Previous tours had seen Thursday as a 'bonding' night, and this tour was no exception as we descended on Pizza Piazza, although not before Birdy had either broken or forgotten all the deadlines he'd set for the pubs beforehand.  During the meal, it became increasingly apparent that the club had attracted a new superstar - someone who was not afraid to say what she meant...and perhaps sometimes someone who had to check what she had said.   With Kath a now a mother/wife, and Alex married, the side were looking to promote a new youngster through the ranks.  Whether she would make it to the ranks of tour tart were unknown, but I knew, with Helly on the tour, things were going to be amusing....!

With the pizza a distant memory, messrs Hackett and Bird were waiting for Geoff's horn to start Friday.  Suffice to say (and thank God) this was the horn on his car.  With Elmo accompanying us, off we set at 10 a.m.  A rather sedate journey ensued.  Quite how the car windows survived the 4 part harmonies to some songs remains unknown.  Then again, how the car windows survived Geoff and Elmo's farting assault on the way back is even more concerning.

With everyone settled in, and trying to work out a) what everyone's tour name was, and b) whether you had to drink with your left and right hand, it wasn't long before we descended en masse to the village (?) of Topsham.  Here the battle lines were drawn.  The sensible ones went off for a gentle stroll and a cream tea.  The rest decided culture was the order of the day and invaded the local pub.  With the afternoon spent in the pub, the evening beckoned and the trip to the curry house.  There was a flashback to tours of yesteryear as Elmo retired hurt and had to leave for the hotel after trying to headbutt his curry.  Elsewhere, Colin was lost, Birdy had the hottest Madras ever experienced (sorry Helly) and was almost smitten with Lorraine, who, on reflection, has the dirtiest laugh ever.  The night finished early for some.  Others found solace - and insomnia in the hotel bar.   Which leads us to Saturday...

I'm not sure what woke me up.  Maybe it was my mobile phone.  Maybe it was Hackett farting.  Or perhaps a combination of both.  All I knew was it was 11:10 and all was not well.  The dulcet tones of Kath barked into my phone..'you are a useless finesmaster, I'm taking over'.  And whilst there was a military type coup, Hackett did a military type poo, which put the bathroom out of use for an hour or so.  Undeterred, we managed to make the meet time for the games (despite getting fined for some morning meet time that hadn't actually existed!)

And so, the games.  I'm not sure who we played to be honest - whether they were Exeter hockey club itself or someone else.  We did know they were good, and despite some heroics from Keith in goal, we still lost somewhere in the region of 10-1.  For the second game, I was in goal.  Shame I hadn't been told so I didn't have any kit (nice box Keith - and thank God I said Keith there).  I think we lost that one 3-1.  Elmo played some brilliant advantages, shame they were all to them.  After showering, well those that could, a trip to the Seven Stars pub ensued where it became apparent that no-one knew where Hackett was.  He managed to find us.  At this point Sergeant Buckeridge was well into the fines.  There may have been less then 20 of us on tour, but by the end we had enough to buy the pub! Thanks to the bar staff who provided some excellent hot food...maybe too much as some people struggled at the Mexican restaurant...

The Mexican restaurant was a strange affair, Delightfully situated on the first floor, you could only get there if you waded through to the back of the ground floor, where it seemed they were creating one of the battles from the Toxteth riots.  Riot gear removed, it was an opportunity for some to hit the tequilas and margheritas.  For others, just the opportunity to hit the wall when we saw the size of some of the food portions!  The waitresses were like they were straight out of drama school.  That may account for the look on the face of one of them when I said to Hackett 'your breasts are huge' when she thought I meant her.   And so the après meal...some like to sit down with a coffee or cigar etc.  Helly obviously benefits from ballroom dancing as she preyed on Geoff and John - who have a combined age of about 5 times hers (and no I wasn't jealous I didn't get a dance!)

With the meal still weighing heavy on the stomachs, it was decision time outside the restaurant.  Most people headed for the hotel, but Helly, Pauline, Dancey, Ian, Andy and I headed for the clubbing scene.  Sadly Andy had about as much chance of getting into the nightclub as Colin has of growing a Mohican and he was taken back to the hotel, leaving the 5 of us down in the Warehouse club in the quays.  It was a pretty good club.  Dancey preened all night (a little bit arrogantly), Helly danced all night with Pauline, Ian protected Helly from the phantom bottom fondler and I sat clutching Helly's Puma bag as all these huge blokes stared at me as though I was an uphill gardener.  Mind you, as the run-up to chucking out (or in Exeter it seems to chucking up) time approached, we all made it on to the dancefloor for a final boogying session, including one filthy song at the end (Pauline, it is called "My Neck, My Back" and it is by Khia, just in case you were curious!

We were back in the hotel bar at around 2 a.m., saying goodnight to Colin and Steve as they left the bar.  An hour was spent having a drink, which gave Helly enough time to conclude she had concussion, and needed her leg amputating, all from a hit by a ball.  Birdy chuckled at such remarks, unaware what some man had in store for his wrist in the next hockey game (I've just re-read that and that sounds wrong!!!)

And so to the Sunday and the game against....well, someone with Otter in the name.  And it soon proved a big mis-Tarka to be playing them, as, astonishingly, they were fitter and more skilled then the team of yesterday.  Birdy was in goal again due to Geoff injuring his shoulder (although when he did his hour stint as hotel porter, lugging approximately 250 Kg of bags to the car, it had disappeared!) and it wasn't long before he'd been beaten by an undercut shot that was shielded from his vision by Hackett's belly.  The oppo were winning 3-0 at half-time and we pulled a goal back in the second half, but despite scoring again, we ended up 5-2 losers - although we ran out surprising winners of the sandwich eating competition in the delightful pub (aka The Tardis) afterwards.

And so to the journey home.  As mentioned an eon ago in this report, Hackett and Birdy were subject to some anal extravagance from Geoff and Elmo, who proved just how difficult the body can find it to digest some foodstuffs.  Elmo was a sportsman, raising his hand in acknowledgement, Geoff, very unsporting - all you get was a mischievous grin to accompany the foul smell.

But I don't want to dwell on such topics as I come to the end of the report.  I want to thank on behalf of everyone people like John, Alex, Mike, Keith and Lorraine for organizational input (especially John who has probably contravened AOL's bandwidth restrictions on sending emails!).

I want to also thank everyone else for being such good tourists and hopefully this tour won't be the last!

Below are some quotes and pictures taken from the tour.  There are loads of quotes that I have probably missed (Kath, am still waiting for yours from when you took over my roles...?!) but these should be enough to keep you going for now.

If you want to feedback any comments, quotes then contact me.

Cheers,
Birdy.

Wednesday 18th May 2005

Thursday 19th May 2005

Friday 20th May 2005

Saturday 21st May 2005

Sunday 22nd May 2005