Sunday's agenda included a trip to Harrisons Rocks. A place we had never been to before to try a new sport called "Rock Climbing". We were to be met by members of out sister club the HMC but they lived up to their reputation and never arrived. None of our team was experienced and to make matters worse the weather was fine and sunny, forcing us to stay outdoors! However, we were slightly relieved because there weren't any refreshment facilities so we would have had to stay in the toilet had the weather turned bad. Although not to our taste apparently conditions were just right for climbing. Despite this we found ourselves to be weak and feeble. Climbing was just not our cup of tea!

Rupert Priestnall

 proved to be moderate. After an hour we had it bagged and was thirsty for more action so headed to the central drinking area of Calais.  Once I had secured lodgings for the night we had a warm up on the French classic Kronenbourg, in the hotel bar before our attempt on town.

After a meal we worked our way up the grades managing expensive 8 after three rounds of Biere Blonde. Felling good we went for the other classic, nightclub, but ran out of money and got escorted out. We'd had a good run though so retired happy.

Next morning found the team stricken with 'altitude sickness', James having the worst of it. We finished off the trip by bagging one last café before heading back to the tunnel sos la manche.

Alfie Conn writes to us from Antarctica. Having spent six months on a ship getting there he was a bit miffed to find out it was a spoof meet on the back of his edition of Crux.  He is now working for the British Antarctic Survey in an attempt to raise the fare to get back by 2001. We wish him luck.

Dear All (or anyone who cares anyway)

Well all I can say is that it's better than working for a living. At present we have spent 10 days drilling 10-20 metre deep holes, filling them with explosive and driving a total of 24km on Skidoos. This meagre total does not include digging us out of snowdrifts, digging latrines, digging out fuel dumps, digging out food (very important) or even digging out the tent. As you may gather on my return to the UK in May 2001, I will be well qualified to be a "digger"?

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