This was a tour with a difference: it was one on which we didn't have a definite game to play though - as most agreed - who cares, we're on tour.

We left the pub at the usual tour time for the coach ride to Felixstowe. Boarded the ferry for the crossing to Zeebrugge safe in the knowledge that we'd have a memorable crossing as L&Y were also on tour to Paris that weekend; from my own personal experience it certainly was unforgettable.

Arriving in Paris mid-afternoon we togged up for the welcome drink somewhere in the French part of the City. After a glass or two of the best red wine on offer the tourists departed to familiarise themselves with the capital.

To cut a long story short and not to go into every detail the overiding consensus was we were well and truly ripped off!

Five quid a pint and it was the worst ever tasted! Fifteen quid for a plate of rice, hard prawns (aint that right Fordy?), lifted for witnessing a murder (Whitey), some off-duty copper who'd attached himself to the club scrapping in the bar round the corner from the hotel and trying to blame everyone else, etc, etc. Other than that it was a good tour.

At the beer stop outside Zeebrugge we acquired a stowaway from some rugby club who were on tour in Paris the same weekend and, because they'd buggered off with all his gear, money, passport, etc., asked if we could get him back? Mission accomplished!

On the ferry home, Khan claiming Luftwaffe was the name of the German Airline, Lloydie (who was absolutely ratted) who after being convinced that the blonde he was annoying chatting-up would like him even more with his trolleys around his ankles tried it and then, later on, when he'd fallen asleep in one of the plant pots had half his head shaved with a pair of nail clippers!

Ah well, roll-on next year...