Uncle Buck
Ghost Writer
- Jul 7, 2003
- 28,071
Well this one really started on Thursday night when I had to retrieve one of our party from Heathrow in the evening, what with the bombings in London that day, we were not sure whether the flight from Glasgow would be running, but alas it was. So gave myself loads of time to get from Brighton to Heathrow and did the journey in under an hour, so another hour to kill. Lots of people with guns at the airport, but no real surprise. The flight landed but no sign of my mate, all the other passengers come out, but still no sign of her. Then after a wait she appears and finally admits that she was late as she waited at the wrong luggage carousel.
Friday morning and the alarm goes off far to early, but 0610 we are in our reasonably priced Albion Cars 8 seater and on our way to Skate land. Pick up the mullet family in Worthing and 8 of the 14 of us are on our way. Check it was not memorable, other than the familiar faces at the port and a load more than I thought would be going. Get on the boat, leg it to the bar, get a decent seat and put the kitty together, 350 euros should be enough for the 10 of us in (I think) and so the pre-season training begins. Not sure where the snakes and ladders set appeared from, but was more worried that we had lost the Oaf, it turns out he had gone exploring and managed to walk into someone’s cabin, not sure who was more shocked the Oaf that he had not broken anything or the occupant of the cabin seeing jug ears walk in on him. Journey was boozing but calm and soon we were approaching France. The boat docked, through passports and then time to find the hotel. We had some ropey French directions and one of those maps that does not really show you anything, so the first bickering, it would have been OK, but we were standing by a sign for the Hotel Ibis!!!
Checked in and luckily for the blokes sharing they had a room each. Dumped stuff, then exploring. The first bar just showed that this was not going to be a cheap weekend, but the beer was wet and l’cidre was interesting. Walk towards town and a pigeon shits on the Oaf. Soon we found the Irish Bar (there is always one of these wherever you go in the world, 3 in Baku), a few beers in there and then on we went. I think we went for some food, simply because the kit inspection later had what looked like food in it. Bumped into the lads from Milton Keynes and back to the Irish Bar. It was lively in there, but at the time none of the atmosphere you sometimes get with England. More beer and then our Scottish guest asked the local drunk in a suit where the best Le Discotheque was, he mumble something to her and then turned his attention to Chris. Now he bought Chris a drink and then would not leave him alone and was getting friendly, a few words were said and he went only to reappear and in the end be chucked out by the bar stuff. We crawled out of there at 2am, Chris and Fatboy disappeared to the clubs, the rest of us stumbled back to the hotel, getting lost and going in various directions. A fully clothed pass out ensued, did not even get one trainer off. It seems when Chris and Andy got back to the hotel, that Chris’ new special friend was waiting for him, in our hotel bar (do not accept drinks from strangers kids) and he had to be removed. The fact that they got a lift back with 2 Algerians was also odder and slightly worrying that they invited these 2 up to one of the rooms, as they were both male.
Woke up Saturday morning with what I thought was the hangover from hell, until Sunday, but that is another story. Not helped that my Scottish mate did not feel rough and she had kept up with us in the drinking stakes. Located Mr and Mrs Mullet in town, bought food which was not settling, so moved on to beer and after a couple back into the swing of things. The rest of the stragglers soon appeared some looking rough and some had just not sobered up. We then met up with our mates Trevor and Nick who had been on the overnight ferry and were just topping up. A few beers around the town, then we found a street with more local bars on it and cheaper booze. Eventually it got to about 1645 and thought best go and find the bus, only to get to the port to see the 1700 bus pull off. No taxi’s around and a bit of worry kicks in, only for an extra bus for waif, strays and pissheads to appear and off we go.
We arrived at the ground, it was in the middle of no where, but we are soon in and looking for the one loo, on seeing the queue the fence seems the best option (other than for the ladies who had to queue, ha ha). Start queuing up for the bar, but suddenly realise that sans alcohol seems there is no point in buying it, so head to the top of the hill to watch the game. At this point our Scottish companion decides to wear her Scotland shirt, so we are all trying to move away from her. The game itself, well it was a friendly. I thought the second half midfield pairing of Hammond and Nicolas complimented each other well, the keepers looked raw and Le Supermarche Chariot had the turning circle of the P&O ferry we had come over on. We lost 2-0 and on the final whistle went to find the bus. Credit to the organisers as they had loads laid on and we were back in town 30 minutes after the final whistle. Back to the hotel, Paisley Shower and change of clothes and off to find some food. Meal was non descript which was a shame as French food is normally superb, but the wine was good and wicker bread basket of a duck that was in our room the next day was, well quaint. After the meal into the bar across the road and loads of Albion in there. Settle down to more beer and l’cidre a singsong and soon a Peruvian band appeared. Eventually the Basil Faulty look a like shut at 2am and bearing in mind the ferry was at 0930 this should have been a sensible time to knock it on the head, but oh no, someone has the bright idea to find Le Discotheque and soon we are wondering. We found a club called the Boat, but something seemed to have happened there, so gave it a miss, a bit more aimless wondering, before back to hotel, into the bar and drunken charging of drinks to my room. Andy and Chris appear with a construction workers hard hat. It seems they had got a lift with him and removed it. About 20 minutes later he comes steaming into the bar, grabs it off the Oaf’s head, when I laugh he ventures forward as if he is going to hit me, he did not, not sure why. Collapse sometime after 4am.
Alarm goes off at 0830 and it is a case of shit shit shit, the boat goes in an hour, chuck gear in bags, settle hotel, set off to port. Get there to realise there are only 12 of us there and 14 on the booking and they will not let us on until we are all there. Eventually the 2 elder statesman appear looking rough and worried and we check in to discover Nick who we had met up with on Saturday is no where to be seen and nobody can remember seeing him since about 3am. Try his mobile but that is in his bag, which is with us. As the boat is about to leave his passport is left with the ferry staff and it is time to head back to Blighty. Back in the bar, but the beer is not settling, except for Fatboy, Chris and the Scot, who have their drinking heads on. A case of beer is bought from duty free and an ice bucket removed from the bar and the beer is now cold. A few hours in and contact is finally made with Nick, who has appeared at the Port. It seems he could not find the hotel and so had slept in an abandoned car!!! Back to Pompey and it is roasting and the trains are screwed. A train from Pompey to Littlehampton, then a bus to Worthing and then a train to Hove. Eventually get back to the flat, should pass out, but dump the stuff and drink the weekend away in town.
All in the name of pre-season training.
Friday morning and the alarm goes off far to early, but 0610 we are in our reasonably priced Albion Cars 8 seater and on our way to Skate land. Pick up the mullet family in Worthing and 8 of the 14 of us are on our way. Check it was not memorable, other than the familiar faces at the port and a load more than I thought would be going. Get on the boat, leg it to the bar, get a decent seat and put the kitty together, 350 euros should be enough for the 10 of us in (I think) and so the pre-season training begins. Not sure where the snakes and ladders set appeared from, but was more worried that we had lost the Oaf, it turns out he had gone exploring and managed to walk into someone’s cabin, not sure who was more shocked the Oaf that he had not broken anything or the occupant of the cabin seeing jug ears walk in on him. Journey was boozing but calm and soon we were approaching France. The boat docked, through passports and then time to find the hotel. We had some ropey French directions and one of those maps that does not really show you anything, so the first bickering, it would have been OK, but we were standing by a sign for the Hotel Ibis!!!
Checked in and luckily for the blokes sharing they had a room each. Dumped stuff, then exploring. The first bar just showed that this was not going to be a cheap weekend, but the beer was wet and l’cidre was interesting. Walk towards town and a pigeon shits on the Oaf. Soon we found the Irish Bar (there is always one of these wherever you go in the world, 3 in Baku), a few beers in there and then on we went. I think we went for some food, simply because the kit inspection later had what looked like food in it. Bumped into the lads from Milton Keynes and back to the Irish Bar. It was lively in there, but at the time none of the atmosphere you sometimes get with England. More beer and then our Scottish guest asked the local drunk in a suit where the best Le Discotheque was, he mumble something to her and then turned his attention to Chris. Now he bought Chris a drink and then would not leave him alone and was getting friendly, a few words were said and he went only to reappear and in the end be chucked out by the bar stuff. We crawled out of there at 2am, Chris and Fatboy disappeared to the clubs, the rest of us stumbled back to the hotel, getting lost and going in various directions. A fully clothed pass out ensued, did not even get one trainer off. It seems when Chris and Andy got back to the hotel, that Chris’ new special friend was waiting for him, in our hotel bar (do not accept drinks from strangers kids) and he had to be removed. The fact that they got a lift back with 2 Algerians was also odder and slightly worrying that they invited these 2 up to one of the rooms, as they were both male.
Woke up Saturday morning with what I thought was the hangover from hell, until Sunday, but that is another story. Not helped that my Scottish mate did not feel rough and she had kept up with us in the drinking stakes. Located Mr and Mrs Mullet in town, bought food which was not settling, so moved on to beer and after a couple back into the swing of things. The rest of the stragglers soon appeared some looking rough and some had just not sobered up. We then met up with our mates Trevor and Nick who had been on the overnight ferry and were just topping up. A few beers around the town, then we found a street with more local bars on it and cheaper booze. Eventually it got to about 1645 and thought best go and find the bus, only to get to the port to see the 1700 bus pull off. No taxi’s around and a bit of worry kicks in, only for an extra bus for waif, strays and pissheads to appear and off we go.
We arrived at the ground, it was in the middle of no where, but we are soon in and looking for the one loo, on seeing the queue the fence seems the best option (other than for the ladies who had to queue, ha ha). Start queuing up for the bar, but suddenly realise that sans alcohol seems there is no point in buying it, so head to the top of the hill to watch the game. At this point our Scottish companion decides to wear her Scotland shirt, so we are all trying to move away from her. The game itself, well it was a friendly. I thought the second half midfield pairing of Hammond and Nicolas complimented each other well, the keepers looked raw and Le Supermarche Chariot had the turning circle of the P&O ferry we had come over on. We lost 2-0 and on the final whistle went to find the bus. Credit to the organisers as they had loads laid on and we were back in town 30 minutes after the final whistle. Back to the hotel, Paisley Shower and change of clothes and off to find some food. Meal was non descript which was a shame as French food is normally superb, but the wine was good and wicker bread basket of a duck that was in our room the next day was, well quaint. After the meal into the bar across the road and loads of Albion in there. Settle down to more beer and l’cidre a singsong and soon a Peruvian band appeared. Eventually the Basil Faulty look a like shut at 2am and bearing in mind the ferry was at 0930 this should have been a sensible time to knock it on the head, but oh no, someone has the bright idea to find Le Discotheque and soon we are wondering. We found a club called the Boat, but something seemed to have happened there, so gave it a miss, a bit more aimless wondering, before back to hotel, into the bar and drunken charging of drinks to my room. Andy and Chris appear with a construction workers hard hat. It seems they had got a lift with him and removed it. About 20 minutes later he comes steaming into the bar, grabs it off the Oaf’s head, when I laugh he ventures forward as if he is going to hit me, he did not, not sure why. Collapse sometime after 4am.
Alarm goes off at 0830 and it is a case of shit shit shit, the boat goes in an hour, chuck gear in bags, settle hotel, set off to port. Get there to realise there are only 12 of us there and 14 on the booking and they will not let us on until we are all there. Eventually the 2 elder statesman appear looking rough and worried and we check in to discover Nick who we had met up with on Saturday is no where to be seen and nobody can remember seeing him since about 3am. Try his mobile but that is in his bag, which is with us. As the boat is about to leave his passport is left with the ferry staff and it is time to head back to Blighty. Back in the bar, but the beer is not settling, except for Fatboy, Chris and the Scot, who have their drinking heads on. A case of beer is bought from duty free and an ice bucket removed from the bar and the beer is now cold. A few hours in and contact is finally made with Nick, who has appeared at the Port. It seems he could not find the hotel and so had slept in an abandoned car!!! Back to Pompey and it is roasting and the trains are screwed. A train from Pompey to Littlehampton, then a bus to Worthing and then a train to Hove. Eventually get back to the flat, should pass out, but dump the stuff and drink the weekend away in town.
All in the name of pre-season training.
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