Those brave Evertonians, turning up at Moor Lane just 13 hours after Divock had secured the sixth star.
They came, at least, with the succour that Willie Hall’s rosé would refresh them at the Pier Head. But no, he had selfishly decamped to Pollença on grandfatherly duties and the Bordeaux Wine Festival set up next to the Ferry Terminal was dry.
So it was that the Ferry Guinness was to provide the first drink of the day. And the second. The White brothers had by now swelled the numbers to 13 and things were looking good. The President had secured the services of Harry’s friend’s bike and was setting a gruelling pace up and down the mountainous terrain of the Peninsula.
At the Traveller’s Rest, Warren Senior and Junior turned up to help with the sandwiches in altruistic cameo. JC had already joined the throng, cycling the wrong way to make sure he bumped into the peloton. Huddersfield’s finest brew, White Rat, was the drink of choice for many. Elevenses were finished by 2pm and Murph led the charge to the Wheatsheaf, where the gastronomical extravaganza was further enhanced by Duncan’s now traditional provision of Haribo treats to accompany the liquid refreshment.
The sugar rush drove the party on to the final stop on the tasting menu, chile at the Red Lion. Garry Hodgson became the final member of the party, declaring himself available for the Balearics in September.
Gently, the party dispersed. The White Brothers, Shopper Bike Bagley and the jaded skipper went up the Wirral Way and across the coast to catch the final ferry, which landed at the same time as the parade. Good job Handley was back on his tractor by then.
Lazarus’s logistics were as good as ever. See you all next year.