The August 2015 august ramble

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August Ramble changes

I had previously said that we would meet next Wednesday at CAFFE NERO in Churchill Square. Now Lafayette has requested, for some reason, that we meet at STARBUCKS. Despite some reservations about this particular institution (because of their failure to pay any corporation tax) I am happy to concede to this request. After all he is The Scribe and I don't want to get a character assassination in the write-up!
So it will be STARBUCKS, OK? STARBUCKS
SB
PS: STARBUCKS!

Joining Instructions for August 2015

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July's Adventure Ramble 2015

NERDS' Ramble No 308. Wed. 15. 7. 15.



Those Present – Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Paco, Matt.



The Burger-van Woman Ramble.



Sandyballs had got a new route for us this month; not a recycled one; not an old boring one but a brand new one which promised to be full of adventure, incident and untapped horizons. The NERDS could hardly wait.



Sandyballs had asked us to meet him in Brighton (BRIGHTON!!!!! Wow! never been there before, Wow!, Kappow!) The fun started straightaway – at the bus stop(s). Froggy had given precise instructions as to which bus the Seaford/ Newhaven chapters should board so that we could all sit together, travel together, wank together and arrive together to make up a seamless meeting with S.B. Except unfortunately...............



Lafayette left his house in good time and moseyed the hundred yards or so up to the bus stop. He had been instructed to get the 09 52 which would carry, Froggy, Matt, and Paco. One bus came ( a bit early) but there was nobody special on it. The next bus came - “Ah, this must be the one,” thought Lafayette, but no grinning faces from the upstairs deck. Lafayette was in despair. “What if it's all an awful plot to sideline me,” he thought. “ What if they're having their ramble somewhere else and they haven't told me.” What if they've gone and found themselves a new Scribe who'll write only nice things about them and they're never going to talk to me again ???”



While Lafayette was indulging in these paranoid delusions he felt a tug at his sleeve. At his side stood Paco who had got off the recently arrived bus and was ever so grateful to see Lafayette.

“They weren't there,” he sobbed. “I thought they'd forgotten me or gone off on a ramble of their own or were fed up with me forgetting the date or thought I looked too scruffy or, or, or......” “Nonsense,” said Lafayette, masterfully yet at the same time with compassion. “I expect it's all our fault really because Froggy is so good at arrangements that it must be we who have cocked up. Let's just get on the next bus.” And so they did.



Arriving in Brighton (My God, the crowds! the milling throngs of young people! The colourful shops! The beggars playing Summertime on pianos in the street! the BUZZ!) Paco and Lafayette knew they had to meet S.B. near Marks at Costa Coffee. And there he was, looking out of the window, biting his finger nails, whispering to himself, “ What if nobody comes? Are they still speaking to me? Maybe the joining instructions were too curt, perhaps they don't like the idea of a new ramble after all, maybe they think my teeth are too crooked, did I look at Froggy too funnily last ramble, maybe he still hasn't forgiven me, Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!”



Masterfully, yet with compassion (again) Lafayette calmed S.B. down and, saying nothing of his own paranoia, went to get Paco a coffee. No sign yet of the others who had been causing us all this Angst, “maybe they've gone off by themselves” a little voice started up again in Lafayette's head. “ Maybe they joined another rambling club.” “ Stop it.. stop it.. stop it!” However, shortly afterwards up rolled Froggy and Matt who had been waiting for twenty minutes in Starbucks round the corner. “Where've you lot been?” shouted Froggy. “ Are you still talking to us, or what? We thought you'd got a better offer; we said to each other I bet those bastards have left us in the lurch and have gone off drinking without us somewhere; we were really, really worried and HURT!”



“Tut, Tut, such childish worrying, “ said Lafayette in a masterful yet compassionate way ( for the third time) “ Do you think we'd leave you two by yourselves? I mean, Matt can't even put his own knickers on by himself, let alone find his way to China, and we all love you anyway cos you're a NERD.” Froggy was eventually mollified and so we got on to discussing the details of the new exciting ramble.



Sandyballs said he was first of all taking us on an exciting bus ride around the exciting parts of Brighton and he hoped we would all be excited at this and not forget to talk to him (occasionally).

We got on the number wotsername bus, and of course, a lively discussion about bus passes took place. I will leave you all to imagine who the initiator was, but I won't go into the details since you've heard all the shit he usually says about this and it's boring anyway.



The bus ride took us round all the posh parts of the Brighton suburbs. We could look into people's windows from the upper deck. These were the parts where the roads were wide and tree-lined; where the houses had big gardens full of flowers and nicely mown lawns and where the au pairs walked the dinky little dogs and where the drug dealers did their business from plush offices – not on street corners, like in Neushaven. Yes, but none of them had a Co-op just down the road like Lafayette did. He wasn't jealous, oh no, no, no. ( Yes he was really).



We got off somewhere at the top of some hill near Falmer by the Asda store. Then promptly got lost. “Which way is the country?” We all thought, “ this is a trading estate.” Froggy began to cry and said he was hungry. Matt said he'd wet his knickers and could somebody change them for him. Just then we spotted a burger van not far down the road. Froggy's blood sugar was playing up so we hurried over to see what sort of scoff they sold.



The van was run by a really nice friendly lady called Kim of Kim@Honeys (or was it Honey@Kims?) anyway she persuaded Matt to change his knickers and told Froggy to stop crying; she would feed us all.

Not only that, she would sing to us too. Now there's a treat. Kim told us all to forget about the wicked lies the government and the medical profession had put out about nasty cholesterol – it simply didn't exist. Her sizzling burgers were something to really get your lips round, she said; and as for her heavenly mushrooms, well, they would send you to the gates of paradise and back. Matt decided he wanted her for his next wife (after Kylie, of course) and so climbed into the van

and insisted on a selfie with her. Then she decided to sing him a lullaby. Kim had a little pot infront of the fryer into which you could put contibutions to encourage her singing. It was er.... tuneful and very beautiful. So much so that her pot was soon filled up with loose change and she was eventually persuaded to stop.



Sometimes out of a situation which is fraught with uncertainty comes direction; sometimes when all seems lost a light is seen in the distance. That burger-van turned out to be the saving of us all. It united us, stopped the paranoia and the petty jealousies, bonded us together and made us feel like proper, strong NERDS again.....even if we did have to put up with some ghastly singing.



On, on. Sandyballs led us out of the concrete jungle of the trading estate up the side of some hill.

Then we crossed over a couple of dodgy roads and lo and behold found ourselves in the countryside.

This was nice, except we had to climb up a long, long hill. Still, fired up with all that cholesterol that Kim had shovelled into us,

and with her pop songs still ringing in our ears, we finally made it to the top.



We passed a Freemasons Lodge house and narrowly stopped Froggy from baring his breast and flaunting his nipples at them.

(Be aware that NERDS have slightly different initiation ceremonies involving chips, clothes pegs, girlies (No!, no girlies) and calvados, but no nipples). Then we plodded off through lots of woody paths over the Downs and down towards Falmer. The weather was grey and stinking humid; fortunately the overhanging trees in the woods afforded some relief from the oppressive heat.



We walked what seemed like miles and miles. The paths, however, were broad and shaded and we talked and bonded and finally got rid of our paranoia towards each other. ( I lie of course, but it was a sort of feelgood afternoon). Finally we descended into Stanmer Park and bought an icecream in Stanmer village before heading towards Stanmer Hall.



This place just oozed CLASS. We'd been here a few times before but that didn't matter, - the walk was different, the final setting classy. Suits of armour, posh paintings, books even, and a nice bar with a jovial Geordie in charge. We sat outside and drank cider.

Lafayette wasn't allowed any – look what happened last time. He had to drink beer.

The waitress girlies were all dressed in black and spoke nicely. The place reeked of Good Taste. Even Sandyballs could smell the money. People were celebrating their offspring's graduation nearby. “ Oh, Jemimah deah, I hear you got a lovely third ; we'll have to renew your string of ponies when we get back to Surrey.” and “Fwedewick, I gather you're captain of Wugger now. Good Show, next stop the City, eh?”



The NERDS basked in their own appalling ordinariness and were glad their parents had not been like that. They had a nice meal

at a nice table with a nice waitress called Maria. At least that's what Matt called her since he knows how to coax the names out of unwary females (look at how he charmed Kim, the opera singer).

(Actually, Maria was really called Hannah although Sandyballs fell for this trick and called her by her NERD – name by mistake. Oh, didn't Matt laugh, cruel boy!



We lounged on couches

for ages and ages in the annex next to the suit of armour with the Darth Vader mask, and drank more stuff, but no calva because they'd run out so it had to be Hennessy - quel dommage! Then reluctantly we had to leave this Joanna Lumley sort of place

and go back to where we had come from that morning; back into the real world.



It had been an interesting new ramble, and thanks to S.B.

for finding an old “Walks of Sussex” down the back of his sofa.

Fry-up Lady Kim

with her melodic voice had been the high point of the day, although the way we all finally managed to get together that morning had taken some damn good organising, so well done to Froggy

as well.



Next ramble in August some time. Perhaps it'll be another new one too!



Love to all.

Lafayette.

July Joining Instructions

This month we ramble on Wednesday 15th. A bit of a of departure this month. There will be, believe it or not, A BRAND NEW RAMBLE!! Yes no more endless reruns of old favourites! At least not for this month.
You will however be familiar with the lunchtime destination - the upmarket Stanmer House. So please wear your best rambling gear. Although I don't think that The Admiral, if he is joining us, will need his DJ and cumberbund.

Also, you will need your BUS PASS for this ramble. Hooray! I hear (nearly) all cry. I will be getting to Churchill Sqare ( where we change buses) at about 10.30. I suggest that those living in the Seaford/ Newhaven conurbation make their own arrangements to catch the No 12 bus. We could all meet up at the coffee shop near to M&S (Costa?) 10.30-ish.

Looking forward to your attendance and enthusiasm.

Sandyballs

July's Ramble date

Hi All,

For anyone not aware, the ramble this month is on WEDNESDAY 15th. Joining instructions, as ever, to follow!

Sandyballs

June Ramble 2015

NERDS Ramble No. 307. Tues. 16th June 2015.

Those Present – Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Matt, Curly Clarke, The Bish, The Captain.

The Ramble when Lafayette got very, very, very pissed.

Sandyballs was proposing a killer ramble this month. One which started off in the country side but then involved a huge hill, nay escarpment up to the top of the Downs. We had all done this in times past – it had almost killed The Bish last time and he was now not only older but prepared to give it another go.

Most NERDS met on the train from Seaford where The Captain was having a go at poor Matt for his diabolical fashion sense (ie. stripy shorts and a jazzy shirt) and because Captain had seen a flyer advertising “Purcell's Faerie Queen” he thought this might be Matt doing a burlesque turn as part of the Brighton Festival.
Dear Matt was concerned that the general public might think the Captain had been employed as his fashion advisor and/or theatrical agent so hastened to distance himself from any such suggestion.

Sandyballs met us at Lewes. He knew the walk was going to be an absolute bastard so he had packed a defibrillator and a couple of body bags - just in case. Froggy had been campaigning on line for the last week or so to get the route changed or modified; he didn't think he could heave his not inconsiderable bulk up the hill from The Half Moon but Sandyballs was adamant; we were going to do the climb if it killed us all. Such sympathy, such tyranny! He'd managed to persuade Curly that if he got to the top, czech babe Kylie (aka Veronica) would be there waiting for him. Such wild expectation, such naivety!

Anyway, we de-trained at Plumpton,

a very pleasant station set in the relative silence of the countryside where the sun was shining, the insects murmuring, the birds tweeting etc.

You know the sort of thing. We wandered through the lanes enjoying the calm of the day passing a typical Sussex pub “The Paedophile” Children Welcome, said the notice, but nobody thought it was a good idea to stop there.

Eventually we went through Plumpton College

where lots of posh girlies were grooming lots of posh ponies, and where young lads were pretending to study agriculture and be farmers. Most of them, however, were lolling around drinking beer and trying to cop off with the posh birds with ponies. College life, ah, plus ca change.........Somewhere along the way we met a real farmer in a real landrover with whom Lafayette had a long, interesting conversation about the best way to slaughter grey squirrels, magpies and other vermin. Lafayette's new friend reckoned the best way of dealing with seagulls was either to use a Khalashnikov assault rifle or else dynamite in extreme cases. Lafayette wondered what sort of training and field trips they gave at Plumpton college and whether they might take him on as a mature student gamekeeper. Throw in a few posh birds with posh ponies and lots of beer.......Nah, Lafayette had never been known to fantasise too much.

Soon we arrived at the Half Moon pub. Sandy balls had chosen a table in the semi shade, and with a commendable degree of foresight had brought with him a bottle of wine and some picnic glasses

so that we could have an aperitif before the pub actually opened for business. Everyone drank and said how they were scared of having to go up the escarpment. The Captain tried to persuade everyone to vote UKIP and leave Europe. The Bish and others told him to fuck off, reminded him the UK's borders were a shambles now and pointed out how it might be a bit difficult to re-start examining French onion sellers and Italian waiters when we couldn't even stop the Nigerian forgers and the Colombian drug smugglers from overrunning our fair land.

Fortunately just as positions were beginning to get a bit entrenched the pub opened and our thoughts turned to other matters.

Now The Half Moon had always been a good place if a bit expensive. You could tell the usual clientele from the dead fox which was nailed to the wall just by the gents. However the place had suddenly got very professional. No longer could you just go up to the bar to get a drink then return a few minutes later to order a meal. Now there were teams of young women (colleges and schools were breaking up) who “took charge of your table” and the clientele thereon, to make sure your orders and money were processed in a quick and efficient fashion.

No complaints here then. We had to allow Matt to change table at least once because he didn't like the view or was scared of getting skin cancer in the sun, but thereafter we were waited on hand and foot by “ our waitress” Katrina

who gave very good service and was (somewhat disappointingly ) English. (Where had all the dirty Czech and Roumanian babes gone? Where was Kylie?). Anyway the dinner was good, the sun was shining and even Matt seemed disinclined to make his usual fuss over the number of chips doled out etc.

Unfortunately this was when Lafayette started to have problems. He didn't mean to, and in time honoured Froggy fashion It wasn't his fault. You see, the day previously Lafayette had had a tooth removed. He had gallantly put up with this surgery so that his family could once again have a happy, smiling paterfamilias who would not be grumpy at them because he had toothache. Unfortunately, the downside to this was that Lafayette couldn't eat much. (big bleeding holes in your head persuade you that toast and crisps are off limits) So Lafayette consumed a mouthful or two of soup

only and a few mashed up strawberries for afters; but then discovered that a particular sort of cider was extremely nice and had amazingly anaesthetic and palliative qualities. Four pints later he was completely rat-arsed. Nobody noticed this at the time, least of all Lafayette. Notes tail off at this point but Lafayette recalls floating up the escarpment

as if he had drunk a gallon of Red Bull (Wings and stuff), then feeling rather tired and lying down to have a little snooze.

Froggy's photos will bear out the fact that for a lot of the time after lunch Lafayette was completely out of it. The NERDS had a bit of difficulty getting him to his feet - I mean, It was nice lying there in the sun

dreaming about fairies and icecream

and girlies with big......... but finally he was hauled upright and propelled down the long hill towards Lewes. Lafayette remembers it was a long way down these paths, that Froggy took care of him the same way he looks after Bronco (and other needy lunatics) and that he ended up in the Black Horse drinking lots of coffee.

It was not a fit of drunkenness which would probably go down as notorious in the annals of the NERDS; Lafayette didn't kill anybody or throw himself over a cliff. It really wasn't as funny as watching Philby, hopelessly drunk, trying to make headway with the girl of the ferry with the corkscrew hair, or the time when Lafayette himself had to prop up Sandyballs against the door of The Select and then manoeuvre him into the hallway whereupon Sandyballs promptly fell flat on his face over a very surprised Neron ( large hound). No, it was just a little abberation

which emphasised that if you're going to drink, eat something as well!

And so (allegedly) ended the Ramble no. 307. Thanks go to Sandyballs

for bringing all the supplies to the pub and allowing us to visit Plumpton once again. Thanks to The Captain and the Bish for giving us an entertaining political discussion, and thanks to Froggy for his pastoral care of Lafayette when the latter was a little indisposed.

Don't forget Andy Maskell's do at The Crown in Turners Hill on Monday 13th July where you can meet all the Gatwick Escapees and reminisce on how pleasant it was when you were persecuting French onion sellers and Italian waiters in the Good Old Days.

See you there.

Lafayette.

May's Prague Ramble

NERDS' Ramble No. 300. 12^th- 15^th May 2015.

Those Present – Sandyballs, Lafayette, Matt, Froggy, Paco, Curly Clarke, The Bish.

PRAGUE !!!

NERDS' 300^th Ramble! Who'd have thought it. Still all together and never a cross word spoken (except for rambles 84, 91, 104, 214, 277 etc etc etc............). People have come and gone - notably Jane (requiescat in pace), Philby (requiescat sub terra), B T (requiescat in Francia), not to mention drifters like The Captain who only comes at Christmas, Bronco who only comes over Crunchie, Dio, Matrix Man, who comes dressed in leather purely to excite Matt, Shaz, our occasional girlie who comes to excite us all, and many others who have graced us with their presence.

And that's not all. Look at all the other places the NERDS have been to in the last er...... twenty seven years or so.  Sussex...yeah, well...... Broseley, Dieppe, Fougax et Barrineuf, (where the f....?

Oh, yes, Brian's), Dublin, Villa Rosa (!), Louvain, and so on and so on. The NERDS has been an organisation founded to foster harmony and goodwill amongst its members ( hopelessly failed) and to increase their cultural knowledge and travel aspirations, but ended up with their going to foreign places, getting completely arseholed and quarreling in strange bars. And so to Prague - plus ca change.......

On day one dear, kind Pacito picked up everyone ( well, nearly everyone, as the Bish  had seemed determined to be different and stood outside someone else's house and nearly got left behind), and drove them to Gatwick. I shall leave aside the usual shenigans  which take place and which happen to the NERDS at major  airports. You know, the bits where Sandyballs over-eats in Wetherspoons and feels sick, where Froggy loses his boarding pass and throws a tantrum, where Lafayette gets frisked and all his knives and revolvers fall on the floor and he gets put in handcuffs and carted away. Thankfully none of these things happened (this time) and everybody took off and landed safely at Joseph Stalin International, Praha.

First off we had to find The Archibald City Hotel (who he?)

so the NERDS trailed around what was allegedly the red light district

 looking for this and hoping to see some exotic ladies of the night en route. Unfortunately it was no longer night time and the girlie pros were probably at home sleeping off their nocturnal endeavours.

( Just a thought, do les grandes horizontales sleep standing up vertically as a change, or do they just kip down lengthwise like everyone else? Cos if they do that then they must never get up, do they? What about when they wanted to brush their teeth, for example, did they do this on their backs while shagging or what? Lafayette thought this might be a good basis for doing research into his next doctorate if only he could get sponsorship from somewhere).

We were quite surprised at the weather in Prague. The forecast from the UK had foretold rain, wind and miserable conditions, and the NERDS had all come as if dressed for December. In fact it was warm and sunny

 and we were getting exhausted dragging our suitcases around. Nor were there any horizontal girlies around who might have been paid to do this onerous task for us. Eventually we found the hotel which was pleasant, modern, clean and with a charming receptionist called Katerina. Katerina told us she played hockey (this being ice hockey, and we found that every telly in Prague was showing some match or other. Then we found out it was actually The World Ice Hockey Championships that week in Prague and Czecho were in a critical phase of having to play the Finns to get into the semis) – they didn't seem to play much cricket here much to Sandyballs' chagrin. There were, strangely enough, a lot of Finns wandering around looking bleary eyed and pissed. Maybe there's a Finnish NERDS branch in Helsinki, hey there's an idea for the next trip!

So out we went to find a bar and have a beer. Well you didn't think we were going to stay in all afternoon and read Proust, did you?

A couple of streets away we found an outside watering hole which seemed to be serving aperitifs.

These were, like, mega glasses of czech beer which, according to the menu were about 20% strength. “That'll do,” we all thought. And guess what, the waitress was just Sandyballs' type, petite, blonde, superficially attractive and with a startling resemblance to Kylie Minogue. And so, of course, the place became known ever after as “Kylie's Bar.” If only the poor girl knew what wicked thoughts Sandyballs harboured about her in his addled brain those steamy three days!

Next, and suitably well oiled, the NERDS went down to the city centre and looked at the shops. 

There were ice cream shops (good for Lafayette)

, pipe shops, (?) watch shops and trams. The Bish seemed to have developed a certain sense of direction so he was made NERDS' Navigator

 and got us on and off trams and metros going in roughly the right direction. Good job somebody could!

At teatime we adjourned to The Sky bar. This was an open air bar situated on the top storey of the hotel

 where you could drink beer (surprise, surprise), sit on comfy chairs, get sun tanned (yes, really)

.

, and where another czech maiden with a passion for ice hockey would lend you binoculars so that you could look out over the whole of Prague.

 The view was fantastic; you were so high up you could see everything – the weirdo mediaeval spires of the churches,

 the round mosques (or synagogues), the extensive parks,

The green forests in the distance, the amazing architecture of the old houses,

 the people wandering around in all their different nationalities, the witches flying around on their broomsticks and all this in really hot sunshine. It was truly amazing.

 Just then Froggy rocked up and completely destroyed the calm atmosphere by accusing Lafayette of hogging the best chairs, drinking the best drinks, using the best binoculars and breathing the same air. “ Fuck off, “ said Lafayette, “ I like it here and if you don't, then take the whip and go get drunk somewhere else.” Froggy eventually calmed down a bit and started taking pictures with his NEW camera – except for some reason he couldn't turn it on, focus it, get it to speak to him or take pictures. Cue another tantrum while he blamed the camera company for ripping him off by selling him a duff camera...dear, dear, dear........

Matt knew about some fabulous restaurant somewhere, that involved a ride up a hill on a funicular railway

. Now these things are fun in so far as you wait for ages at the bottom of the hill, then you cram on board with lots of fit, young students (who offer you their seat if you are as old looking as Lafayette), then you travel about 100metres, like, upwards and then you get out near your restaurant. ie. You don't have to tramp up a load of boring steps

 and you arrive fresh and hungry. The restaurant was called Nebozizek which means “Oral Sex” in czech and goes some way to explain why it was full of japanese business men all sitting round their tables naked from the waist downwards, making a lot of noise and generally having a good time.

The food there was excellent and the waiter kept bringing on the carafes of rouge. The view over Prague from this high up was again spectacular but poor Froggy moaned that he had been forced by some communist conspiracy into sitting with his back to the view, and that his NEW camera wasn't working here either. Thankfully the japanese finally left with smiles on their faces and Froggy's camera reluctantly gave up its secrets to produce some quite reasonable photies. On the way home various NERDS still felt thirsty so popped into the local offie where Froggy bought a mega bottle of Jamesons and had a small party in his room with SB, Laf and Curly to celebrate his NEW camera beginning to work properly

.

Next morning while Froggy was sampling the beans at breakfast and pronouncing them of a satisfactory standard, Sandyballs went in search of the Bish who had failed to appear (again) and who, it was feared, might have died in the night due to his advanced age.

The Bish had not died however; apparently his delay at breakfast was caused by dropping his false teeth into the lavatory while wiping his arse (as you do) and having to fish around for them before he dared flush the bog. Bish appeared with the shit scrubbed off his gleaming teeth and prepared once again to navigate us to the beginning of the walk round Prague for the second day.

Curly was actually Route Meister

 for that day because he had a rough idea where to take us and he could read a map. First he took us round the Old Town where we spent time gazing at russian dolls; you know, the ones that fit inside each other (especially when they've had a drink or two). Then we went to The Old Town Square where we had a beer and gawped at the Prague Clock

. This was a rather magical device

 which, whenever it struck twelve, unleashed scores of fairies from its baroque interior who descended into the crowd of tourists and picked all the change from their pockets. You can now see how the Prague town council funds all the superb amenities it lavishes on its those who come to visit.

Lafayette was fascinated by a noisy band performing in the square under the name of “The Bohemian Bards”. They looked like a load of fierce Hells Angels (without their bikes). There were three or four

 of them dressed in black (of course) in presumably ethnic bohemian costume of chains, curly toed boots, long skirts(!) and weirdo instruments. Soft english folk music it was not, principally because their main instrument was a sort of bagpipe with four foot long pipe the music of which reminded  one of  The Ladies from Hell advancing on the Germans  with murderous intent during The First World War. The Bohemians attempted to modify this racket with the judicious use of a lute and a tambourine, but these were drowned out by the caterwauling in some bohemian dialect of the members of the band. Lafayette was approached by a young bohemian lady who tried to sell him a CD of this “music” but he politely declined.

The NERDS then had a Biergarden lunch – olive oil and bread,

 and beef and dumplings, and proceeded to Prague castle. This, of course was impressive and reminded one of Colditz, especially the large well in the courtyard into which they used to chuck their spare witches in The Olden Days before asylum and appeals had been invented. Froggy managed to take a picture of a) his fingernail and b) the edge of a bridge. Today the technology was defeating him, must have been the influence of last night's Jamesons and all the czech beer that we were consuming.

Back for a snooze and a quick trip to the Sky bar

 to top up our tans and to make sure that the Finns hadn't bagged our seats by putting their towels on them ( The Czech/Finn hockey game was still to be played).  Then we all regrouped to go out to find any old restaurant which sold czech food and wine.

After a lot of faffing about on trams we arrived in the vicinity of the Lord Charles Bridge

 where we went in a pleasant looking restaurant. You would have thought that its combination of sophistication and rustic interior should have appealed to all. Fat chance. First of all the waiter wore a bow tie – always a sign of some sort of personality disorder – then the beautiful moravian wine which Lafayette ordered “didn't taste nice,” according to the moron NERDS who were too drunk to taste anything but peppermint cordial.

Then The Bish broke a glass which was considered an ominous sign of bad luck, especially before a meal, and especially by a Bishop. Mr Bow-tie failed to open a second bottle of wine, Froggy tried to help him but brought to the table the same skills he had shown with his camera. When the wine was finally open and dished up it contained sludgy lees at the bottom of the bottle (doesn't all sophisticated wine?), and the meal seemed to be to no-one's satisfaction except Lafayette's.

Sandyballs was heard to bellow, “I didn't get where I am today by coming to Prague and eating czech food!” Lafayette pointedly told him that was exactly why he had come to Prague to which Sandyballs accused Lafayette of  having no taste and being willing to eat anything that was put infront of him (This might be completely true but Lafayette was so so hurt that SB had revealed one of his deepest secrets).

Hee, hee, the quarrel raged on in the true tradition of NERDS' quarrels born out of tiredness, drink, jealousy, frustration etc. etc.

Lafayette had indeed drunk so much that he really didn't give a toss what he ate as long as he filled his face, and Sandyballs was obviously going through one of his awkward moods where nothing could please him. It was now Dog eat Dog and the pack closed in on Lafayette blaming him alone for the poor standard of service, the bad food, the poofy waiter, how all czech girls were ugly, and another thing......etc. Lafayette responded by waiting till no-one was looking and hoovered up all the food left on everyone's plate. The Bish missed a chance there; he could have got almost limitless extra food if he had sided with Laf. and pulled the same trick.

Utterly exhausted by all this passion the NERDS repaired to another nearby bar to sober up (!!) and calm down. Paco shakily brought out an emergency cigar he had been keeping to calm his stressed nerves and we all resolved to go back to Kylie's for a night cap because she had the ability to make everyone think of love and sex and kisses and comforting stuff like that. (Notes don't record if Kylie was there this time, but I expect she was, although nobody got anywhere with the love and sex and kisses.)

It was next day. Matt wanted to buy a painting. You know how  rich people have a problem knowing what to do with their money and so they collect things, hide them away, get them out, fondle them and then lock them away so that no-one even knows? Well Matt's big secret was that he was an avid collector of erotic art.

Thought you hadn't seen the Venus de Milo recently? It's in Matt's back room. Missing the many copies of David from outside the Uffizi? The original's in Matt's attic. Then there's that somewhat overblown Botticelli Venus emerging from the waves. Guess where that is. Yep, it's under Matt's bed for those private moments when he's alone and needs the presence of a beautiful woman.

And so, something in Prague had taken his eye. We were taken to a little known street market

 where everyone spoke out of the corner of their mouth, and where large bundles of cash were wont to change hands for priceless and often smuggled artefacts. Matt slipped round a side stall, looking left and right to ensure the Antiquities Squad were not around. After the previous evening's dog eat dog episode Matt wasn't even sure that none of the NERDS was not wired and prepared to betray him for cash or drink.

The object of his searches, nay the object of his lust, was a small painting of a young couple doing indescribable things to each other, and which had allegedly been painted by the little known swedish artist Lars Wankingssen during the febrile fin de siecle movement known as Masturism. Matt found a little old woman, the secret dealer, and in a trice the deal was done. Many millions of euros were handed over, a selfie of Matt and the dealer was taken for security reasons and the painting was cut from its frame and rolled into a tube to be smuggled into the UK via Easyjet. Now Matt would no longer go on cruises, no longer would he come on rambles; his whole future would now be taken up with slyly taking out and viewing his new treasure, and getting personal and often eruptive  pleasure from knowing he had the only one.

The rest of us bought a few trinkets, The Bish bought a hat, Paco bought a packet of cigars and a teeshirt with “Prague” on it.  We went to a nearby cafe and drank stuff. Froggy moaned about their being too much froth on his dark beer. Matt complained that he'd only been given one teabag in his pot of tea, Lafayette and Sandyballs sat looking in different directions, pointedly not speaking to each other. The drama of the morning had dissipated, things were back to normal.

Lunch was noodles (for Laf) followed by a river trip along the River er..... whatever it is in Prague. (Vitara, I'm told). This was nice. We glid

under bridges

with commentaries in most european languages and with yet another keen czech girlie who brought us drinks. “But, only one each, you naughty english gentlemen,” she breathed heavily. “I know Vot you are like after two or three, you just can't get your singies up.”

 (Was it she who said this or was it some other czech female in a different place? Lafayette's memory was beginning to fail. So many czech girls, so little time.)

We wandered round a park

which was full of grass and very green and had lots of big tents set up in the centre. What was this?  Maybe they sell beer or something. Indeed they were going to. It was apparently some mega beer festival covering acres and acres of ground, which was due to go on for about a fortnight and where you could buy a season ticket for an extortionate sum. We examined our finances and declined. After all we were going home tomorrow (sob) and had lots of cultural things to do.

 Outside the park Sandyballs took us to the Dancing House (yes, really, although we thought our perception of this may have been influenced by a surfeit of absinthe). We were now in the Prague rush hour and getting almost run down on the pavement by segue scooters

(bloody teenagers) so thought we'd comfort ourselves by going back to see which one of us Kylie had decided to marry.

Fortunately she was there that day but told us that in fact her name was Veronica (how dull) and that she had no intention of marrying anybody  since we were all too old and ugly, except perhaps the one with nice curly hair or the one who was obviously rich and was a famous art dealer.

With most of our delusions shattered we decided on a slap up dinner since it was our last night. This involved an incredible amount of titting about, of indecision, of hesitation, because nobody wanted to actually have to choose the restaurant and be accused of spoiling everybody's evening through lack of judgement. Finally we decided on a reasonable looking italian restaurant

 (so that nobody would be forced to eat any more nasty, czech food). Unfortunately, however, the waiter this time was not over familiar, incompetent, or economical with the cost of the bill. He was, in short, plain and simply an Arsenal Fan. Ho, ho, thought Lafayette; one in the eye for Sandyballs (Tottenham fan). Sandyballs just put his head in his hands and groaned. If the restaurant had even just sold Greene King beer things could not have been worse. Still the meal was OK and the wine

 had no sludge in it so most of the NERDS were happy.

So back fo a final drink of Jamesons in the dark at the top of the Skybar. Lafayette went to get refills of beer from the binocular girl and found her dancing in the corridor with her boyfriend (another waiter and future trainee Arsenal fan). They were both very happy, she told Lafayette, not because they had just got engaged, oh, no, no, no, but because Czecho had finally beaten Finland in the ice hockey and were through to the semis next week. Who said sex isn't dead amongst young people. On returning to the fold with this breath-taking news Lafayette was treated to a violent strop from Froggy either because he had been secretly supporting Finland all the time or else because the bottle of Jamesons was empty.

And so next day we travelled home. It had been a good trip full of culture, excitement, quarrels, tantrums and strops. Fairly average really for a NERDS trip of more than one day. Prague was a really interesting place to visit and a fitting venue for the ….ahem three hundredth ramble. Thanks must go to Froggy

 for picking the really good hotel, to Paco

 for driving everyone to the airport and back and to Curly

 and Sandyballs

 for the routes. Thanks go to everyone else for their entertainment value and we look forward to going to Helsinki for the return ice hockey match.

Love you all, really.

Lafayette.