went\u2026 fine-ish. Paula cruised through the course powered by smugness and endorphins. I shuffled behind, thighs still traumatised from Wednesday\u2019s circuits. I crossed the finish line in a \u201crespectable time\u201d \u2014 meaning I didn\u2019t need CPR and no one lapped me twice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hot chocolate at the caf\u00e9 was glorious. Several locals came over to congratulate us \u2014 though mostly to relive \u201cOne Fat Bastard.\u201d Fame at last. Not quite the kind I\u2019d imagined.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\ud83c\udfd6\ufe0f Sea Glass & Attenborough Vibes<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

We drove to Port Isaac for sea glass hunting \u2014 the kind of wholesome activity that balances out bingo-based humiliation. The tide was perfect. The sun sparkled. We transformed into self-proclaimed David Attenboroughs of the beach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We found colourful fragments \u2014 future jewellery, or mantelpiece dust magnets. Either way, it felt like treasure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\ud83c\udff0 Saturday Evening: Tintagel Tales<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

By evening, we rolled into Tintagel \u2014 home of King Arthur, ancient legends, and the best value car park in Cornwall: \u00a36 for the night<\/strong>. Bargain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blinds down. Seats spun. Weekend mode: activated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We wandered through shops full of \u201chandcrafted by elves\u201d trinkets. I resisted temptation until Paula spotted a hairy, multicoloured football with googly eyes. Naturally, we bought it for Elodie \u2014 our young bingo assistant and future heir to the Fat Bastard throne.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dinner at The Cornishman pub: bangers and mash under strict gravy rations. Bellies full, spirits high, and grand plans for a \u201cnice easy 5-mile run\u201d the next morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In Cornwall, easy<\/em> means vertical<\/em>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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\ud83d\udc3e Sunday: The Run, The Views & The Seals<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Golden light spilled over the cliffs. Shoes laced. Flasks filled. We set off from Wilko through Tintagel Main Street, legs already protesting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The route \u2014 roughly 4 miles of road, hill, and coast \u2014 began with a climb into the old graveyard. We said good morning to those \u201claying in,\u201d then broke out onto the coastal path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world unfolded in colour \u2014 rugged cliffs, swirling sea, and air that clears your soul and sinuses. We ran (never jogged) along cliff tops, through stone breaks, over bridges, and into kissing gates \u2014 Paula\u2019s favourite part: she gets a kiss, I get a breather.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We stopped often \u2014 partly for photos, partly for lungs \u2014 and scanned the waves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And there they were: two seals<\/strong>, bobbing in the shallows, watching us like curious sentinels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world went quiet. Magic, pure and simple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually, we carried on. Legs burning. Knees muttering. But with the sea roaring beside us and Wilko waiting at the end, I couldn\u2019t help but smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We crested the final hill. Wilko came into view. We picked up the pace for a triumphant finish. Because we never jog.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We run.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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time for a rest and a cuppa<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
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\ud83e\udd54 Epilogue: Back to Life (Reluctantly)<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

One catastrophic bingo call. One coastal \u201cstroll\u201d that nearly killed me. Two new seal friends. And the eternal debate over whether mashed potatoes should come with an ocean of gravy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just another escapade in Wilko \u2014 part comedy, part chaos, and all heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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