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Day 3:
Saturday 31st July
Montevideo - Toby Crane
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After Simmo had come back from
his trip to a more private place with two pretty
girls we managed finally to persuade our hosts to let us
go to bed and piled into pick up trucks to take us home.
In the morning we met at twelve and after
our first lunch and a brief period as the British Schools'
U12 football team's Cheerleaders (and meeting Gus Poyet)
set off for some sightseeing in Montevideo. In the city
centre
we went
to
see a Victorian
style park and - in the Plaza de la Indepencia - a mausoleum
containing the ashes of the national hero of Uruguay, Artigas.
Here we played the traditional game of "make the fancily
dressed guards move". While on this tour Monty managed
to charm Mary, our guide and a teacher at the British Schools,
into kissing him with a cheeky smile (not sure who
had the smile - Ed.). |
Meeting a Tottenham megastar...
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After this we went to a meat
market (I think he means the world renowned Mercado
del Puerto - Ed.) to try "medio y medio", the traditional
Uruguayan mixture of white wine and champagne and eat a
second lunch of the now unsurprisingly large delicious
hunks of dead cow. The market is situated in a beautiful
wrought iron Victorian railway station (which should have
been erected in Chile and as a result has never had a train
in it...) and was packed with medical students celebrating
their graduation who were covered in eggs and flour and
were, needless to say, more than a little pedo.
During our meal a scantily clad dancer appeared and gyrated
violently around the market pausing briefly to pose with
Alex Lavarello who clearly enjoyed the whole experience!
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...and Artigas... |
After performing a short conga
(presumably to show them that the Brits have rhythm too
- Ed.) Monty started trying to charm the medical students
as well and it was time to leave.
We went back to the School for our first
training session (under lights) which was accompanied by
frenetic drumming from a nearby building.
The day ended then as we went our separate
ways with our hosts and looked forward to an early night
(yeah, right - Ed.) in preparation for our first
match the next day. |
...and his ashes
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Finally, some training
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Alex in his element
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He never even blinked
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Day 2: Friday 30th July
Montevideo - Ed Colclough |
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After the third and final flight mercifully touched down
in Montevideo our desire to leave the airport was frustrated
by a lack of luggage. One hour and several games of backgammon
later, the news was broken that to us that the baggage was
gathering dust in Madrid. This meant the only clothes we had
were our now crumpled and sweaty travelling kit.
Training was postponed, but after a brief tour of the school
and a bowl of pasta, an impromptu game of rugby broke out between
us and about a hundred 12 year olds. It was easy to see the
quality players in this run around and we asked a few to play
for us tomorrow...They love their rugby at this school; they're
unbeaten for five years and are national champions. |
Waiting for luggage - the intellectuals... |
The highlights of this playground game were Ed Atkin being
swamped with ball in hand by a melee of 11 year olds boys and
Charlie Mercer being dump tackled by something that weighed
the same amount as one of his legs. Alastair Monty didn't play,
he was too busy handing out his phone number and signing autographs
for a posse of 12 year old girls.
After this a very excited class of 12 year
olds asked if they could meet the players and ask them questions.
I'm sure the whole team took the opportunity to practise their
Spanish. |
...the sportsmen... |
| After a pit stop at a local shopping centre
to buy clean undies, we returned to the school and met our
billets. Some
of us caught up on lost sleep that night but others decided
not to turn down generous Uruguyan hospitality staying out
slightly later than term time lights out. We didn't want to
offend our hosts. |
...and Roy and Toby |
Monty sizes up the opposition |
The captain finds an admirer |
Chatting to the locals |
Day 1: Thursday 29th
July
The
Outward Journey - Henry Palmer |
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The 2.30 arrival at Gatwick
allowed the group plenty of time to catch up on holiday
stories, eat too much,
admire Mr Hare's beard and panic over missing passports.
Some of us were worried Mr Nicholas might notice we hadn't
been working out these past few weeks but I think we got
away with it. Looking surprisingly smart we marched down
the terminal an army of
finely tuned athletes ready to conquer some far off land.
What we really needed was a large crowd to help send us off
waving
flags and throwing flowers. Onlookers must have felt the
hairs on the back of their necks stand up in fear - if not
then maybe
just a smile.
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| The first flight, to Madrid, quickly turned
our attitudes from high to low. After a 40 minute delay we
were finally able to squeeze into our seats and for the lucky
few listen to the far too enthusiastic locals. A quick turnover
at Madrid and the team was off to Buenos Aires. The flight
was no different to any other transatlantic journey: rubbish
food, boring films, grumpy stewardesses and oh yeah a mysterious
death in first class! Although it wasn't until we reached
Argentina that we discovered this alarming fact. Early in
the morning the 5 Eds and myself sat in a cafe enjoying a
coffee and the sunrise only to witness an odd shaped black
bag being removed with the luggage. No-one thought twice
until we saw two feet dangling from one end. Reminiscent
of the Hardy boys, we investigated further. Dr Anderson confirmed
our suspicions that middle aged gentleman had died in 1st
class. (Actually the famous 'Is there a doctor on board?'
came over the tannoy in Spanish to which Dr A responded.
His first action on tour was to pronounce his patient 'muerto'
and leg it back to economy before anyone asked any more questions
- Ed) |
Travelling can be fun! |
| Putting the past behind us we embarked on
our final flight to Uruguay. 3 flights, 14 hours in the air,
3 poor films, very little sleep, and one dead businessman
later we touched down in Montevideo. We were pretty fed up
with airports and eager to collect our luggage. However,
whilst the cadaver had made it to South America our luggage
sadly had not. This was bad news for those with no spare
undies... |
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