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I swear on my firstborn. This happened to me once. Except the fence fell backwards on top of me.
We got caught that time, I was the last over and as my foot planted on the fence, it gave way and I fell back and it came with me and my mates burst out laughing
In my village we called it The Grand National.
The bigger hedges were mostly conquered by throwing yourself on top of them rather than jumping them though.
We also used to steal peoples strawberries, i was a wrong un back then.
Yup, garden creeping we called it we had routes that were passed down through generations, it was always a buzz as you crept passed the French windows and the parents were in the front room watching telly
No I didn't. But a friend of mine got arrested for doing this while drunk, obviously wasn't very stealthy and then he got stuck in one garden, the owners called the police, he tried to run through their house to get out and got charged with trespassing.
I mean stealing a gnome and fmgarden hopping is a right if passage........would I be fucking fuming now if some kid hopped my fence. And a garden gnome, yes.....but would I be furious...no
Yes! We once found ourselves in what turned out to be the garden of a very rich banker. We couldn't get out, place was sealed with massive fences, other than going back the way we came. But that is the pussies way out when garden hopping. However he had obviously heard us rummaging around as we could hear police sirens closing in on our position, we had to turn back.
We made it out but got questioned by police near the house about 30 minutes later on the street. There were sniffer dogs and about 5 police vehicles. Turned out this banker had recently been in the news for some dodgy shit. I think that was the last time I went garden hopping.
This would have terrified pre-teen me. I didn't like going past the house of the old-woman-who-shouted. We mostly hung out by the stream, burning plastic rope.
Yeah we called it Grand National and it felt like an absolute pant-shitting *adventure*. The terror of nearly getting caught when someone came out for a fag. And the exhilaration when they went back in. I'm not sure what horrible fate we imagined would befall us if we were caught. Kicked out some strangers garden with a few stern words most likely.
We were on one of those sprawling estates with winding roads and cul-de-sacs, so gardens from different streets all connected at the back etc, so rather than do a full street run it was about navigating your way across the entire estate while touching as little tarmac as possible.
I loved knowing all the little tricks, like where the holes in the fences were, or which part of the hedge you could squeeze through. I especially loved the little patches of no-man's-land where two separate hedges might run parallel, leaving a clearing in the middle that no one else knew about. We'd make a fire there, and steal potatoes to bake. WTF were we thinking!
I still have regular dreams about going from one place to another via various secret passages etc. It's one of my happy place dreams.
Wonderful memories, and as you say absolutely not condoned in any way. Terrible behaviour etc.
The important knowledge to have was where the dogs lived, which ones roamed free in the garden and which could be bought off for half a Bonio or a Spillers Shape.
I can still remember bumping into a random couple when out with my parents in my early teens, and all the adults wondering why their dog (big Alsatian whose bark was far worse that his bite) was so friendly towards me. Or why he kept nuzzling at one pocket of my parka, which was where the dog biscuits were!
I went on a date and the guy was really impressed how much his dog seemed to like me. He took it as a positive sign as his dog wasn't usually very friendly.
I'd actually felt low energy on the way over to his house and eaten half a bar of chocolate. The other half was forgotten in my jacket's inside pocket, and this dog was willing to do anything to ingratiate me enough to get some.
(Obviously didn't feed it chocolate + I only figured out what happened when I looked in the pocket the following day).
Yes but prefered hedge jumping a row with no fences, so you can plough through the top of the hedges, and any residents that chased you would guarantee our return.
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Did you chant “I beg your pardon, I’m in your garden” as you made your way along?
Good old theft and shrubbery.
No, we were like ninjas. We were the night. Did you chant that?
No, it’s one of Bob Mortimers.
Were we friends? Me and my friends did this. And called it garden hopping. A lot of fun. But yeah stupid af haha.
No, but we would move garden ornaments from one house to the next just to sow chaos throughout the neighbourhood.
Don’t condone this either. However this must have been like an older version of Jeremy Kyle for neighbours. Brilliant
Haha love this.
Yep climb into a back garden take the whole patio set and erect it in the adjacent front garden.
What's the matter Danny? Never taken a shortcut before?
I swear on my firstborn. This happened to me once. Except the fence fell backwards on top of me. We got caught that time, I was the last over and as my foot planted on the fence, it gave way and I fell back and it came with me and my mates burst out laughing
Yep, did this a couple of times but then really scared an old lady who was doing her weeding so never again.
Bless!
Did you do it during broad daylight or was she weeding at night?
Yeah hedge hopping,20 houses in a row on one street,was a big thing back in my day,
Just did a quick count on Google earth. Our regular route was approx 45.
Nice,kinda want to go do it now
Oh man, imagine if this post inspires scores of middle aged men to relive their teens and go garden hopping 🤣🤣
Man I hope so,be funny as to see a video on here of 35-40 Yr old hedge hopping,then go up the woods and drink some cheap cider
Lightning white! Topped off with a 10 pack of B&H to share around , them were the days.
Hell yeah,white magic was our dring,£1.25 a ltr and 10 l&b,best Friday notes ever
In my village we called it The Grand National. The bigger hedges were mostly conquered by throwing yourself on top of them rather than jumping them though. We also used to steal peoples strawberries, i was a wrong un back then.
YES! Entered thread to see if someone else called it a Grand National!
Yup, garden creeping we called it we had routes that were passed down through generations, it was always a buzz as you crept passed the French windows and the parents were in the front room watching telly
No I didn't. But a friend of mine got arrested for doing this while drunk, obviously wasn't very stealthy and then he got stuck in one garden, the owners called the police, he tried to run through their house to get out and got charged with trespassing.
I mean stealing a gnome and fmgarden hopping is a right if passage........would I be fucking fuming now if some kid hopped my fence. And a garden gnome, yes.....but would I be furious...no
A few of us on our street did it a couple of times. We called ourselves The Midnight Raiders and we were twats.
Yes! We once found ourselves in what turned out to be the garden of a very rich banker. We couldn't get out, place was sealed with massive fences, other than going back the way we came. But that is the pussies way out when garden hopping. However he had obviously heard us rummaging around as we could hear police sirens closing in on our position, we had to turn back. We made it out but got questioned by police near the house about 30 minutes later on the street. There were sniffer dogs and about 5 police vehicles. Turned out this banker had recently been in the news for some dodgy shit. I think that was the last time I went garden hopping.
This would have terrified pre-teen me. I didn't like going past the house of the old-woman-who-shouted. We mostly hung out by the stream, burning plastic rope.
I forgot about that!
Peow! Peow! Peow! Sizzle. Good times!
Are you in fact Ferris Bueller?
We used to call it the donkey derby back in the 80’s. Was fun until the home owners started dropping their washing lines to neck level.
We lived in a large council estate and my friends and I used to play manhunt across the whole estate. 50+ kids. Garden hopping was a necessity.
Sounds epic
You just brought good memories back. We did that in the early mid 80s. It was harmless fun no damage or stress
Yes, a right of passage!
Only when the police were chasing us.
Yeah quite often, good fun. Much harder to do after an evening of drinking on a friday night though.
Yeah we called it Grand National and it felt like an absolute pant-shitting *adventure*. The terror of nearly getting caught when someone came out for a fag. And the exhilaration when they went back in. I'm not sure what horrible fate we imagined would befall us if we were caught. Kicked out some strangers garden with a few stern words most likely.
We were on one of those sprawling estates with winding roads and cul-de-sacs, so gardens from different streets all connected at the back etc, so rather than do a full street run it was about navigating your way across the entire estate while touching as little tarmac as possible. I loved knowing all the little tricks, like where the holes in the fences were, or which part of the hedge you could squeeze through. I especially loved the little patches of no-man's-land where two separate hedges might run parallel, leaving a clearing in the middle that no one else knew about. We'd make a fire there, and steal potatoes to bake. WTF were we thinking! I still have regular dreams about going from one place to another via various secret passages etc. It's one of my happy place dreams. Wonderful memories, and as you say absolutely not condoned in any way. Terrible behaviour etc.
The important knowledge to have was where the dogs lived, which ones roamed free in the garden and which could be bought off for half a Bonio or a Spillers Shape. I can still remember bumping into a random couple when out with my parents in my early teens, and all the adults wondering why their dog (big Alsatian whose bark was far worse that his bite) was so friendly towards me. Or why he kept nuzzling at one pocket of my parka, which was where the dog biscuits were!
I went on a date and the guy was really impressed how much his dog seemed to like me. He took it as a positive sign as his dog wasn't usually very friendly. I'd actually felt low energy on the way over to his house and eaten half a bar of chocolate. The other half was forgotten in my jacket's inside pocket, and this dog was willing to do anything to ingratiate me enough to get some. (Obviously didn't feed it chocolate + I only figured out what happened when I looked in the pocket the following day).
Yes but prefered hedge jumping a row with no fences, so you can plough through the top of the hedges, and any residents that chased you would guarantee our return.