Friday 24th November 2000

Martin R: "Five-fifteen in the morning, and it was 'Depart for Dublin', round two. This time, though, by taxi, albeit at a cost of thirty quid instead of six. Ouch!

However, this time it was all smooth plain sailing: six o'clock at the airport, easy check-in, a coffee and doughnut and a gentle meander through to the departure gate, where I met up again with Maxine and Rachel. We sat side by side in the plane, not that it would have made any difference as we were all sparked out for most of the flight.

At the other end we retrieved our baggage and caught one of the many shuttle coaches bound for the city centre - first stop O'Connell Street for me and second stop Temple Bar for them. I would have said goodbye as I got off, but it seemed impolite to wake them . . ."

Carol: "Waking up pretty early on Friday - a habit which I have noticed hasn't rubbed off on the English - I realized I'd forgotten Eryl and Helen's room number, so I made my way downstairs, where I found Martin R, just arrived, sitting on the reception counter with the receptionist reading about Octopush from the back of his Chesham T-shirt.

Finding Eryl and Helen, the four of us made our way out to breakfast (we'd decided to pass on the toast and coffee offered by the hostel). Our trip into town consisted of breakfast at T.J.'s in Parnell Street - apparently, from the previous year, a favourite place to start the day - then Martin taking hours to shop around for yet another mobile phone SIM card, my quick stop at Thomas Cook for money, delayed by Martin then fiddling with his many SIMs, swapping phones, etc."

Martin R: "Not true, not true!"

Carol: "Eventually we headed for a 'hop-on-hop-off'  bus and took in the sights of the city. First stop past the Post Office and the "floozy-in-the-jacuzzi", on past the statue erected in tribute to Daniel O'Connell, with the bullet hole in the breast of his honour guard. It appears that Ireland is not that much different to South Africa . . .

The "hags with the bags"

Dublin's favourite son: just hanging out...

We took in the various statues of ordinary citizens: Molly Malone, who died of pneumonia (probably due to her low-cut dress), the "hags with the bags" and Oscar Wilde, to name but a few. We found our bus driver was a mine of interesting information, though we were a little disappointed to find that we would not be stopping at the Guinness Brewery, as it was closed for alterations."

Jamie, in England: "Well, good planning and foresight can never be beaten, right? Wrong! The Bournemouth / Southampton posse grouped on time in Southampton ready to leave at 13:30: the ferry was due to leave Holyhead at 20:45 so we had six hours before check-in and seven hours before departure. We made good time at respectable speeds from Southampton to Gloucester; unfortunately with the foul weather and heavy traffic the same could not be said by the time we passed through Shrewsbury."
 

		Undeterred, we decided to while away the next half-hour at the eel-lake, or rather what used to be a lake, before the River Poddle was built upon. Now it was just a grassy green, albeit with immensely long slender bronze(?) eels intricately interwoven across its surface, a reminder of the eels in the Poddle still gurgling its way through Dublin some way beneath our feet.
		Eryl tracing the paths of the eels

The next fifteen minutes were spent with the four of us picking a head or a tail and following it to its other end, all the while trying not to either fall off our own eel or bump into each other. Eventually, it was time to head back to the castle: needless to say this time we were not late."

Carol: "Once again we had an interesting, amusing Irish guide and thoroughly enjoyed the tour. Next stop was lunch at an Italian restaurant, which turned into a lazy afternoon interlude, with cozy surroundings and Italian food and wine.

Well fortified against the inevitable cold, we headed back to Temple Bar (what can I say ........ when all else fails...... drink and drink again!). We first went to the pub Eryl, Helen and myself had visited the previous night, danced up a sweat and then hit The Porterhouse. 

So this is what they mean by teamwork?

After visiting all four floors we found a space under the staircase and ordered OYSTERS . . . YUK!!!!! Eryl decided he "liked the way they slide down your throat" when he was told to "swallow, swallow" by Martin F. Martin F's retort to Helen was "my turn next - lean back" (we were under the stairs after all). Martin R's instructions to Helen were "take it in your mouth, head back and swallow": wonder what he had in mind?"

Swallow, swallow!

And the only thing that could possibly complement it: more Guinness!

Jamie, on the race to the ferry: "By this stage, drivers had changed on the outskirts of Gloucester and Jamie's preoccupation with time started to kick in. A hair-raising drive through the Welsh countryside ensued, much to the enjoyment of the back seat passengers but not so for the white-knuckled, teeth-clenched pilot and co-pilot. Comments such as "Whew, you're feeling confident" and "This is going to be close ... wasn't it?" were muttered often and at times under breath.

With a last change of drivers at Bethesda (Jamie was worn out and ragged from his rally record attempts through the Welsh mountains) the group arrived at the ferry port gates 15 minutes before departure. We finally boarded the ferry with five minutes to spare and as we clambered out of the car they were closing the ferry doors. Too close!

To add to the enjoyment of the evening, the weather was so foul that they had to stop serving food as soon as we left Holyhead, meaning that four very hungry 'push players were to land in Dublin, hungry, tired and nerve-wracked - an excellent combination to go out on the town!"

Michelle: " Thanks to Ryanair's ineptitude and potential strike, Marieke, Ben, Christina and myself had an English rather than an Irish Friday evening, and weren't at all REMOTELY jealous knowing the others were out on the razz!! However, at least it meant time to enjoy another whizz up the M1 to pick up the tour T-shirts from the printers. Christina and Ben made their ways to my house where we duly divvied up the many t-shirts to squish in bags between 'push gear, just wondering what exactly the baggage allowance was . . .

The traumatic thought of actually having to be awake and functioning at 4:30am to catch our flight put paid to any notion of pre-trip partying and we rolled into beds at 12:30am to blink the minutes away, dreaming of the black stuff and leprechauns to come. ZZZ . . ."

Carol: "Finally we left the Porterhouse, and - thanks to information gleaned as a result of Martin R's missed flight the previous night - we headed to the Olympia, a live music venue just across the road from Dublin Castle. Here there was a live band, "Buffalo Souljah", who played a string of reggae hits from Bob Marley and the Wailers. While waiting in the queue we were joined by Jamie, Russell, Matt & Karl, although only Karl actually made it inside: the rest slipped off to bed when we weren't looking. The live show started at midnight and was fantastic."

Jamie: "On arrival at the Hostel we were given a message to meet Martin R and Co at the Olympia theatre near Temple Bar. A "short" walk worked up an even bigger appetite and an even greater desire for some rest (at least for pilot and co-pilot). We found the Martin R crowd queued up to go into the gig, so Jamie bought tickets and we joined them in the queue. Unfortunately, by then the stomach pains had become unbearable and dietary needs outweighed all other external stimuli, so a quick bite to eat at the Chinese takeaway was on the cards."

Martin R: "The queue in front of us was becoming shorter and shorter and still Jamie, Matt and Russell had not emerged from the takeaway. C'mon guys, takeaway... that means 'take ... away', go in, buy, come out, eat in queue... Eventually, with barely a dozen people between us and the door and the monkey-suited ones letting in about a dozen people at a time, we sent Karl in to find out what was keeping them.

He came out a minute later to report that all three were devouring their food piranha-style and that nothing would move them, so it looked like we would have to see them inside. Once inside, we waited for them for a bit, but absolutely no south-coasters appeared. Eventually, the lure of the bar grew too strong . . ."

Jamie: "Once Matt, Jamie and Russ had sat down and satisfied their appetites, further bodily necessities kicked in - such as sleeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Russ, a man with whom no ticket booth person should mess at the best of times, inflicted his wrath on the poor ticket sales people of the theatre, and lo and behold, despite large signs saying "No Refunds" and large blokes in monkey suits all around, we were refunded in full, by which time Karl had joined the Martin R group inside the venue. Oh well, at least someone from the group would enjoy their night out!"

Carol: "After an excellent gig, our final pre-tournament bedtime call was 3:30am. Sadly, we only managed to last a further fifteen minutes beyond the previous night's record."

Jamie: "Sleep was sound, apart from the entrance of the Bob Marley revellers who came in at 3:30am and switched the lights on: aaaaarrrrrrgh - bright-light, bright-light!"