Bon Weekend

Alors, just back from Le Touquet and still – 2 days later – feeling a bit jaded from a stonking weekend. None of this will be half as funny as it was at the time it actually happened, but highlights of Tour 2010 were:

– 6 of us running full tilt into a high jump landing pad and smashing on top of it, pretending we'd not seen it in the way – and repeating this about 20 times (ah, the joys of excess vodka)

– a violently competitive game of musical chairs, resulting in 2 massive bruises and 4 broken chairs

- all 14 of us girls spooning each other on the floor and moving limbs back and forth en synchronised masse to Clarkie's instructions

– Sandy picnic on the beach, with Heinekens a flowing

– Batch falling flat out of the Sports Cafe and face-planting in the street

– The boys up on their chairs in Madame Mimile's bar,singing Bohemian Rhapsody to the girls

– One slightly dodgy French speaker thinking the 'Sauvez Mimile's' body stamps we were all sporting were actually to'Savage' Mimiles rather than to help 'Save' her business from going under…

– One new boy having his hand duck taped to his head all evening as he hadn't managed to get out of bed till 6pm after over indulging a tad the night before

– Same fella being stalked by a Belgian lady, who in the light of day was significantly older than he had thought, ah the visionary skewing of les beer goggles

– The girls turning up to play in the Final as we always do on the final day of the tournament, having chatted to one of the oppo at length the night before in a bar about the game – only to find that we hadn't qualified for it! Silky smooth…

– Me scoring two goals and somehow being joint top scorer (god, a sad day for the Puritans when I'm in the lead!)

– Two of the girls snogging the same lad one evening and having the usual 'who got the sloppy seconds?' conversation to establish moral leadership of the 'pull'

– Same two girls realising they had both had a tactical chunder (puke) before snogging said lucky lad… mmmmm, nice

– Hawksey insisting he had not arrived shitfaced in my room at 5am, only to be confronted with the inner sole of his deckshoes, which he'd left behind as evidence…

And the list goes on.. How long till next year's tour??

Scotty (going back to hiding at my desk now, god I need a sleep…)

x x x