A couple of weeks ago I was part of a life-altering event.
Lucy (my girlfriend), a social worker based in Burton/Tamworth, decided on the off-chance that she would apply for a job with the Worcestershire County Council. She did this based around the idea of getting experience of applying for jobs and interviews, as she knew she wanted to leave her current position at some point, although maybe not just yet, and, I mean, she was sure she’d never even get an interview…
…but she did get an interview, and she went to the interview, and impressed them so much that they phoned her less than 2 hours later offering her the job, after having blown the competition out of the water.
Anyway, all of a sudden, my life got flipped-turned upside down, and before I knew what was going on, I was making plans to not only vacate my current residence in Birmingham for pastures greener in Worcester, but preparing to move in with my girlfriend for the first time.
Anyway, all of this preamble and rubbish is here to justify the telling of the legend of Dan’s Hole. Told by my good friend Cos, the only surviving witness to the events which took place. Enjoy:
Once, long ago, in 2007, there was a Great Flood. The settlement of St. John’s was completely cut off from Mainland Worcester. It was a dark time; people couldn’t go to work, consumers couldn’t reach the city’s retail establishments, children couldn’t go to school. There was no way across.
Some enterprising and fun-loving students at the local academic institute enjoyed kayaking on the racecourse which was now its own lake. But, with traffic utterly stopped, it seemed that the way into Worcester was all but destroyed.
Until one night. On one fateful night, after some knock off Lambrini, two brave knights looked at the flood waters and said “Nay, this is merely a trifle” and vowed to cross the uncrossable depths. Loaded with courage, vim, and deeply unpleasant, overly sweetened fizzy wine-derived beverage, the two men set off.
It wasn’t long before the two were waist deep in the murky waters of the Severn, taking on this terrifying gauntlet in good spirits. However, while the levels of the water were one thing, the murkiness of the water was another thing entirely. Visibility, especially under the sole lights of the dim moon, was at a low, and with bravery comes capriciousness and a dangerous lack of caution.
That the flooded road into the mainland was uneven and sloping presented an unusual illusion; whilst walking side by side, our two adventurers appeared as though they were travelling the same road. They were not. Unbeknownst to Sir Daniel, of the clan Hollands, he was walking upon a raised brick wall. Cos, of the clan Ryan, was on the stable road. This situation was not an issue, until the wall ended.
Suddenly, without warning, Sir Daniel reached the end of the wall and his body acted as any body would when faced with the uncompromising force of gravity; the floodwaters up to the chests of these brave souls, in a split second Sir Daniel sank beneath the dark, cold depths.
Cos looked around, shocked, terrified, not knowing the fate of his trusted companion. For less than a second, he felt for sure his friend was gone.
Then, shocked, wet and nonplussed, Sir Daniel arose from the waters like a magnificent dolphin, his camera utterly fucked, at which point Cos burst into seemingly unending and almost painful laughter at his friend’s hilarious misfortune.
Following this, the two brave adventurers made it into town, ignored the looks they received from all passersby, bought some fried chicken and sat on a bench with water up to their waists, enjoying the hot, greasy meat and unique ambience.
Their lives went on after this, and the two went on to have many more adventures. But they have never, and will never, forget the dangerous natural hazard that became known as Dan’s Hole.