Due to severe memory loss -possibly alcohol induced- I was undecided about publishing a post on twickenham shenanigans, but hey I'll give it a punt!
Saturday
The weekend started in normal fashion for me, stupidly.
I had planned our movements down to a tee, who would meet where, what trains to get, walking times, etc...
So when I arrived at Hove station to collect my train tickets and couldn't get them out of the machine I was worried. I then tried to discuss the matter with the ticket kiosk lady, my luck did not improve. Clearly she had been trained by the ever popular 'computer says no...' Training academy. I could see she was spelling my name wrong - 3 times with a k - I missed my train so had to cut my losses and phone my mum to drive me to Brighton station. Here, I had more of the same problem, my reference number did not work!
My mum then, after all of that stress and running around, that maybe we should go home and get the tickets that were dated for today that arrived in the post weeks ago.... Cheers mum.
Anywho, my mum then collected the tickets and kindly drove me to Gatwick station where I finally got a train, I changed at east Croydon, missed yet another train that I chased down the platform.
I finally got to London a solid hour or so late, apologies to Ben who had been sat on his own in a pub the whole time dressed as a Monkey and further more to Sam Hodgson who had to wait nearly two hours on his own dressed as a zebra by a burger van, a risky game to play with the horse meat scandal going on.
I made myself even more popular than ever on the train to Sam and Twickenham as I dropped beer on a girl on the train who was clearly just trying to get from a to b.
A great day was had by all, I even managed to have a catch up with my old Hove RFC mates and coaches, Sam and Mike Philips and the man the legend George Martin.
Toby, Sam S, Sam H, Ollie, Ben, Cian, Lewis and myself spent the day telling everyone to go to infernos in Clapham... Which backfired as it became so busy we couldn't get in ourselves!
The night progressed and thanks to bar man Cian's generous vodka measures my final memories of the night involve getting up on a table and 'dropping it like its hot'.
Sunday
Sunday started as Saturday had passed out, with vodka for breakfast. This was due to my own imposed ruling of '1 before 9 or 9 before 1'.
Again we ran late as we met Emma for a birthday breakfast, and this time it was poor Dom who was left as a Monkey by the burger van for a good two hours.
We had another great day joined by Jack and Dom as Ollie and Sam H departed.
A personal highlight involved Toby and I trying to talk to talk to our old Fijian mate William the Fiji Physio who gave us the smile and a wave, which in international sign I assume means: "fuck off and leave me alone I'm working you piss-head englishmen."
After the day of top class rugby I tried -being the main word- to wow the train with my jokes. All of which are to long to be written down and obviously wouldn't work as well without my fantastic comic timing. But trust me they were great and nobody groaned or begged me to stop constantly.
Cian Sam S and I then had a few more beers at a pub before heading home. Where I got lost trying to find a toilet, got on the wrong train and went to purley then selhurst leaving Sam alone to be stabbed by a stranger with a pen.
After finally getting home to wake my entire family up running and shouting, I slept.
Excellent weekend and a fantastic farewell to all involved.
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