Welcome to the CUOC Training Tour Tour Report 2019.
For the editor, the day began in O*ford (aka North-East Swindon). This unhappy incident had the very slight advantage of proximity to an Oxfam, where Harry bumped into James, was treated to some unrequited recognition, and then left again. Aidan - who had had the even greater displeasure of having to stay not only in Bad Cambridge, but also in Bad Selwyn - also made it to Oxfam some time later, replete with a batteryless phone, a full 10 hours of sleep, and a PhD offer at the university of Wicsonsin, no, Wicnonsin, no Winscosnin. These three, plus Ryan (who presumably also had a morning), reconvened sometime later at Bad Girton to squeeze into a very shiny and very small rental car. The editor forecasts that it will be returned a rather less Gleaming Hire than it began.
Elsewhere, other people did other things, with one car eventually emerging from 'oop Nawwf' and another from 'the Badlands'.
Upon reaching the Gower, Aidan consulted his five- (now four-) year plan, and found to his disappointment that it demanded of him 25km of running. Though CUOC continues to advocate the liberalisation of Aidan's brutal command-and-control (training) regime, a rota of support runners was organised to provide company around the dark, windy laps. Then, coincident with a Papal declaration of creed and an ursine defecation amongst trees, it began to rain in Wales. One damp grocery-unloading trip later, Jeremy's curry was served along with a side of suffering and followed by suffering cake for pudding. Afterwards, everyone went to bed in reverse order of tiredness, and with as many training hours having occurred as its coca-cola namesake has calories*, training tour day zero came to a close.
*CUOC does not endorse this spurious claim.
Update from the late Capt. F. Bunn MCSP: "oh yeah no I didn't tell Jeremy I wasn't coming hehe"
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