Saturday 4th December 1999

Eryl: "The flight that Keith and I were taking to Barcelona left from Luton at 07:00, so that meant a really early start. However, at that hour of the morning there should be virtually no traffic on the road, so 1 1/2 hours to get from Kingston to Luton airport seemed to be allowing plenty of time.

I made my way around the M25, only to find the junction for the M1 North closed, so I headed back to the M40 and went cross-country. I later found that I could not have chosen a worse alternative route to the airport!

Despite seeing what seemed like most of the English countryside, albeit in darkness, I managed to get to the airport just in time to meet Keith, before boarding the plane. We hadn't really spoken much to each other previously, but the flight gave us plenty of time to get to know each other, and I found out where Underwater Hockey lies in the grand scheme of sport around the world, and also the quagmire of organisation and administration of sport in general."

Back in Barcelona: Destination "Piscine Club Natacio Catalunya", the first of the two pools to be used in the tournament. David, Gemma and Eva of the Barcelona team picked us up from the hostel, and Eva and Gemma took the humans on the Metro, while David took the kit bags in his car. However, despite this punctual start, for one reason or another the tournament didn't get going until nearly ten o'clock, an hour and a half after we were supposed to be playing in the first game! To try to get back on track, the games were immediately cut from 15 minutes each way to 12 minutes each way.

However, saving only six minutes in every half-hour would require more time than we had left in the day to make up the lost hour and a half, and the organisers were naturally unwilling to cut any more off the games, so something else had to go. The reception and lunch got the bullet.

Once our game was over, Martin set about tracking down Eryl and Keith to make sure that they would be able to meet up with us. However, despite having phoned Keith the previous night to give him the amended pool details, we were still not 100% sure whether or not the second pool was Piscine Sant Jordi or the pool in the Olympic Village at Palau Sant Jordi, as each member of the organising team that we asked seemed to contradict what the previous person had said. Sometimes it was Palau Sant Jordi, sometimes it was Piscine Sant Jordi . . . it all got very confusing.

However, there was a possible worst case scenario looming, as the game was had just played was the only one that we would be playing at the Club Natacio Catalunya. From there it was on to "lunch of our own making", and from there to the second pool, whichever one it might be, so the chances of being able to successfully meet up with Keith and Eryl were looking ever-slimmer, as they no longer had any real reference points at which to meet up with the rest of us. Somehow we needed to get a message to them.

One one thing that was clear, in the midst of all of this, was that the rest of the team needed fresh air. Clare told Martin that they were going out for a walk in the Gaudí park (Parc Güell) just up the road, and that they would meet him later at the second pool. By this time, the second pool had been ascertained as categorically the Olympic pool, so the parties arranged to meet there in two hours time.

Five minutes later, the goalposts had changed again: no, it was not the Olympic pool at Palau Sant Jordi, it was the Piscine Sant Jordi at the Industrial College. Doh! This was in itself not too much of a problem, because the Park Crew would always be able to find out the correct location when they got back to the pool (or so Martin thought). Top priority was to get in touch with Keith and Eryl.

A phone call was made to easyJet's desk at Barcelona airport, who confirmed that flight EZY307 had landed on time at 10:15, and as this was now more than two hours ago, it was reasonable to expect that Keith and Eryl should have been there by now. Moreover, Laurent, the main man of the Barcelona team, whose mobile phone number Keith and Eryl had, had not received any phone calls.

A phone call was then made to Keith's mobile, but it just rang and rang, with no answer. A phone call was then made to Keith's home number, but only the answerphone answered, no Zoe.

By this time, things were starting to wrap up at the Piscine Club Natacio Catalunya, and it was clear that the potential for things to go horribly wrong was increasingly rapidly, so Martin decided to leave a message for the Park Crew that it was now definitely not Palau Sant Jordi, and go out to look for Eryl & Keith.

Eryl & Keith: "We made it to the appointed rendezvous point for lunch with loads of time to spare, but the train journey would have been easier if there were more maps around. However, the undergound is very straightforward.

Lunch and the grand opening were being held at 12:30 at a large Nautical Exhibition and we were worried we weren't in a prominent enough position near the main entrance. 12:30 came and went and we soon started to get worried. Had we covered all the entrances? Were we supposed to meet inside? Keith paid to get in and scouted around, reporting back every so often.

The Nautic Saloon was a vast complex, with large exhibition halls containing the whole range of nautical leisure activities. There were several eating places and another entrance, but no people with hockey bags anywhere to be seen. We made the most of a bad job and each took turns to look around, while the other stood in a prominent position with our bags.

There were the obligatory gin palaces, dive boats, all sizes of sailing boats, engines, sails, clothes - everything you could possibly think of, including a number of diving equipment stands which were of particular interest to us. There was a water-filled tank for demonstrating the equipment, and - in a large part of one floor - even a canoeing lake!"

The "Park Crew": "After our first, only and delayed match of Saturday morning, there was a bit of confusion about what to do in the four-hour break between matches. "Fresh air", said Clare. The Gaudí park (Parc Güell) was only a short walk away, so after much deliberation and delay(!) the late decision was made to go for a walk. The park was fantastic; everyone - Paul, Stephanie, Clare, Steve, Ki and Anton - enjoyed it, even when the telescope swallowed Anton's Cien Pesetas without giving him the view he was promised in return. And everyone had a stroke of the lizard!"

Clare, Stephanie, Steve & Anton with "El Drac"

Stephanie under the organic-looking arches

It takes a lot to impress Ki . . .

Martin: "Miguel of the Barcelona team very kindly offered to drive me into the city, so we spent a couple of minutes plotting the most efficient route around the city that would take in the likely points at which we might find Eryl and Keith, and then set off. At least, having phoned Keith the previous night to tell him the correct location of the second pool, the one place they would not be is the Olympic Village, but we decided to check there anyway, just to make sure. Also, the Park Crew would have got the message left for them at the first pool, so would now know not to go to the Olympic Complex, so things were probably working out OK."

Eryl & Keith: "Although we had received conflicting information and directions, we thought we knew where the pool was for the afternoon's matches. The Exhibition and the Nautic Saloon were just about within walking distance of the Olympic Village at Palau Sant Jordi, so it all seemed to fall into place."

Martin: "Miguel and I arrived first at Piscine Sant Jordi (the correct second pool), but the receptionists told us that no English visitors had been received that morning, so that narrowed the search. After a stop at a greengrocer's to buy a team's-worth of bananas, we arrived at the Nautic Saloon to find it a teeming mass of people, but no Eryl and no Keith. Moreover, we discovered that they would have had to pay to get in, so it wasn't very likely that they were there. Last stop: the Olympic Village.

We arrived at the Olympic Village to again find no sign of Eryl and Keith. Once again, the receptionist said that there had been no English visitors that morning, so, mystified, we returned to Piscine Sant Jordi to wait for the arrival of the others."

Eryl & Keith: "The stroll towards the Olympic Village slowly became a trek - round and round, lugging our bags on our shoulders, trying desperately to find the place, a signpost or somebody that knew where it was."

Back at the first pool: With everyone else gone, Michelle, Andy and Helga got a lift with David down to the second pool, where we found a nearby restaurant and stopped for lunch. With the exception of a small confusion over Helga's coffee, all went pretty smoothly.

Eryl & Keith: "We eventually found the Olympic Stadium and attempted to find the pool. With kit bags over our shoulders, we walked all the way around the indoor athletics track, outdoor athletics track, sailing pool, stadium - about 1 1/2 miles in total. Fifty yards from the start point, in the opposite direction, we found the pool, and the Park Crew, who have also gone to the wrong place! United at last, both with the team and with our club mascot, Stephanie. It may have been the wrong pool, but we were in the right place! This wasn't just some big trick to get us out of the UK and spend loads of money . . ."

Anton: "The Park Crew arrives at the Stadio Olimpico to find the pool shut, and no sign of any Hoquei Subacquàtic tournament. However, we do find Eryl and Keith . . ."

Clare: "There are three million people in Barcelona, and we - who had all been on wild goose chases - miraculously managed to find each other. The million-to-one shot paid off . . . This was to Octopush what Dali (one of Catalonia's favourite sons) is to the art world . . . utterly surreal."

All jump back into the cabs and head for Piscine Sant Jordi ... the other one ...

Martin: "Miguel and I got back to Piscine Sant Jordi to find that there has still been no sign of any of the other players. However, one other sign did provide a significant explanation as to why there had been such confusion over pools: next to the pool's reception there was now a sign in Catalan saying "Olympic pool closed", and a few questions elicited the information that this "Piscine Sant Jordi" had also been used for the swimming events in the 1992 Olympics. In essence, not only could both pools be described as "the Sant Jordi pool", but both could also be described as Olympic swimming pools. It clarified a little of the theory behind the confusion, but didn't help with the problem of the missing team.

Group by group, the Barcelona team and the other teams arrive. Ten or fifteen minutes later, Andy, Michelle and Helga arrive, so at least we are now two players. The first game, between Slovenia and Barcelona, gets underway. We are in the second game and still have only two players: Martin is starting to panic.

Fifteen minutes later, the first game has changed ends, and there is still just Martin and Andy to hold the TDC fort. Martin is having visions of the two of them sitting on the tin like a wounded wildebeest, trying to fend off a whole team of hyenas snapping at them from every direction. However, at that moment, two taxis screech to a halt outside, and out pile the rest of the team, including Keith and Eryl, who had been found en-route wandering around the middle of the city looking lost."

Anton: "Arriving at 13.58 - with the game due to start at 14.00 the team knew things were tight. Martin was fraught, but being the super heroes that they are, they pulled it off and won! I wonder if 'Barcelona' means 'confusion city' in Catalan?"

Martin: "We sprinted into the changing rooms, did the fastest-ever change and were out on the poolside with a good few minutes to spare. We found a home on the window side and spread our stuff out, mindful of a rather dodgy-looking gap between the bottom of the windows and the poolside out of which a flow of air was gently wafting. It just gave the impression being a long way down. Mind out for the gap, everyone, someone might lose something down there . . ."

An action shot from our round- robin game against Toulouse

Just as she was about to get into the water, Clare discovered that she no longer had her fins - presumably left at the first pool - and this potentially posed a big problem: from where was she going to get another pair of size 8 fins? However, as luck would have it, Helga was an Underwater Rugby player, and not only had she brought her kit with her, but she had the same size of feet as Clare. Problem solved! We started off against Toulouse: Keith: "We were there nice and fresh and we didn't know this was a good team, so we did alright." Clare: "Some found this one of the best games. A fast team, youthful fitness, and our mixed bag were beginning to act as a supportive team."

Against Barcelona:
Clare: "We started to get our act together, and were impressed with the fast young Barcolonese. They're a good young team who showed a lot of potential"

Martin: "After drawing our game with Slovenia in the morning, we then won our two games in the afternoon against Toulouse and Barcelona. Slovenia lost to Barcelona, so - notwithstanding our remaining round robin game against Marseille to be played first thing the next morning - we were in first place. Hurrah!"

We started to gather our things together to go and get changed when Martin realized that he couldn't find his glasses. There was lots of kit everywhere, together with lots of T-shirts that we hadn't yet started to distribute, but no glasses. Or more accurately, no glasses and a very ominous-looking ventilation shaft . . . aarghhh!

The pool handyman was duly enlisted, and Martin spent a few minutes biting his nails at the prospect of spending the next four days in one of the most fabulous cities in the world and not being able to see any of it! Fortunately, the man knew his pool, and the glasses were duly found, extricated from the ventilation shaft and returned.

While this was happening, a group went back to the hostel to dump bags, leaving Clare and Plankton with Martin. The arrangement was made to all meet up in the "Taverna del Prior" tapas bar - henceforth known for the purpose of the following quiz as the "Departure Point" - before going on to the Nautic Saloon and the tournament party.

However, David and Gemma said that we should go with them to the Nautic Saloon to ensure that we were able to find it, so we phoned the hostel and left a message for the others to not go to the tapas bar but to go straight to the Nautic Saloon.

We arrived at the Nautic Saloon where David and Gemma - as two of the organisers - went inside to ensure that everything was running smoothly, while Clare, Anton and Martin waited outside for the others. And waited, and waited, and waited . . .

Michelle: Quiz on the Touring and Drinking Club Molotov Cocktail.
The Question: Why the Bomb did not explode?
The Problem: Here are four points of view of the events that happened after the group split at the swimming pool, Saturday night, 19:00.

POINT OF VIEW 1:  The "Deserters" (Martin, Anton and Clare)
POINT OF VIEW 2:  Try-fixer or L'Oiseau de malheur "Black Bird" (Michelle)
POINT OF VIEW 3:  The Tapers (Paul, Clare, Steve, Andy, Helga, Ki, Keith and Eryl)
POINT OF VIEW 4:  Our Mascot (Stephanie)

POINT OF VIEW 1: The Deserters - Martin, Anton and Clare. From 20:00:
* We left a message at the hostel for the others to come straight to the party, but instead spent two hours standing outside in the wind and cold for without food or beer, while the others took themselves off to a tapas bar and ordered a full meal.

* An amazing display of water and light accompanied by booming classical music served for a while to take our minds off what we would rather be doing, but the continuing non-appearance of the others coupled with "silhouettes on the shade" of the party taking place inside the building right in front of us was really frustrating.
* Anton managed to get a second message through to Michelle (we did not know at this point that the first message left with the hostel was never delivered), who said that she would round up the gang and bring them to the party.
* The Metro station serving the Nautic Saloon was located on the other side of the huge city block that was the Nautic Saloon itself, so after allowing about 20 minutes for the others to get underway Clare went one way and Anton went the other way around the block, so whichever way the others came, either Clare or Anton would find them. Martin stayed at the entrance to the Nautic Saloon, so even if they turned up again in a fleet of taxis rather than with the Metro all eventualities seemed to be covered. However, after what seemed to Martin to be an interminable wait, Clare and Anton returned empty-handed.
* Eventually Michelle arrived, saying that the other group were about ten minutes behind her. If so, it was a very long ten minutes, but who knows: time had got pretty distorted by then.

POINT OF VIEW 2: Try-fixer or L'Oiseau de malheur "Black Bird" - Michelle. From 20:00:
* Michelle gets to the hostel with the gang, without "The Deserters".
* Tapers and Mascot goes to the "Taverna del Fraile" where they have appointment with Martin, Anton and Clare (not already known as Deserters at that time) for tapas.
* Michelle will not eat because it does not sound logical to have tapas before a possible dinner at Salon Nautica; then, she stays at the hostel for a few minutes to (i) sort out a problem with a heater; (ii) sort out the hotel arangements for Sunday to Wednesday for those of us who are staying on.
* Michelle receives a call from Anton... and will do her best to get to Salon Nautica with all the Tapers before 21h00
* Black Bird arrives to "Taverna del Fraile": No smile to the announcement of the changed plans, Deserters waiting for them.
* Black Bird waits a few minutes and finally run to the appointment.
* Hum... time is over... tension is going up for some Deserters...
* Obviously, the Black Bird arrives late, Deserters not happy, difficult to make everybody pleased.
* Party cancelled ... oops ... Casino (Italian for "confusion") is not exclusive to Italian, even English are good students
* Try to phone the Tapers ... too late ... they already left.
* Tapers arrive: difficult to believe Black Bird, when smiling: plans again changed!
* Final decision: The hungry Deserter Leader takes the group back to the Departure Point ...

POINT OF VIEW 3: The Tapers - Paul, Steve, Andy & Ki, Keith, Eryl. From 20:00:
* Tapers put bags in hotel and go to the Departure Point
* Tapers happy to order good tapas, waiting from Anton, Martin and Clare (not known as Deserters at that time).
* Tapers not happy when Black Bird sings the unexpected song!
* Tapers drinking good wine and not willing to rush! (hmm... tension, tension, tension)

Clare: "We found Alan Partridge's Dad running a tapas bar in the back streets of Barcelona - served great Martinis - an excellent 007 drama queen"
Ki: "It looked very odd, I must say"

POINT OF VIEW 4: Our Mascot - Stephanie. From 20:00:
* Courageously carrying her smile, her doll and the "mascota delfín", but not eating; following the Tapers, in the middle of the confusion ... crossing thief in the metro ... "Dad, is that Barcelona?"

23:00: Back to the Departure Point (Tapas del Prior) ... Group essentially split into (1) those who are hungry and (2) those who are not. The "hungry" group appears to be made up of one person from each group! (Anton, Martin, Paul, Michelle and Stephanie).

The moral of the story: we left the "casino" in Rome but forgot the telefonino! That would have been so useful! The Question remains unanswered: Why the Bomb did not explode?"

Martin: "By the time the team was finally reunited outside "chez party", many had really passed the party mood. Moreover, being told that our hosts would not be able to pick us up on the Sunday morning, and that we would have to make our own way via the Metro to the second pool where we were again playing in the first game (this time half an hour later at 9am), we decided that although there were still many of us who really wanted to go to the party, it would make more sense to head back to the neighbourhood of our hotel, find somewhere to eat there, and from there have an early-ish night ready for our early start tomorrow.

Martin went into the party to apologise for the fact that we would not be joining the party and to explain the reason behind our decision. He also clarified (or so he thought :-)))  ) with David the directions to the pool for the following morning, then we all took the Metro back to the hostel. Wandering down La Rambla, though, we quickly divided into "those who were interested in the curiosities" and "those who were hungry". For some inexplicable reason, the latter seemed to be comprised almost entirely of those who had not eaten earlier . . .

The "Hunger Crew", led by our interpreter Michelle, dived down one side-street after another in search of somewhere to eat. Eventually we found a restaurant that met everyone's criteria - quality for Michelle and quantity for the rest of us!