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The Handlebar Moustache Club
The Handlebar Club 2012 AGM

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Last year’s Handlebar Club AGM was on April Fool’s Day, this year’s was on Friday 13th but nothing unlucky happened and a wonderful time was had by all. Even the glowering clouds parted for some of the time.

A delightful forty minutes on the Isle of Wight ferry in the sunshine
A delightful forty minutes on the Isle of Wight ferry

The trip from Portsmouth was a delightful forty minutes on the Isle of Wight ferry in the sunshine. This was just long enough to demolish a bottle of the excellent local Ale of White bitter, which I can pronounce as good from the bottle as it later turned out to be from various pub cellars. A delightfully lively lady seemed to think I was her new boyfriend, but I think it was just the moustache having its usual effect.

This was another mammoth-attendance year, with some 60 members, friends, wives, partners, sons and daughters all turning up. So many was it that people had been distributed between two hotels, one of which had an annexe over the road, accessible either by key or easily forgettable number combination.

Yelf's Hotel seen on a sunny day...
Yelf's Hotel seen on a sunny day...

We were at Yelf’s hotel and after booking into our room at the top of a flight of narrow stairs I made my way down to the bar for a curtain raiser before the AGM.

Dan the man
Dan the man

Unofficial event photographer Dan Sederowsky was there, accompanied by the delightful Anna-Lena, as was the Despicable Parsons and Keri (highly pregnant but still looking like a ballet dancer), and others. Dan and I were each several pounds lighter and several inches narrower than last year. Parsons thought I was so thin (and yellow - thanks Steve) that I had something terminal.

The AGM itself was teeming with people, including several of our handlebar friends from around the world, and several people wanted to say things. Now the Secretary, Treasurer, and Chairman are obliged to speak but some of these others had things to say that merely delayed the evening’s entertainment. Frankly, I wasn’t listening. There’s money in the bank and a vibrant membership, so everything’s OK.

The AGM was teeming with people  Photo ©Dan Sederowsky
The AGM was teeming with people  Photo ©Dan Sederowsky

There was one thing I should mention: David Dade, the club’s preeminent bearded friend, briefed us all on his brainchild, the forthcoming (first) British Beard and Moustache Championships, taking place in Brighton on Saturday 15 September. Tickets are flying out the doors and David recommended getting yours, and booking hotels early: britishbeardandmoustachechampionships.org
As soon as the AGM was done, it was time to catch up with our friends in the bar. So we did.

Friday night dinner was a vibrant affair Photo ©Dan Sederowsky
Friday night dinner was a vibrant affair  Photo ©Dan Sederowsky

Friday night dinner was in the hotel and was, as usual, a vibrant affair. The reason these AGM’s go smoothly (usually) is Steve Parsons’ efficient and low-key organisational skills. Following dinner, the bar provided a few dedicatees with drinks, before the unofficial bar was opened in a secret place, closing about dawn, from what I understand. Rodders has the details - if he can remember anything.

Following a sumptuous breakfast on Saturday morning, it was time to go and have a butchers at the town criers competition about five minutes up the road. The town criers - many of them - were staying in the same hotel as us.

The parade was rather a short one
The parade was rather a short one

The town criers - many of them - were staying in the same hotel as us. The parade was consequently rather a short one. Anyway, we watched the show in the grey and cold of the rather unmagnificent Anthony Minghella Square and some of the participants proved to be superb. They were followed by a sort of Goth ‘morris dancing’ group, dressed in black and red, who gave every impression that dressed only in their underpants they would still set off the metal detectors at the airport.

Some of the boys check their horses. Going: soft to firm
Some of the boys check their horses. Going: soft to firm

Some sort of horse race was going on on the Saturday – I think it was the Grand National – so people were keeping up with the form of the no-hopers they had randomly backed for charity in drunken stupors, possibly, at dinner the night before. No idea who won – but that wasn’t the point.

The wind was getting up and the pub on the corner looked a bit dodgy so a few of us trundled down the hill to The King Lud for some cosy luncheon. After lunch I visited the Donald McGill exhibition, which is worth a look next time, if you missed it. If you don’t recognise McGill’s name, you’ll know his work. Try Googling him.

Jonathan Van Halbert and friends at The King Lud
Jonathan Van Halbert and friends at The King Lud

Before dinner, I sauntered down to the bar where I found Geoff White performing his famous orange sexing trick. The female audience were enchanted and so was I.

Geoff White prepares to sex an orange
Geoff White prepares to sex an orange

Dinner was again delightful, with Parsons doing the raffle in his usual way. Various valuables were won and hundreds raised for charity. The chefs and hotel staff were then ordered out of the kitchen to receive a round of applause. Well deserved too.

The soup course
The soup course

Sunday breakfast was a quieter affair and I went for the kipper option. Most people filtered off home during the day but those of us who were hanging on spent time walking, shopping, drinking, exploring and dozing. Then a few of us, including Martin and Liz Bennett and Jonathan Van Halbert went out for an Italian meal. Jonathan’s fish looked especially superb. I upset the waiter. What’s new?

We whizzed round the island in the sun
We whizzed round the island in the sun

On Monday, we and David Dade and John Gonezi whizzed round the island in the sun. Going clockwise we took in Seaview, Bonchurch, Ventnor, the cliffs, Cowes, the harbours, fed ducks, ate Crab and chips (delicious), and finally made our way to the ferry and home, refreshed. As the boat was hooting her way out of the harbour a bird took off and circled above the town. I wish I could say it was a dove. I can’t, it was a seagull with something wrong with one of its feet. the end

You can find more jolly pictures of the whole weekend on Facebook, HERE and HERE

Tom Cutlerright quote