January 2006 Training Camp, Glenridding, Lake District

By Owain Bristow

Prologue:

And so it came to pass in the dark days of winter, circa January 7th, that a group of thirty or so individuals sprung forth, eager to tear up the Lake District in a frenzy of running, swimming and climbing in order to banish the memories of any Yuletide slothⁱ. What follows is a chronological account of the trials and tribulations that befell our noble, and indeed Harey, adventurers on their quest to seek fine nourishment, merriment and embrace the kind of endorphin-edged pain that comes only from conquering a solid mile of a hillmère on a daily basis. And of course what team training stint would be complete without the classic attempt on the Holy Grail of Hare & Hounds camps, the 100-point challenge. Was it achieved? What was the toll? All is revealed herein...

Saturday:

The team set off to the Lake District using a diverse spread of transportation ranging from a BMW to a minibus to a Nissan Micra with an unspecified vehicle malfunction, their destination: The Almond Lodge of Glenriddingⁱⁱ. Located in the heart of the Lake District, next to a body of liquid known as Ullswaterⁱⁱⁱ, our home for the week boasted everything that you would expect and more, namely jaw-dropping ragged scenery, jaw-jarring rocky trails and the occasional sure-footed mountain goat^iv. The lodge itself sat above the village at the end of an ascending series of very long and very steep hills (hereafter referred to as THE HILL), which provided welcome relief at the start of the runs and sheer agony at their conclusion.

Standard scenery: big things, green things and a nice path to run on. The Almond Lodge is in the bottom left of the picture and is by NO means at the bottom of THE HILL.

In terms of facilities, the Almond Lodge had the standard set up: underground kitchen and dining room, above ground lounge, drying room and dormitories. Showers, or rather one shower for the boys and two showers for the girls, were available and their positioning as far a way from the dormitories as possible entailed some interesting and much appreciated towel walks. The architect's general emphasis appeared to have been placed on cosiness, although not everyone interpreted the layout in this way, preferring not to spend their early morning hours listening to swamp-snoring, strange shuffling sounds and a mysterious bleeping device. Others seemingly couldn't get enough of the conditions! Andy Bell: "I quite like piling into a room with lots of men." By mid-evening most people had arrived, acclimatised and bagged the best beds. Richard Mathie and Mark Coley celebrated the onset of the camp by running down to the pub and back up THE HILL, twice, in an early bid to accumulate points, with Hannah Brice leading them both back after their first set of beers as they couldn't run straight. The final stragglers showed up around 2.15am to wearily collapse onto the lounge sofas, having been advised by a friendly 24-hour mechanic to spend the last portion of their motorway journey at a cruising speed of 43mph. The rest of night passed fairly uneventfully as we drifted off to sleep to the sound of girls going to the bathroom (also situated a long way from the warmth of the sleeping bag^v). A mystery assailant grabbed Owain's leg at 4am but he didn't really mind.

Sunday:

Fascinating Fact of the day: In Slovakia the word for vegetarian apparently eludes the indigenous population and individuals that are this way inclined may be referred to repeatedly as vegetables. (Laura Dixon)

After the customary early morning run, during which the joys of THE HILL were discovered by most, a battle plan was formulated for the rest of the day with the objective being to scale all 950 vertical metres of Helvellyn, the third highest Lakeland fell. For some hardy folk this walking venture was just not enough of a challenge and they decided to conduct the trip for the most part with both feet off the ground. Incidentally, the presence of ice on the ground necessitated that the usual suspects of the walking expedition also enjoyed moments with both feet off the ground.

Meanwhile, back at the lodge, further collapses occurred: Will George had decided that a soft-boiled egg for lunch would be just the ticket and set about with the pan and the water. Unfortunately his adherence to the oft-repeated 3min cooking rule resulted in an egg that fell flat on its face^vi. This was enough of a shock to persuade him to stick to what he knew best and go on a long afternoon run around Ullswater with Paolo and Owain. What followed was fifty-minutes of up and down, up and down, up and down action, before our resident Italian enlightened Owain and Will to his knowledge that the perimeter of the lake was in fact over 25miles in distance. At this point a retreat was made back to the lodge, the return journey being made more exciting by a sheep ambush (they really had pulled the wool over our eyes^vii) and the final jaunt up THE HILL.

Back on the mountainside, the walkers had found the icy conditions near the ironically named Striding Edge tough going and had turned around. On their trek back to base camp they passed a fell rescue team having a rant into their radio about "a group of reckless fell runners out from "Oxford!" and wearing shorts and T-Shirts". Well they got most of the description right. These gents were none other than the running crew: the three Riches (Hewitt, "no rubber" Lebon and Mathie) plus Steve Benson. Despite being handicapped by the inability to stand, the group managed to reach the summit and live to tell the tale. On the way back down they bumped into a none-too-impressed National Park Ranger who had a thing or two to say to them about their choice of attire.

The mountain walkers pose at a tarn

The mountain runners head off into the unknown.

On returning to the lodge a meal fit for kings awaited them: couscous and meaty/non-meaty chunks. A group of Hareys had been rock climbing and they too returned a bit later, unfortunately to discover that most of the food had been devoured by the ravenous hordes. Content in the knowledge that a name had been established for the Hare & Hounds (again) in the Lake District we all went to bed happy that night, apart from Jacob who had adopted a work until 5am, sleep until 1pm routine. This was all in an effort to complete some kind of proposal for making Aristotle wash his clothes and do all his work (as is my understanding of SPS).

Some time during the night a short poem was also written containing a plethora of witticisms suitable as alternative BUSA slogans. Reproduced in its entirety and digitally re-mastered it can be found in Appendix B.

Monday:

Fascinating Fact of the day: The library at Christ's College has showers [in case the work gets the sweat rolling?]. (Lance Rane)

Yesterday the mountains had been conquered, today was the turn of the lake. The plan was to a take the Ullswater Ferry out into the drink and drop people off at various locations for a run back to the lodge via the perimeter of the Lake. The options available were either a 6-mile walk/run from the Howtown pier or a 13-mile run from the Pooley pier (possibly named in rememberance of our own sadly-departed Pooley). The ride on the ferry itself was quite exciting, if not a little scary due to the singing of the local yokels, and some of our number unexpectedly found their sea legs: Catharine Wood (sitting in stationary ferry moored at pier): "I wonder if we'll be doing this speed for the whole journey?"

Riding on the Ullswater Ferry (or are we?)

Once we really got moving, I.E. off the ferry, onto the lakeside path and no longer limited to the paltry water speed limit of 10mph, things started getting interesting. Owain, Paolo and Will set off briskly hoping to hunt down the 6 milers and, at the very least, the walkers, while the others followed more cautiously not too far behind. This run gave us the opportunity to both experience the wonders of Will's GPS thingy, which not only gave an "accurate" measure of our running speed but also the distance traversed and the elevation and to hear Paolo growling... because he thought it might help. After a few dubious eight minute miles things got back on track with a completely bona fide 3 minute mile, maybe. As the runners pranced along the shores of Ullswater there was very little opportunity to admire what was without doubt a fantastic view. This was due to the law of running on uneven surfaces that states that unless one keeps looking at the ground one metre ahead at all times a big rock/root is highly likely to spring up and cause all manner of trouble.

Anyway for everyone who spent their running time watching their feet here is a picture of Ullswater in all its unctuous majesty:

The running route around Ullswater could best be described as variable with roads, grassland, rocky paths, mud, water, flatland and a fair few hills. There really was something for everyone and wandering weather to match.

PN, OB, and WG sped past the surprised walkers and onto the big, bad bit of the run where Paolo put in an interesting set of surges that the others felt it would be rude not to respond to. Arriving back at the lodge slightly out of breath we were greeted by the exciting new that the building's water had for some reason been rendered undrinkable. Good thing that no one had been taking part in a dehydrating activity in the morning then!

Back down at the lakeside Pete Leek was forging ahead leaving the others trailing in his wake, his desire for hills being finite yet unbounded. Meanwhile fresher Hannah Brice, the only double x to take on the full 13 miler, was executing the run in textbook fashion, starting off steadily and picking off tiring/dying people in the later stages. The latter category included Si, who had been destroyed sufficiently by Pete's hill surging to the extent that he was burning fuel fast on an empty tank. Happily after some help from fellow runner Lance Rane and a few dollops of sugar he was back to normal and planning his next long run. The prevalent mood of the next few hours can best be summed up by the sound bite of Tim "soon-to-be-famous" Taylor: "Am I going for another run today? Am I b**l***s!"

Hannah Brice poised to move through the field

Come late afternoon though, the hordes were raring to indulge in a spot of exercise once more and Catharine, still bubbling over with unharnessed energy, was only too happy to lead a group core strength session in the confined conditions of the lounge. Planks were held, a crunch-off occurred and some testosterone-gripped individuals even attempted to pull off a double clap press-up, with mixed results. Paolo struggled with some of the poses but can be comforted in the knowledge that he was considered the most callipygian^viii of the participants (at least in the opinion of Rich. L). The photo below should help you make your own mind up on that one.

The "Core" of the Club
Johnathon Smith: "Tim Taylor goes down well"

But the body admiration did not just extend in the Italian Stallion's direction. Emma Figures brought Ailbhe Burke well and truly into the attention spotlight with another well placed comment: "You have wonderful breasts... come on guys you were all thinking the same thing!"

The day concluded with another top-notch dinner and a trip down THE HILL to the public house, but not before Tim Taylor's guitar was pulled out and placed in the capable hands of Paolo for a bit of minstrel-like strumming... until it was returned to its owner. Much to Richard M's chagrin Tim did not then go on to "marinade him in the kitchen". A welcome return was also made to "Cranium" (the game your whole brain can play) with Will doing quite a good impression of a fairy cake, captured on film, but inexplicably deleted since.

Tuesday:

Fascinating Fact of the Day: Speaking Russian with a Georgian accent is equivalent to sounding like a South Devon farmer. (Richard Lebon)

What's the Lake District famous for apart from the poetry and the hills? That's right, rain! The weather finally reared its slightly damp head and proceeded to shake it all about. Our point-accumulating stalwarts were not deterred by this, however, and went out on their usual morning run. For those who had stayed behind Tim "birthday boy" Taylor had devised a special celebratory challenge: an attempt to do 1000 press-ups in a day, split up into sets of 20+. This proved too exciting an event to miss and soon a whole throng of people were heaving and hoing in the close quarters of the lounge^ix. In their rest break Owain decided he would emulate Paolo and Tim's double clapping but misjudged the speed at which he was travelling and ended up giving the floor a friendly head butt to which it retaliated. The result was a rapid trip to see Mr. Tissue to evict the haemoglobin rhinos. As for the challenge itself, Tim decided to call it a day after doing an impressive 300 or so big ones, claiming that it was getting boring (and it was getting on for lunchtime), he was obviously saving his energy for the afternoon and evening activities.

Action from the 1000 press-up challenge (approximately 20 press-ups in).

Just like in term time, Tuesday afternoon was designated as being the long rep slot and Si had devised a machievellian session consisting of 4mins hard, 30s float, 1min hard, then repeating four to five times with a 1min 30 jog recovery. The running took place at Keswick along an out-and-back course next to the path of a railway, with a nice hill thrown in for good measure. The beauty of this was that the further you got going out, the harder you had to work to overtake people on the way back and it also meant that some interesting terrain was discovered at the backend, including a slippy-sliddy wooden bridge with a complete hairpin loop. For those who didn't fancy this lung bursting sort of running or who wanted to further augment their mileage score, a steady run also took place, looping around Derwent Water.

Running around Keswick, near Derwent Water.

Everyone who was too injured, too tired or preferred hills and lakes of the indoor variety spent the afternoon at Keswick swimming pool and the climbing centre. The remainder of the Hareys who wanted to run but didn't fancy negotiating puddles or gradients, I.E. Paolo and Valerie Graff, took a trip up the M6 in Paolo's Ferrari^x for a hard-core interval session at the Carlisle running track.

James Gill tries to get a grip on the situation.

As is mathematically common in a group of 20-30 people, Tim was not the only one who had a birthday on Tuesday. Sabrina Verjee was also celebrating being a year older and wiser and the obligatory baking of cakes (courtesy of Aidan & Sarah Industries)/traditional singsong marked this joint occasion. The party then moved on to the pub where the birthday girl deftly wrapped her brassiere around the birthday boy's head. Despite repeated requests to get naked Tim refused to be swept along by peer pressure and was rewarded with an Anzac biscuit dastardly thrust into his most sensitive area^xi.

Sometime prior to all this Paolo managed to live up to his reputation as a love machine of mystery. In between repeated calls from Dan Bray (of CUAC fame) he was summoned to the phone to explain himself to the commandment-breaking accusations of an irate man. Disappointingly, Paolo was innocent of all the sordid insinuations levelled at him and patiently explained this with his usual politeness.

Wednesday:

Emma Figures (to Aidan Brown): "Is that a tricky problem Aidan? You look puzzled." Aidan: "No...it's a postcard."

Day 5 in the Almond Lodge and the water is still deemed unsafe to drink. Another attempt was made on Helvellyn, this time with more success. Various morning runs took off, the most significant being a trek along the Kirkstone Pass to Ambleside, essentially one huge uphill followed by one huge downhill with a lone public house in the middle. Several Hareys completed the full 20 mile round trip, including Pete Leek, universally acclaimed Man of the Mountains^xii, now firmly establishing himself as a firm favourite to pull off the 100 point challenge, along with Si and Rich M.

Hareys head up a path known as 'The Struggle' to Ambleside

In the meantime, back at the lodge, a group of bold mountaineers had decided to engage in a traditional Lake District pursuit: climbing Scafell Pike, England's highest point of elevation. Surely they wouldn't make the same mistakes as the 2004 Bell, et al. expedition? Unfortunately history tends to repeat itself and once again no one had remembered to bring a map. This resulted in the group taking a four-hour walk around the base of the 978m-high mountain. Still, at least they got some good photos:

The Scafell Pike expedition minus James Gill

Everyone else used post-lunch Wednesday as an opportunity to either get cracking on some work, or collapse, or both; the strain of a heavy mileage diet was slowly getting to some. Richard Mathie seemed especially afflicted being heard talking to the drying room door at around 3pm. He later claimed that the weight of the door had led him to believe that someone one was in there (and presumably engaged in something that they didn't want interrupted).

Once the precious afternoon hours had been frittered away with procrastination, a genetics debate and the occasional game of Hearts, a large gaggle of Hareys embarked to Carlisle to seek out a good swimming pool. They weren't really fussed as long as its dimensions were greater than those of the joker village pool^xiii. Meanwhile the Scafell crew arrived back safely and immediately set out on a late run. However, in doing so they made a number of school boy errors: a) It was pitch black outside (good job some flashy head-lights were available), b) Richard L. had decided to eat first and c) Lance had decided to economise on time by having his shower before the run. Despite these handicaps they still managed to get in some more valuable points before the mile-pint changeover time.

On the return of the aqua-Hareys, there was a general rush for the remaining spag-bol. Richard M. wasn't too worried though; his mother had made sure that he hadn't left home without bringing his own unique brand of low G.I. carbohydrates!

"Warning: increases in size when cooked"!

The night ended with another trip to the pub, some more cranium dallying and a bit of controversy involving, amongst other things, tsunamis, trousers and Germany. Unfortunately the writer was in bed at the time so the story is taken up below by a reliable source:

A short note to explain the Emma/Jason/John/Catharine saga from the recollections of Aidan Brown: Jason, while visiting Emma in Wales, tugged at her skirt, and asked: 'Does this come off easily?' (Or something like that). Emma's mother and uncle were also in the room. Jason was apparently referring to the cat hairs on Em's skirt, not the skirt itself, which he was quick to explain. John heard about this, and tried the chat-up line on Catharine. 'These trousers,' he demanded, briefly touching her leg, 'Are they easy to take off?' He repeated the question several times to an increasingly confused Catharine, who eventually fled, waving her chocolate and orange shortbread in distress. Emma then tried the line on every convenient man in the lodge, apparently without success. Aidan even tried it on with James Gill. He is still waiting for an answer.

And a further quick quote, sadly misinterpreted: "Have you ever had ceps?" (Aidan, to Claire Nance) We really were talking about mushrooms.

Oh yes, and, on an unrelated note, later in the night the floor downstairs started oozing water. Oh well.

Thursday:

Richard Lebon (to Emma Figures): "Do I have any of your clothes from yesterday Emma?"

Our last full day on camp was spent in a variety of locations. Most people took another trip to Keswick for a steady run/swim, while a select squad made their way up to Carlisle to take advantage of its track and swimming facilities. The route around Derwent Water had become much more challenging since Tuesday, being flooded in places. Laura Dixon came a cropper while striding through a giant puddle that turned out to be a stream with a submerged bridge lurking somewhere below the surface. Terrain feature 1 Runners 0.

Over at Carlisle, Paolo "catch me if you can" Natali had established his other reputation as a top-gear type driver, hitting an impressive 160^xiv on the M6. Once into the urban zone the Corsa experienced some navigational issues that culminated in its driver attempting to make a dubious U-turn on an enclosed section of dual carriageway. Some hasty persuading by the other occupants of the car changed Paolo's mind and he contented himself in going all the way around a roundabout, ambitiously starting in the outermost lane and weaving his way all the way in and all the way out again. On arriving at the athletics track, which, the car passengers were pleased to find, had toilets, Paolo, Will and Owain proceeded in readying themselves for the session. Paolo's idea was to run a 3km (9min30), 2km (6min10), 1500m(4min 30) and finish with a 2min55 1km. Disturbingly he revealed that the "recovery" during all this would be a series of 3min40 kilometres! When it was pointed out to Owain that he would in fact have to break his 10km PB in order to finish on schedule a rethink was considered necessary. After much faffing about on an otherwise deserted track, it was decided that Paolo would do his session as planned and Will and Owain would do 2k, 1500,1k, 800 simultaneously, thus allowing us some precious recovery time and giving Paolo the opportunity to utilise a couple of pacemakers/windbreaks^xv. With strong, multilingual support from Val and Sabrina the beast was tamed and the group headed off to lunch/swim in Carlisle and give Mr. Natali the chance to get behind the wheels of another powerful machine.

Not quite a Ferrari-but definitely the next best thing.

Coming to the final night of the camp (sob), there was no better a way to end it than to celebrate a successful week's efforts with a curry at Glenridding's finest eating emporium. A cream-cracker challenge was undertaken and Tabby Steele emerged victorious, swallowing three of the flaky fellows in less than a minute and beating all other contestants out of sight^xvi. Following dinner, Richard Mathie, in the guise of our compere, presented a string of prizes to Hareys to reward their endurance, their quirks and their general all-round appeal to the fairer sex. Of particular note was the awarding of Animal-of-the-Camp® to Hannah Brice for her outstanding lakeside run and the general recognition for point achievements given to the three worthy gentlemen shown below.

The victors of the 100-point challenge enjoy their 100th point and the adulation it brings. They are: Pete Leek (Man of the Mountains), Captain Si and Richard "Pace judgment" Mathie.

Aidan adds: There's one more comedy award you might not have heard about. Once again, I received the "bless him, he doesn't know how to untie his shoelaces award," in the shape of a fine red and black pair from Ailbhe, found in my pigeonhole today [Monday 16th January]. This was after I tried to run the last few miles back from the lake bare-foot with Claire and Ailbhe.

Already roused by all this prize-giving mirth, the party stumbled up THE HILL to have a rest at the Travellers Rest where Rich M successfully head butted the ceiling. Heading on from there and back up to the lodge, a laptop disco was quickly set up in the lounge and before you could say, "that's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheiiiiiiiit" a large swarm of revellers had appeared and were jumping up and down in unison. Unfortunately, in the efforts of the merrymakers downstairs to raise the proverbial roof, a number of cracks materialised in the ceiling directly below the disco. A change of venue was urgently needed and when the call of duty came it was the humble kitchen that answered. Despite being a tad cramped, it provided a collection of comedy props to help make Bohemian Rhapsody sound even better.

By the way, in case you are worried how this raucous shindig was affecting the scholarly Jacob Eisler, the follow exchange should set your mind at ease:

Izzy Burnham: "Jacob is trying to work!" Andy B: "Jacob is not trying to work-the last I heard he was trying to compare his [pasta] size with Richard Mathie!"

Gods' Kitchen

As the night went on, the music slowed and people began to drift away to bed. Tim Taylor remained happy to prance around enjoying his newfound status and inviting peckish people to take a bite out of his novelty-clothing accessory^xvii. Meanwhile Paolo and Jacob made an extra-early getaway, but not before some assistance had been given to a drunkenly devised amateur dramatics set piece.

	Tim Taylor providing a working demonstration of why he was voted the most eligible bachelor of CUH&H (sample size: Sarah's car).

Friday:

Sadly this was the day on which we had to bid farewell to our favourite Almond Lodge. Pete Leek carried out a final run to raise his mileage total to a fantastic century.... while everyone else sat about clutching their limbs and seriously wondering if they'd ever be able to walk downstairs again. All this pain was forgotten though in order to get in a serious bout of cleaning, washing and tidying. Thanks in part to the maternal instincts of Catharine, the lodge was left looking spick and span by the time the hour came for departure. Some might even say that it was in a cleaner state than when we found it. As things were being packed up, James discovered that some of the most magic events of the night before had been immortalised on his camera. (Un)Fortunately said images are too suggestive and incriminating to be printed here (this is a report for the whole family to enjoy, after all) but they can easily be reproduced in your own home using a broom handle, a boot, Rich M, Tim T, Andy B and a passing Italian.

Finally we hit the great southern road in our convoy of cars and minibus and sped back to our usual abodes. Everyone got home safely, although for some the effects of the week's rigours were apparent. Andy, in particular, found it necessary to load himself up with caffeine at Burger King to prevent entrance to a comatose state at 80mph. To the relief of his passengers he pulled into service stations to doze in preference to other vehicles.

Coda:

So it was that the men and women of the mountains did return to the flat land of Cambridge or thereabouts to rest their weary souls and prepare for the impending county cross-country championships. Victory and triumph over the weather, terrain and lack of drinking water were theirs and it had once again been proved that when the going gets tough the tough get Harey. Looming on the horizon now are the remainder of the College League races and, of course, the 2006 BUSA Cross Country Championships, next stop Stirling! It should be a picnic after THE HILL of Glenridding!

The points sheet for the hundred point challenge is here. The winner was Pete, and second were Si and Rich M.

Credits:

This Hare & Hounds production was brought to you by Si Rutherford (Director), Catharine Wood (Stage Manager), Neil Mathur (Transport Coordinator), Sarah Kummerfeld (Assistant Transport Coordinator + Catering) and all the other people who made their cars available and helped in the kitchen. A big thank-you to everyone! Surely songs will be sung of your doings for many a month. Further thanks to Andy, Ailbhe, James, Richard L, Sarah, Claire Nance, Tabby and Sabrina for allowing a photographic record of the week to be portrayed.

Appendix A:

Paolo Natali's Lost and Found:

A light blue thong with a black "Ding Dong..." inscription on the front, and on the back another longer sentence, which perhaps you remember (LOST)
A green t-shirt that I used all week, although I have reason to believe it must have walked out of my bag on its own, so dirty it was (LOST)
A mug with "Arnold" printed on it... (LOST)
A right ankle (LOST)
My mental sanity (LOST)
A witch hat made with a corn flakes box and a trash bag (FOUND)
A candy bra, or to be more precise the remainders of a candy bra after everyone ate from it (FOUND)
Four people madly trying to fit in the booth of my car as if it were a certain cupboard (FOUND)
Will George's kitchen kit (rather than starting the collection, he thought he'd better get rid of it... come on Will, I'll help you find the right way! with some kitchen skills you'll also beat your tri-athlete friends) (FOUND)
A violet pongo ball that looks very much like the cranium one... (FOUND)
A cranium card, which wants you to whistle, "You can leave your hat on" (FOUND)

Appendix B:

Here's "To My Harey Beloved: An Ode to Jacob Eisler (multiple authors):

Fin

Footnotes

Found in South America, answers to Seb.
Site of the conception of one of our number. Who was it? Answers on a postcard!
Technically: Ullswater is the second largest lake at 7.5 miles long. On average 3/4 mile wide and with a maximum depth of 205 feet at Howtown. It has three distinct bends giving it a dog's leg appearance.
Or possibly sheep, they were all so high up and far away.
And the searing heat of the rest of the room
Boy did someone have egg on his face! (Boom, boom cha)
Sorry, that was a baaaad joke (ahem).
Having beautiful buttocks. (Source: Cranium)
Being careful so as to not disturb the 1A maths supervision that was just about to start in the same room.
Opel Corsa
His gums.
Not to be confused with Thorin, son of Thrain son of Thor, King Under the Mountain.
Nine by five metres
Km/h (it was an Opel after all)
Yep, the track had exactly the same back-straight headwind as our beloved Wilberforce Road
Although it has since been pointed out that the accessories used for the challenge were not cream crackers but rather water biscuits, a subtle yet important difference.
Strangely it was mainly the boys who took up his offer.