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@edmundro
The tale of the rickety porta cabins reminded me of a bleak day for a student in my school.
Our cabins had 2 classrooms, we were in history(aging, nervous wreck of a teacher- kids would regularly chant ‘dragon dragon’ at her until she wept). Anyway, there was a loud crash and a scream from next door, teacher rushed through followed by all us lot to find a student had fallen through the rotten floor up to her armpits. That was yr8 and the end of her social life in our school.
I don’t remember anyone doing anything on cross country runs but we did a charity walk along the Ridgeway(I grew up in Wantage) twice a year. All the farm kids who lived along the route would either stash cider, fags and snacks along the route to sell or just bunk off and spend the day buzzing past everyone on tractors, quads and scramblers.
The farm kids could get away with murder and skive with impunity under the pretence of ‘farm stuff sir’. It was usually them who came in with knives, cartridges, bits of animals and other weird shit.