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Published: April 11th 2012
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The big day had arrived, time to depart only a few short minutes separating us from a one hour air traffic delay. But who was late....we cast around who was missing? Manager (Dave) and Munch (Max) appeared having arranged for Business Class seats for the Judge (Nigel) and the Banker (Kingsley) to rapturous applause. We looked at the boys for a clue but they all looked the same; a bunch of skin head punks with Boots (Ed) Bieber in the middle, a new age rebel desperate to hold onto his golden locks but forgetting he would have to sleep one day. Through the mists strode Loopy (Oli), we just had 2 to go and then it became clear as 2 collosses strode into the departure hall. Yep Banker and Yoko (Devante) were last to arrive, they will get their come uppance, oh yes...they will be dealt with by the Judge. The assembled throng took photographs to remind us of the start of the great journey and Tony took 6 attempts to find the side of the bag with the sponsors logos on. Thank god we are leaving him home. After wailing from the mums at the loss of their fragile sons
we embarked towards Africa.
Actually....the check-in, The Photographer (Tum) showed the experience built from many pilgrimages and managed to blag us to the front of the queue and so that we were on our way in no time. With swift military precision we marched through passport control and security, The Judge 'ever the executive' used the e-gate so he could wait for us on the far side of the x-ray machines like Billy Nomates rather than staying with the team. Once through the iron curtain of security the passports were returned to the Keymaster (Barry) for safekeeping. Then the first gutsy call of the tour! Rather than taking responsibility for something that could have turned into a rolling goaty thingy, the Manager elected to delegate to the Photographer who had started to practice his counting from 1 to 23, over and over again.
With practised precision he spoke "Ok we are on Gate 144, you need to be there by 0800, no 0810", he looked to the Manager for assent, "what should we do?" The Manager took a deep breath and took an extreme risk, "lets go for 0810" and with that the boys scuttled off like cockroaches
getting out of the light. The Surgeon (Reino) in hot pursuit because the Bomber (Francois) had forgotten to take some dosh. With that the adventurers pressed on for breakfast at Paul's, The Judge clearly with weighty thoughts on his mind requested something without carbs; "A chocolate croissant?" came the useful suggestion.
With trepidation we reached the gate and The Photographer started his mantra; 1,2,3...22,23,24,25,26...37,38. Bloody hell an Under 13s team from Surrey were going on the same aircraft wearing the same sacred black, white and red colours. Problem resolved quickly and after Boots had pushed some poor old lady out of the seat he wished to inhabit, we all sat down. The crew then did their rounds; "Mr Benstead?" they asked the Choirmaster. "No!". "Mr Benstead?" they asked The Photographer. "No!" "Mr Benstead?" they asked the Manager. "No, he is sat in 11A." The stewardess walked forward to see The Judge with great trepidation. When she arrived her colleague was looking vexed, staring at 2 boarding cards "Max and David Mason" and trying to work out how long The Judge and Banker had held a civil union.
The Captain welcomed the passengers and gave a special welcome to
the Dubai Exiles Under 14s and the illustrious Manager who cringed under his teeny, tiny Economy seat, suitably chastened. So into the ATC delay, The Photographer claimed it would never have happened on his watch. Eventually the great white bird arose and the first service was delivered. The base Economy dwellers explained to the Manager how he should eat everything given in the feral world down the back; "you never know where your last meal is coming from!" He readily tucked into something loosely resembling yellow stuff, with bits of grey stuff on top and orange stuff on the sides. The menu claimed it was breakfast, then salvation, the Purser arrived with 3 glasses of Champagne to compensate the Manager for his great feat of self-sacrifice in Working Class. Photog, Choir (Duncan) and Manager snaffled the bottle before settling into some hard video watching.
On the tray a fiendish forfeit started to take shape. There were little packets of crackers..what dark magic are these, could Boots eat one packet without water as penance for a ponces hairdo? "Maybe suggested Choir but he certainly won't be able to eat 4!" The packets were gathered for the right of passage ceremony
that would come on African soil.
Meanwhile down the back, the boys settled in for a multi-player 8 hand poker marathon with the Riddler (Harry) throwing a few cushions around and only hitting one lady wearing an Abaya in the head. Fortunately this could immediately be blamed on the hapless trolls from Surrey.
So we arrived at Capetown to crisp blue skies and set off to go through immigration and security. We got to the baggage carousel where an experienced DESA (drug enforcement and smuggling agency) beagle was doing the rounds. It stopped at the Ghost's (Sam Boyle's) bag. At that point we expected to be surrounded by a crack anti-smuggling team whilst the Ghost experienced an unthinkable search. But lo what was this? His bag was teased open like a ticking bomb and inside....inside..there were some grapes. To the disgust of the rest of the party he was let go (sans grapes) without so much as a warning.
Anyway good news, all the bags had arrived and we loaded up the trollies for the stroll to the bus. All, is a loose word it means lots in some languages, so one bag was missing, yep you
guessed it, the Judge's! With mighty authority he strode to the Baggage Services desk and demanded the location of his underpants. Avoiding the obvious answer, a quick scan of the computer by the craven witch at the desk revealed that the sacred bloomers were safe and sound but still in Dubai due to the need for passage through the oversize baggage belts. The good news was they were being readied for express delivery......the next day.....possibly. The Organiser (Keri) suggested she could personally fly in with the sacred pants but her kind offer received short shrift because it was opening time.
Good news Alan and Kate from Edusport were awaiting our arrival and Nursey (Gareth) and Christa were also on hand to help out. A short bus journey to the hotel revealed that the Hotel Graeme was actually built on top of a pub 'The Slug and Lettuce', what strange black magic was this? The boys zipped off to explore their new surroundings for the coming week.
Missile (Elliot) with Ears (Greg) and Sox (Euan) in the penthouse
Ghost plus Rocket (Liam)
Loopy and Bomber
Boots and T (T)
Yoko with Plumshot (Cameron)
Cal (Cal) and the Munch
Chief Sneak (Matty) and Spaceman (Tom)
Sleepy (Mark) and Tackles (Jack)
Slodge (Sam L) and Squeaky (Sami)
The Riddler and Lines (Aiden)
Pacman (Zack) with Puck (Isaac)
And so onto to dinner, copious quantities of burgers and ribs snaffled at Hudsons whilst watching the South African Varsity Rugby final won by the Tuks. Only 2 beers seen all night. Just two forfeits, Yoko's late arrival and Boots' fringe leading to a cracker race. 10 small crackers without water. Boots a clear winner because Yoko managed half a cracker before succumbing to LMF.
Boys tucked up by 10 (Big 2hr time change to cope with), the staff investigated what the slug was actually doing to the lettuce....and so ended Day 1..........
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