Not a great deal has happened in the last few days, so I have decided to tell in a little more detail the events of Friday night, since it may give a few of you a cheap laugh.
As mentioned, I had a hotel room for the night so was able to cut loose, and cut loose I did. I was due to meet my mate Dan at 9pm, but knowing that he was attending a wedding from 6:30 I decided to wander into town and grab a bite to eat and sup a few ales from around seven.
I went to Tom & Jerry’s and thankfully the Test was on (because I nicked the remote and put it on) so I settled in to wait for Dan. Now, he’s been living here nearly a year so I was fully expecting him to be on Nepali time, and indeed he didn’t show until about 9:30, however I had got chatting to some slightly annoying English bloke at the bar and all was fine.
We stayed there until 11 and moseyed across to Fire Club. Last time I visited this place was due to Becci’s gag about there being a celebratory Toga party going on after the strikes ended only for me to arrive and discover a lone bloke with his shirt off on the dance floor. Thankfully, I was not toga’d up and neither did I choose to stay.
This time however, it was positively thriving. We bumped into a few other people on the way there, including Tony who I had watched the T20 with. I should also mention that Tony is an absolute giant, not dissimilar to what I imagine Goliath looked like, beard and all.
We stayed there until it closed at about 1 and that is, apparently, when the fun really started. Upon leaving, Ash (Goliath’s other half) got into an argument with a policeman about something or other. I decided to diffuse the situation by nicking the coppers hat and legging it down the street while shouting “You’ll never catch me, I’m an athlete.” I was caught approximately 0.73 seconds later.
Now, stealing clothing form Asian policemen is perhaps not the smartest move as coppers around the globe are not all quite like G-Man, it would seem. Needless to say the lad wanted his hat back, but having decided I needed it we entered into quite a heated debate over how much it was worth. Obviously his asking price was too high since I woke up the following morning hatless.
After that Dan and I challenged Goliath and Ash to a rickshaw race, which led to us tearing through the streets of Kathmandu yelling every line from ‘Days of Thunder’ that I could possibly muster. I am told we won, but truthfully the whole thing is a bit of a blur.
We then landed in a Casino where we promptly demanded the finest champagne on offer. Thankfully I don’t think they were quite prepared for this request as what arrived was certainly no Dom Perignon.
After that the others set about the prestigious business of gambling. Of course, having never gambled in my life I had no idea what was going on and could barely count past five, let alone to 52. I also discovered that yelling “red, no black, no red, no no black!” is also not a guaranteed formula for success. Oh well, guess you have to learn somehow.
I don’t remember getting home, but can only assume I hit the wall at some stage and decided to take myself out of the equation before I got myself into more trouble. Smart move that.
So there you are, you can take the man out of the Drovers but evidently the Drovers remain in the man. I hope you enjoyed; a new poll has just been posted. Rather surprisingly the last one was a tie between ‘Sir’ and ‘Mate’ – I think you lot are too polite.