Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Dude, where's my car?

Footman on the blogspot- can't remember the last time I blogged but he goes with an update. Currently sat on a plane that is late (easyjet no surprise) having succesfully completed our rally. The night in Locarno was a fairly thirsty affair with several members of group experiencing issues with head in the morning after the long night out. Video footage has appeared via other teams of some the antics that were going on. One such video depicts spencer picking me up and dispatching me in a rubbish bin although memories as sketchy at best so it still could possibly be actors posing as us.. Come the close of play at 2.00 am the group had descended into a shambles although still having fun and one by one made it home. I thought it was the perfect time that I would share some final thoughts with michelle by telling her I love her. Unfortunately there was a technical issue in that I couldn't spell or operate the SMS as Ed found when he recieced a message from me at 2.30am . The next day was the last leg and the drive to Venice. As Ed hadn't driven the day before he was first up and last up as myself and Charlie were   definately not road worthy. On the way we decided on a trip to lake Como and go for a dip in the lake. All very refreshing and washed away the cobwebs. This then was followed by some civilised rissotto up the side of hr mountain via a fanicula - sorry for spelling (steep train that goes up). All going well until we returned to car. Well the problem was we couldn't return it because it wasn't where we left it. As we soon found out it had been moved by the authorities as we asked a waitress in a bar opposite have you seen a ghostbusters car recently. She confirmed it had been towed away. The reason being a slightly laisez faire piece of parking not in a designated space. Anyway suddenenly realising the problem ahead, there was no note left, or any numbers any where to call  and our combined italian language skills of a hippo we were now set the challenge of finding ecto-1. Mercifully the people working in the bar took pity and made a few phonecalls for us and got an address of the local pound.  Another phonecall and a taxi was on it's way. We colleceted the car and had to depart with a 125 euros. Then weirdly the Italian police the turn up and come and take their share (38 euros). All in it wasn't bad and could have been a lot worse and at the same time we all did some how find it rather ammusing and we met the smoothest taxi driver ever who had careless whisper as a ringtone on his phone - brilliant.  With the car back with it rightful owners and another brush with a European law enforcement agency taken care of we were back on our way. We also nearly had a third brush as Ed making up for a little lost time shot past an Italian patrol car on the motorway.  However they did not bat an eyelid. It was a shame that there liberal attitude to speed isnt reciprocated in their attitude to parking. In fairness though me a and Charlie were both asleep so the spotters weren't really doing the their job.
Having a arrived tired we prepared for a night out and I was provided with what only can be described a attire that would only be worn by a stag. Thankfully it did not involve over exposed body parts. Photos will appear I am sure.  A good night followed in a bar where they free pour sambucas and give you triples instead of sinlgles. I am just not sure they know what they are doing and sure enough we were the last to leave as everyone else had gone home. A fitting end. When back at the hotel the whiskey cupboard in reception was getting seriously eyed up by gregor however fortunaltely remained shut

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