by Jim,
with Patsy's 'Thursday night in Amsterdam', plus helpful insights from John, Judge Elmer the Great, Eamon, Ronan and Gene

Shack. Bugga.

It all started as a random message on the message board advertising a Galway-esque hockey/drinking tournament scheduled for June. It sounded like a good idea, but who would go? Exams, money, and going to America issues being stumbling blocks. Then one night in the Star, Damien, Gav and Jim drunkenly decided it would be brilliant, and from that point there was no stopping us. We lost people for various reasons such as those above, to the more bizarre such as court appearances. We also gained people, including Barber who rang Jim five minutes before he went into UCC travel to book the flights.

Thus, the final party was as follows:

• Jim, the Leader/Oberführer
• Phil, aka Shack.
• Elmo, the Great.
• Jer
• Barber
• Damien
• Ronan
• Eamon
• John
• Cathal
• /der
• Ciarán
• Hackett
• Patsy
• UCD Bueno

• Louise
• Jenny
• Niamh
• Orla
• Jen
• Gene
• Susan
• Yvonne
• UCD Aoiffe
• UCD Aoife
• UCD Amy
• UCD Helen
• UCD Sarah Jane
• UCD Gill

Most of the girls flew out on Thursday, plus a few of the lads; the rest arrived on Friday, except Damien who somehow managed to drunkenly (and with no sleep for the last 17 weeks) negotiate the problems of getting to Alkmaar on his own on Saturday morning. Shack shacked the shack shack shackashack. Patsy takes up the story of Thursday night in Amsterdam:

Thursday 31st May
Okey dokey, the following represents one old codgers attempt at humorous storytelling.  For the record there were 16 lads and 14 girlies on tour.  Overall we consisted of a very mixed bag.  We had the young (Orla Mac), the old (Patsy), the sick (Hackett) and the infirm (some random Dutch punter that was stabbed – more of this later).  We also had an incredibly mixed array of hockey talent on display – from the very crap (Pat) to the very brilliant (Damien - sanks for le bribe!!)

The group made its way to Amsterdam in various dribs and drabs over Thursday and Friday.  As Hackett and I flew in on Thursday I can give you all a concise, truthful and definitive account of what happened on Thursday (at least as I remember it anyway).

10.00am
Board plane in good time to enthusiastic greetings from Aer Lingus staff. Hit on continuously by young cute Aer Lingus stewardess.

1.00pm
Arrive Amsterdam. Meet the Dublin lads, Andy and Bueno. Decide to book the Plaza.

3.00pm
Arrive Plaza. After a quick sherry we proceed to dinner. Dinner is sumptuous. I’m holding court, impressing everyone with my quick wit and social repartee.

7.00pm
Go to theatre (no, not that kind of theatre).

10.30pm
Return to Plaza for cigars and brandy. No sign of the girlies.

12.00pm
Retire for the evening.

The following is the alleged version of what happened on the first night.  It is full of hearsay and mistruths and as I have no recollection of these events I wish to distance myself from them.

10.00am
Board plane. Get no love from Aer Lingus stewardesses, as per usual.

1.00pm
Arrive Amsterdam. Meet the Dublin lads, Andy and Bueno. Quick couple of quarts and off to the Hostel. In good form.

5.00pm
After fairly hairy taxi ride arrive hostel. Check in, quick shower, down to bar. Start drinking beer by the pitcher. Seems like a great idea. Girlies, who flew in earlier, arrive.  Introductions all round. Speech starting to slur but everything is just super.

7.15pm
Arrive back at the hostel. I find that I’m a huge hit with the girls who laugh hysterically at everything I say. This is surprising because I thought I was talking about the holocaust. Blissfully unaware that people are laughing at, rather than with, me. Somebody starts to spin the floor around.

7.20pm
Some of the guys get food. I declare boldly that food is for wimps.

7.21pm
Puke in bathroom. Don’t quite hit the target.

7.30pm
Leave hostel, arrive unwittingly at gay bar. No sign of anyone else apart from Hackett. Now having serious problems putting sentences together.

Time Unknown
Girls arrive at bar just in time to save me from inevitable pummelling from Hackett, who though by no means sober himself, is on a different planet from the one I am currently inhabiting. Hackett gets into a fight with a table. Table loses.

Time Unknown
Leave gay bar, arrive second bar. Struggling to put words together so I decide to impress everyone with my dancing. Everyone seems suitably impressed as they stare in awe from across the bar. I think I’m spilling shorts all over the shop at this point. Struggling to put letters together.

Time Unknown
Leave bar for a breath of fresh air. Drederick Tatum, the bouncer, refuses to let me back in. Realise that I may be a bit tipsy so decide to ‘charm’ him. Bouncer obviously can’t speak English, but this isn’t a problem, as I now seem to understand Dutch perfectly. Now although this guy speaks Dutch he obviously doesn’t understand it as he’s still not leaving me in.  Maybe it’s my Irish accent? I revert to sign language and give him a big hug while blurting out ‘U R GAY’. This didn’t have the desired effect either, but I’m not bothered as people are now coming out of the bar and I’ve finally realised that I’m completely rat arsed. Fall back to hostel.

In the interests of fair storytelling I feel I should mention that at some stage of the evening I managed to score with one of the UCC girls.  She will remain nameless as she is now in the witness relocation program and has taken an injunction out against me.  Anyway the following morning we met the rest of the lads who were flying in that day.  As I slowly realised what a complete prat I had made of myself I begin to pray fervently that Jim made the plane so he could take up the mantle of complete piss head/village idiot. The lads duly arrive full of stories of my idiocy and ribbed me good naturedly for the rest of the trip.

Also in the interests of fair storytelling, Dave has a certain clarification of Patsy's account:
I take issue with Pat's recounting of part of Thursday night.  Arriving "unwittingly at gay bar" is just shy of being truthful as I had to take it upon myself to find Pat a bar before he started crying (after everyone had left while yours truly got landed with making sure Pat made it to the bog to throw up).  Pat was a bit emotional at this stage feeling that no one loved him.  I pointed to a bar but saw that only two guys were inside and joked that it might be a gay bar.  Pat, feeling lonely and depressed, said (and I quote) "I'll give anything a go once". There's a chance I might have been mistaken as most of what Pat was saying that night would have needed an interpreter who was fluent in insane babbling brought about by copious amounts of drink. Just setting things straight.

Back in Cork, Louise and Kieran had finished their exams, so naturally had to go on the piss. We went to hockey training where we said goodbye to Alma, who was off to Newport for the summer. Luckily before she went she made a chance remark leading Jim to remembering that he had left his tickets at work. Bollox! So after training, Jim, Jer, Kieran, Louise plus Holland gear squeeze into the car for an epic jaunt around Cork. Luckily nobody from work spots the semi-drunken Kieran and Louise in the car as he retrieves the tickets. Jim drops Kieran and Lou off, and arranges to meet them in the Star later. John rings Jim for advice on what to pack. Jim tell him of his lucky escape with the tickets, and he laughs derisively at his 'ordeal'. Apparently John had been about to go out playing football when his phone rang around 8pm. He decided reluctantly to answer it. It was our friend Toni St Ledger from UCC Travel working late. "John," she asks, "Are you flying to Amsterdam tomorrow?" "Yes," replies John. "Well, would you like to collect your tickets?"

Idiot.

Anyway Louise and Jim unwisely end up on the piss in Bar Rumba and Fast Eddies with Kieran, consoling him as he is very emotional, presumably at missing out on the trip (or else it's the fact that he is absolutely buckled). Luckily for Jim, Jer is sober and sensible, so the two lads head home earlyish. Louise cannot be persuaded to leave however, despite the flights being at 6.40am and she still hasn't packed. Jim express misgivings about Lou's ability to get out of this mess, but Jer assures me that 'things will get done' - it's a Scoil Mhuire thing apparently...

Friday 1st June
Did you know it is bright at half five in the morning? Usually one is too drunk at 5am to notice such things. Not too hungover, which is nice. Within minutes we are up in the airport checking in. Barber and Jim go for a fag outside and are torn between staring at the stunning chick and the Miami Dolphins jet. Barber tells Jim that the girl is going to Holland also. Jim doesn't ask how he knows this, as it is good news. Shack.

We have a quick munch upstairs, and all the lads turn up, except Elmer. No sign of the girls. Phone calls made, nobody answers. Elmer turns up. We happily dump the responsibility for worrying about the girls onto his shoulders. In the departure lounge we get a weird character to take a photo of us. Soon it is time to board, and alas still no sign Jenny or Lou. Elmer worries, but the check-in person informs him that they are in the airport somewhere, so all is well.

"COME ON LIMERICK!" arsa John.

Indeed, the girls finally board in a haze of alcohol fumes and drunken grins, having first attempted to board the flight to Paris. The flight is uneventful, the crap airhostesses can't even tell us the name of the plane (not that we cared much) but at least the breakfast is edible. Jer sleeps, shocker. Jim tries to, but even with his mask (and of course the traditional and 'hilarious' photo of same) is unsuccessful.

Elmo's insight on the air hostesses:
Jim the Ultimate and Elmo the Great are being serviced by Toni Air Hostess who despite being quite the fetching lassie, seems quite withdrawn and bored with her work. I lean over to Jim and comment on this; "These days, you don't even get service with a smile, back in the day you used to get oral sex with your complimentary coke!"

We soon spot the broad expanse of Holland below us, and indeed the plane is about to land. We all make sure our luggage is safely stowed in the overhead lockers or under the seats in front of us, our seatbacks are in the upright position, and our seatbelts securely fastened. Jenny and Louise meanwhile are wandering around the plane. The lads suggest that since we are about thirty seconds from Schiphol it might be a good idea to sit down, but the girls are unimpressed.

With a minimum of fuss, and only small moaning from the increasingly hungover girls, we sort our bags etc and emerge into the main halls of Schiphol. Ronan and Elmer wave to the crowd in Arrivals saying "Thanks for coming out, nice to see you, thank you for the support!"  It is barely ten o'clock or so, so there's no rush to do anything, despite Ciarán getting a bit antsy. Multiple fags and drinks of water are had before we head for Amsterdam. Barber spots Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink wandering around the airport.

Onboard the double decker train (wow!), Jim The Leader is bombarded with questions. Barber and Ronan kindly volunteer to be The Leader's Rage Ventees. On reaching 'Emshterdem' Central Station we convene in the sunshine outside to plot our next move. There are issues over all the gear we have, especially the goalie gear. Eventually it is decided that some people will head off to Alkmaar (presumably to visit the world famous cheese market) while others will stay for the afternoon in Emshterdem to visit, er, Anne Frank's house. Or something. There is a huge locker room in the station where we can leave our stuff, but half the feckin' lockers are out of order. There is a bit of an ordeal, but after a while some worker gets a few up and running. Luckily we have only to outwit a few Americans to get our bags in the lockers. Shackatronatus.

The locker fiasco killed about an hour, and soon the rest of the party arrived, ie the girls and the Dublin contingent. Susan Delany’s attempt at diplomacy on the tram from their hostel is apparently worth mentioning, chatting away to the friendly driver? Perhaps this is when she delivered her remark “I love Holland but the language is difficult, it’s very like German!” We all meet up and soon Patsy's antics of the previous night are recounted, and he receives much abuse. We frolic in the sunshine with some sort of ball. Elmer announces that he is long. OK then.

We split up for the afternoon - unfortunately for Eamon, Ciarán, Phil, Barber, Cathal, and one or two others, they are subjected to 'John and Jim's Interrail Holiday Reliving Expedition', which incorporates such sights as the hostel with the mice in it, and the street with BK and McDonalds next door to each other. At least since we are all starving the latter had some practical purpose. John has BK twisty fries, which are delicious, apparently. The lads are also treated to 'the bar on Damrak with the waitresses that wear almost nothing'. Enduring imagery.

After, we set off for Dam Square and the Royal Palace of Pissing, and soon we are drawn inexorably to the Red Light District, like <insert lewd simile here>. Our first taste of the RLD is a young lady and five boozed up (probably English) lads 'negotiating'. Clearly the talks break down resulting in the young lady retiring inside and locking her door. We reach the main streets of the RLD where the merchandise is on display in windows at street level. Those who had not been there before marvel in awe. One of the lads expresses dismay at the 'no photos' sign. John makes a valid point: "Can you imagine it? 'Yeah Mum, here's one of me shagging a whore!'?" Random fat (shocker) American tourist laughs at John's quip.

Walking around we see that the quality on show fluctuates wildly from the low end of the market to the gorgeous (that girl in the pink dress!!!!!!!!!!). The girl in the pink dress inspires us to walk around her block again for a repeat viewing. We bump into the Americans again, who amazingly say something funny. Eventually most of us tire of the RLD and decide to retire for a lager or two. Ciarán has to be physically dragged away.

Meanwhile, Elmer, Ronan and some of the girls had gone to Alkmaar - things started on a bright note when the lads first met Remco as they arrived:
"Welcome, you are a bit earlier than we expected, do you want a beer?"
Ronan's conclusion - Ah, this is going to be good!

Back in Emshterdem, some of the girls went shopping, and may have even attempted to visit a museum (a proper one, not just the Sex Museum!) Hackett and Patsy also wandered around, and then texted one of us to find out where we were. We glance at the name of the street, and reply helpfully 'NIEUWEZIJDS NIEUWESTRAAT'. At least we didn't say 'Shack Street'.

We return to Dam Square where John fulfills a lifetime ambition by successfully kicking a pigeon. We decide to take a few photos but are worried about asking a random punter in case they feck off - one of the lads has a brainwave, as he spots a tourist in a wheelchair...

After choosing a bar on the square, John is landed the unfortunate task of getting the extremely expensive round. It is quite pleasant sipping Dutch lager on the square, though it is occasionally chilly.

The girls' valiant attempts to do something cultured seem to have met with failure, because they ended up with Hackett and Patsy in O'Reilly's. This was near where we were so we set off to join them. Random banter ensues, Patsy is in witty form. John was terrified by the appearance of a dog in the pub, so Patsy gives it a few minutes then turns to John and shouts "WOOF WOOF!" Brilliant.

"COME ON LIMERICK!" arsa John.

Back to Central Station for the journey to Alkmaar. The train is not too full, so everyone gets seats in a carriage except Ciarán beacuse the goalie gear is too big to fit through the door. Jim keeps him company in the gap between the carriages.
"So here we are in Holland," says Ciarán, "Euthanasia is legal here you know. I wonder does anyone want to avail? Maybe Cathal, he's getting on a bit!"
Another Ciarán quip: "Do the bouncers in Amsterdam send you for a coffee to sober up?"

In the carriage, there is a card game. Jer sleeps. Shocker. The Leader organises lifts from the station. We reach Alkmaar and are cheered by a BK at the station. John has BK twisty fries, which are delicious, apparently. We meet Margot, Remco, the amusingly named 'Urine', and many others who are kindly ferrying us to the hockey club. Soon everyone is gone except Jim and Jer, but since we have part of Margot's car we are confident she will return. However Jim has forgotten about the existence of Susan, Hackett and Patsy who were still in BK. Thus Margot returns in her small car and there is a slight problem. Quickly resolved though and soon we are in Alkmaar MHC! Which is shack.
 

Alkmaar MHC: foreground is Veld 2, sand based, background Veld 1, water based. Veld 3, sand based is to the left of Veld 1. The clubhouse is on the right, with the Balcony of Drunken Singing clearly in sight. The campsite is 'behind' the camera.

The Leader arrives and sees the leadees have managed (despite the rain) to put up their tents by themselves, even Patsy and Hackett surprisingly (their attempt at a rehearsal on Wednesday was quite comical). Jim and Jer deliberate on a suitable site for their tent. Jim cautions Jer that tents are notoriously bad at keeping sound in. We come up with a code word to remind each other that Andy and EJ, our neighbours, may be in their tent and as such hearing everything we say: 'fuck'. The tent is put up with a minimum of effort, but Andy and EJ (holding court in their tent shocker) are amused by the proceedings. Fuck. Jim and Jer resolve to be still quieter in future.

Soon all the tents are up, including a spare one for gear. We laugh at the wind-up that is Ronan's and Eamon's tent. John and Barber decide not to put up their other tent, which will be needed if Damien defies the odds and actually makes it to Alkmaar tomorrow. The UCD people are messing around on Veld 2, so a few of the lads join in in a bonding exercise. Annoyingly and confusingly, all of the UCD girls' names start with 'A'. Well, most of them anyway. Shack.

More from Elmer:
The Judging thing started after we zipped up one of our tents on Friday and we departed for the bar, I was already after a couple of shots of beer and I tried to strike up witty banter with a passing fellow from Cambridge. After 3 seconds of him opening his mouth, I became bored, increasingly so when Jim furthered the conversation by pretending to be interested in whatever shite he was spewing. So when we finally departed (thank God) about 30 seconds later, we said our pleasantries and turned in oppostite directions. I muttered "Tosser!", and then elaborated with "I Judge him to be a tosser!" and henceforth I became the first Judge. Jim being the second as he seemed quite amused by the whole thing. We gave ourselves the witty titles of Judge Elmer the Great and Judge Jim the Ultimate and Damien was chosen to inform whoever we Judged our exact feelings about them, as Dutch /Der found out! Which was nice.

Soon everyone is in the bar, having first decided which of our many custom made shirts we will sport. Disaster strikes as it emerges that there is only one other ladies' team! Not to worry, there's always Heineken. Some of the lads have cunningly arranged pizzas, the cunning foxes. The Leader attempts to Lead people into getting pizza for him, in vain. John tries a different tack with Barber.
"Barbs, can I have some pizza please Barbs? Go on Barbs! Barbs, BARBS!!!!"

BARBS?????????????????????????????????????????????

'Barbs', as he is now and forever more known, is swayed by John's impassioned plea and gives him some pizza. Well done John. Random banter ensues, shocker. We discover that one is supposed to buy tickets for beer from Tony Ticket, instead of giving cash to the bar staff. We buy 1,000,000 tickets. Patsy is once again in quip mood, "So Elmer, how long have you had that nickname?" (Patsy had been waiting two years for the right time to say this.)

John meanwhile amazes us by somehow knowing a random Dutch punter and going off to chat with him. It turns out yer man is the coach of Pembroke Ladies. Rudi is his name, and he and John have a fairly intense but interesting conversation (I'm told). Jim and Elmer are having banter with Hackett, Ciarán, and possibly Barbs, when the pivotal 'Bugga' moment happens. Note: Elmer and Jim think this is the funniest thing in the world ever, but nobody else thought it was funny, not even Orla Mac. Anyway here it is:

The Birth of Bugga
Background: Elmer, Alma, Syb say 'Damn' with a kind of twang, and it sounds like the 'damn' at the end of Eminem's 'Stan'. (...come to think of it, his name was.... it was you.... Damn!) It turns out that the 'damn' they used wasn't inspired by Stan, it was just a coincidence. Anyway Elmer had said 'Bugga' once or twice randomly, so Jim says "Come to think of it, his name was..... it was you........ BUGGA!"
Cue complete hysterics from the two lads, bewilderment from everyone else. Bugga. We laugh for about ten minutes, everyone asks us what was so funny, but we can't even talk. Then Elmer says it again, so we laughed for another ten minutes. We Judge that Hackett and Ciarán are about to kill us so we decide to stop, but can't. Bugga. We eventually agreed to meet out on the pitch alone in half an hour to laugh in peace!

The only downside to this (which was in my top five funniest moments ever) was that we miss a possibly equally funny moment:
Eamon: "When people look back at this trip, imagine it: we’ll all be legends. First years in years to come will say 'and there was Pat Healy, he’s dead now, God rest him!' "
This causes Jer to secrete lager through his nostrils. Bugga.

While all this clean honest fun is taking place upstairs, the girls are downstairs drinking strong Dutch spirits. Poor old Susan gets very confused due to Ronan rambling at length about the price of Murphy's in foreign countries, and 'Barbs' popping up talking shite also. Next issue, does Susan even exist? She shouts across at somebody but they don't hear. Sue begins to panic. Elmer and Jim return from their Bugga reunion on Veld 1. Susan tries to talk to us but we just keep saying Bugga and Damn. Susan is convinced she doesn't exist and starts weeping. This catches our attention, we Judge Sue to be completely fucked, so Elmer talks to her, convincing her she does, after all, exist. Existence is great, at the end of the day. This isn't the end of Elmer's problems though. Toni Girlfriend also gets wrecked, leading to Toni Paranoid, leading to Toni Domestic, possibly leading to Tony Single? Elmer certainly doesn't have a clue what is going on.

Elmer can shed more light on the Susan existence thing:
We were all downstairs on Friday night, some of them had been drinking the weirdest shit which certain people never really got out of their system (Toni Domestic). I went down to point and laugh for a while, suddenly I feel this really hard pull on my shoulder and I turn to see Susan with tears down her cheeks. She drags me over around the corner and blurts out "Elmer, tell me truthfully, do I really exist coz I was talking and no one was listening even though I was talking out loud no one was talking to me and I am worried, do I exist?" I think for a moment and consider the best way of calming her down, result, I pissed myself laugh at her and remarkably, she snapped out of it and laughed along too. Which was nice.

Shack.

In other news, Mangers falls down the stairs - heroically, her first concerns are for the welfare of the 60 fags she has, which are to supply everyone due to the bizarre lack of fags in the bar. Cathal manages to destroy a table. The DJ plays 'la la la' not once, not twice, but thrice. Jim and Orla are summoned to a room with Margot and various organisers. Jim uses this opportunity to set out our demands for Saturday, namely our refusal to play after 3.30pm because of the Ireland Portugal match. After lengthy negotiations during which Jim attempts to modify their Excel spreadsheet (but fail due to being too drunk to operate a mouse), it is agreed that we will finish up at about 4pm, and Margot et al will then drive us to an Irish bar in Alkmaar. Marvellous. Jim returns to the leadees and inform them of the joyous news.

By eleven or so everyone is completely fucked, so we return to the tents. Passing Elmer's tent, Jim attempts to say "Bugga" but it comes out "aaarhg". Jenny asks Elmer what the hell that was. "That was Jim trying to say 'Bugga'" replies Elmer. Elmer Judges Jim to be in need of practice.

Ronan and Eamon still haven't realised their tent has to be a windup so they both squeeze in somehow. Ronan had planned to sleep with /der in his four man tent, but somehow /der is taking up the whole lot on his own. Jim and Jer wander to a Cambridge tent, get two cans of beer, return to their tent, and finally ramble at length. Fuck. Somebody pukes near one of the girls' tents, which was a bit disturbing. Jer gets up to puke around 2am also. Amazingly, nobody knocks down a tent due to drunkenly tripping on one of the string yokies (can't remember the technical term).

Saturday 2nd June
Saturday morning is a nightmare. The nightmare of nightmares in fact. Most people wake up at 6.00am or so (except Jer, obviously). The sound of lashing rain on tents is surprisingly loud. Bugga. 'Barbs' pukes at 6.30. Jim is on the verge of puking for approximately an hour, during which interlude death is most desirable. Eventually Jim decides to walk to the clubhouse for water. About half way there, Jim pukes - having first considerately left the pitch. Jenny sees him and runs over. "Omigod Jim are you ok????? Hang on there, I'll get you some water! Are you sure you're ok???????????????" Jim attempts to wittily reply "I'm fine thanks, I've done this before you know!" but it came out as a sort of retching sound, along with some of his small intestine. Jenny rushes off thinking Jim is about to die, but by the time she comes back Jim has completed the job and obviously is now in excellent form. Jim thanks Jenny for her kind, though misplaced, concern.

Jim realises that Patsy, a key element of our defence, will resist all attempts at being woken, so he brings him some water. Patsy is extremely grateful and as a reward decides to get up. Ronan is the proud owner of a 2 litre bottle of water, but gets 'pissy' (according to John) when the lads take sips.

John kindly texts Jim that breakfast is provided in the clubhouse - this alleviates the misery that is in the camp. Breakfast consists of ham and cheese sandwiches. These are tasty. Marvellous. Coffee is also available. /der opts for lager. Our first match is at 11.30 versus OHC Bully (?) so we've plenty of time to try and recover. Jim tries to find Margot to apologise for what he now realises were outrageous drunken demands of the previous night, she is quite understanding. Andy and EJ thank Jim and Jer for amusing them with their drunken babbling. Fuck.

'Barbs' reminds John that they must put up the other tent for Damien and Tony. Bugga.

The match is on the water based pitch, which is nice, but we're a little worried as everyone else seems to be a foot taller than all of us, and they also seem very good at hockey. We're about to take the pitch when Tony PA announcer announces:
"Derk niuewj gartenkej ooo say say veld tway dijk sprichtens!"
"Waahaaay!" say The Lads.
"Gefrejkt dijk unter lijkens straat geschafters!" says Tony PA.
"Waahaaaaaaaay!" say The Lads.

We go in with a strong lineup, which was Ciarán in goal (Hackett wasn't feeling the best so didn't want to play at all), Cathal left back, Jim and Patsy in the middle, Jer rampaging down the right, Elmo in front of him (though Jer spent most of the time in the right wing position with Elmo covering him), John centre-mid, Shack on the left, Bueno left wing, Eamon centre forward, and finally 'Barbs' keeping Jer company on the right wing. We're in the middle of 'warming up' when Damien strolls into the grounds like it's the Mardyke on a random Saturday morning. He's very drunk. Shack.

Our pre-match apprehension proves to be misplaced as we hammer Bully 4-0, goals coming from John, Cathal, Tony, and Tony. Ronan bitches about not getting enough of a game.

'Barbs' reminds John that they must put up the other tent for Damien and Tony. Bugga.

We adjourn to the bar where it is now lunch time. Lunch consists of ham and cheese sandwiches. They are nice. Damien is not just drunk, he is in fact very very drunk. He is appalled by the fact that some of us are drinking water, and also the green stuff that Shack purchased for everyone. He announces that he is very rich, proceeds to buy 1,000,000,000 tickets, and gets everyone beer. Waahaay! Some of the lads don't approve of drinking early, some others simply don't want to ever drink again. In fact, Eamon becomes the nth person to puke at around about this time. However looking back, a drink was probably the best thing for us. In the bar, there is a framed shirt of 'De Nooijer', which prompts Jer to ramble at length about 'De No-eye-jer' (as Jer humourously pronounces it) despite knowing nothing about the chap. Damien also rambles at length about some brilliant hockey player. It turns out that De N is in fact Tony Olympic Gold, and even better is sitting on a chair across the way! We look forward to playing against him.

"COME ON LIMERICK!" arsa John.

The controversial Ireland Portugal game is throwing multiple spanner shaped objects in the works though, as the schedule we have been given is the old one, ie pre-Jim's 'negotiations'. This causes problems as some of the lads are insisting on going to Amsterdam if necessary, whereas others want to stay to play the matches. Luckily, several of the teams decide to go drinking for the afternoon so we don't have too many games to play. However Margot insists the match is on at 5pm, when in fact we know it to be on at 4pm. At worst we'll get to see the second half, which isn't too bad.

Our next game is Ooo Say Say v Phoenix, or 'Heren II' as we know them, mainly because 'Heren II' is on their shirts. This is a very enjoyable match, as they are a good team. We play well but lose one nil due to John missing a one on one, and Damien drunkenly missing a sitter (though from an acute angle) which seemed to go in but in fact came out off the post. Ah well. Ronan bitches about not getting enough of a game.

'Barbs' reminds John that they must put up the other tent for Damien and Tony. Bugga.

Meanwhile, the girls played out a nailbiting 0-0 draw with the other girls team, Amstelveen. It turns out that since there are no other girls teams, our girls will be playing the men's teams. In fact, our next game is against the girls. Shack and Jim umpire a different match. Jim receives lots of abuse in Dutch, which discontinues when he informs them he doesn't in fact speak Dutch. After the game we return to the UCC match, which is just a friendly mixed game. This game is good shaic, although Elmo did fall, shocker. Damien was nearby but not involved apparently. Elmer pretends to be upset with him saying 'You are no longer Tony Friend'. Jim summons Jer to inform him of the latest gossip from Cork which has arrived in text form from Alma. Syb in scoring shocker! Kieran is the hockey player du jour. The match is later abandoned when it starts absolutely lashing so we go into the clubhouse to report the score - bizarrely, there are two conpletely contradictory and inconsistent accounts of this:

- The John version:
"John tells Elmer to report the score as 14-8. Tony Holland mishears. 14-0 to the lads is put down. hee hee."

- The Elmer version:
"Elmer is about to put down 4-0 as the score, but someone says 'add one onto that', resulting in 14-0 (as opposed to 5-0, presumably)."

We may never know the true story. Bugga.

'Barbs' reminds John that they must put up the other tent for Damien and Tony. Bugga.

It turns out that we have only one more match, against the Cambridge lads, then Margot is going to bring us into an Irish bar in Alkmaar which is showing the match. As the girls also have a match, and since Jim has Judged Cambridge to be shit, he decides to give the girls some of our players. Jer, the two UCD lads, and one or two others play for them while we brush Cambridge aside 4-0, goals from John (2), Shack, and /der. Despite Jim moving himself to centre forward and despite John and Damien spending the entire match trying to set him up, he fails to score. Bugga. Terrible service.

After the game it's time for quick showers. Afterwards, Jim says to Shack "Shack, do you want to shack back to the shack?" Much hilarity. A team of chauffeurs transport us to McGuires, an unbelievably sleazy dive of a place, but luckily they have a tv which is indeed showing Ireland v Portugal. On the way, there was an ad on the radio for the latest single of Dutch band 'Boyband', which was amusing.

It turns out we have indeed missed the first half, but it's nil all, and apparently Portugal were all over us so possibly just as well we missed it. There are some Irish punters, a Rangers fan, and a Portuguese bloke. John tells Shack that he'll have a hug if Ireland score, this is christened a 'Shack Special'. Suddenly we notice that there is no sign of Ciarán - we fear a catastrophe, judging by his disatisfaction at his abandonment in Moylish at the Varsities. We ring him frantically, to no avail. Thankfully he strolls in soon after, which is a relief.

Ireland start to play well, and eventually Keano scores. We're over the moon, Tony Rangers and Tony Portugal are gutted. Shack Specials all round. Unfortunately our joy is short lived as Figo equalises. Annoyingly, Tony Portugal is wearing a Figo shirt. The match finishes 1-1, but Keano has picked up a booking ruling him out of the match against Estland on Wednesday. Jer tells anyone who listens that this match will be very tough. Patsy humourously (shocker) winds Jer up successfully.

'Barbs' reminds John that they must put up the other tent for Damien and Tony. Bugga.

/der goes to the bar, and in his own inimitable style says to the barman: "it's all good like basically we’re over here for the weekend can we have shots?"

Thus shots of poitín are provided, which was not really what we needed at that point, but nonetheless honour dictated that we drink them. Which we did, though John punished himself by not doing it in one go. Meanwhile Margot et al have returned to bring us back to the hockey club. We prefer to stay in town for a while, for a change of scenery as it were, but this is thought to be rude. Diplomatically, some of the lads return, others stay in Alkmaar.

Outside the pub, we ask directions, and also look at the map. These two sources of information are in agreement that we should turn left to return to the station and Burger Shack. Bizarrely however, Andy and EJ insist it's right. They were completely incorrect, which was nice. Similarly, Hackett expressed doubts about our route, and John and Jim quite enjoyed pointing out the NS (Dutch railway) logo in the distance. John has BK twisty fries, which are delicious, apparently. Jim attempts to create his own twisty fries but the straight fries simply break. Bugga. The lads back in Alkmaar HC are treated to what Eamon described as the "most disgusting dinner in the history of time".

We then buy chocolates for Margot (still feeling guilty), some water, and John buys some Twixes. John and Jim put on a display of shocking immaturity over the carrying of the bag. Jim wins. Ha ha John, ya loser! Jim, Hackett, /der and Jer decide to go back to the club.

We reach the hockey club where most of the girls are insanely drunk after playing the lethal dice game. Basically what happens in this is someone rolls the dice, and almost everyone ends up drinking. Great fun! We all say 'sanks' to Damien for teaching us this. SANKS!!!!!!!!!!!! Susan has decided to have a power nap in the bar.

John, Patsy and 'Barbs' meanwhile decide to go back to the Irish bar where they watch Holland v Estland. Estland are 2-1 up with 12 minutes to go. Tony Estland brilliantly goes past the last defender, the keeper goes to ground, Tony balloons the ball high and wide. Bugga. Holland go on to win 4-2. BUUUUGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAA. After the match, the lads are waiting for a taxi when a very good looking Swedish girl starts throwing herself at John (?). John, obviously taken by surprise, blurts out "You're very nice but I have to go home to pitch my tent!" In the taxi, John rightly receives abuse from Patsy and 'Barbs'.

'Barbs' reminds John that they must put up the other tent for Damien and Tony. Bugga.

The boys reach Alkmaar (John, Patsy, 'Barbs') and return to the tents, stopping to piss on the goal in Veld 2 where Damien missed the sitter. The lads finally put up the feckin' tent that 'Barbs' had been on about all day. Back to the bar, stopping to once again piss on the goal in Veld 2. Ronan catches this moment on camera. Niamh may also have seen it, because she is attributed with the following quote:
"Oh my God, I'd love to be able to whip it out any where!"

The squad is together again, except for Susan (asleep), and of course Andy and EJ whose whereabouts are unknown, but suspected to be their tent. Drinking commences in earnest once again, 'la la la' is played. SJ asks permission from the UCC girls to score with Damien. Permission is granted, and Damien makes spanking-like gestures. We emulate him. Patsy in particular is very good at it. Despite this, Damien goes on to score with SJ.

The girls go drinking their strange Dutch stuff again, leading to The Drunk Jen Lawson Show (thanks to Ronan for supplying this):
Jen had explained to me during the day that she is doing ecology in college and is going to Clare for the summer to work with dolphins. That night I came down the back stairs and Jen came out of the bathroom and joyously proclaimed "Ronan, I've learned to communicate with dolphins - eeeekk, eeeekk". The two of us then joined the crowd outside with Jen still happily eeeekking away to her heart's content. She then bizarrely turned to me a few minutes later and said her discovery could be in vain, because her voice was surely going to break soon! Bizarre? I thought so, until Jen showed me her Adam's Apple. We then mooted the idea that perhaps she was a male dolphin! To test this theory, Jenn proceeded to examine everybody's neck for the presence of an Adam's apple (much to the suprise of some of the girls). Imagine the scene: you're happily drinking away when this drunk girl walks up to you, says "eeeekk" and then grabs your neck! Once everybody's suprise had subsided, we beagn the inevitable mocking of Jenn. During the sing song later, in which we sang every Irish song we knew (and some we didn't) there was a brief silence waiting for some one to start another song. I piped up with the theme tune to "Flipper" and my Limerick namesake joined in with the theme to "Skippy":

"They call her Jen, Jen,
Faster than lightning,
No one you see
Is faster than she,
they call her Jen, Jen,
Jen the bush kangaroo, Jen, Jen.
Jen our friend ever true!"

Weird!

Equally weird is the following quote, attributed to Orla and Lou - not sure exactly when it was said but round about this time is probable:
"A lubricated turtle with a sore toe, watching porn with the sneezing puppet donkey on a separated bed."

A sing-song soon develops, as Ronan mentioned. John has been scoring with Amy upstairs in between exclaiming "COME ON LIMERICK!", but the sound of music lures him downstairs. Cathal and Eamon guide us through 'Ireland's Call', though the only bit we really know is the 'shoulder to sho-oulder' bit. We sing happily for ages, until we are asked to go inside, in case we wake the neighbours! Phil and Jim say 'shack!' to each other in the manner of the whispered 'three', as in TV3.

Once again, 'la la la' is played, and we arrange ourselves on stools/tables etc as is the norm. We stay there after, which is great, as it gives us a brilliant view of the massive brawl that breaks out! It was class, about twenty lads fighting for ages. Great viewing. Eamon speculates this is because the random punters feel that SJ is scoring with the wrong guy. An interesting theory. Jim and Elmer Judge the winners to be the barstaff of Alkmaar MHC. Unfortunately, but hardly surprisingly, the scrap puts an end to proceedings, so we return to the tents. Remco comes down and asks us to be quiet, someone has been stabbed apparently! This is a bit shocking so we all go to bed. Jer and Jim ramble in the tent. Fuck. Eamon has finally realised his tent was a windup and sleeps elsewhere.

Sunday 3rd June
Sunday morning is not quite as much of a nightmare as Saturday, but it's not far off. Nobody has been puking though. All credit to us! Breakfast of ham and cheese sandwiches are no longer tempting and delicious. The PA system (which apparently was on for the entire weekend) is playing a Mel C song over and over and over. Ronan arrives at /der's 4 man expecting to find /der and his gear. As he said himself, there's no way he'd fit himself and gear in his windup tent, so he put it in /der's. Ronan is about to go inside when Damo stretches out his hand and instructs Ronan: "Ronan, go get me coffee, lots please!" (Damien is still sticking to his no-water policy.) Andy and EJ thank Jim and Jer for amusing them with their drunken babbling. Fuck.

We play some random team, Team Tony as it were. John scores a swift hat trick. Tony also scores in our nth 4-0 victory. Ronan bitches about not getting enough of a game. By now, we realise that to avoid the horrors of yesterday morning, drinking between games is the best way to go. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Next up for us is 13 man, but goalieless Primus Erectus. They're fairly shite, but have a cute blonde girl who makes fools of John, Shack and Jim. We win 3-0 (John, John, Tony). (Note: John is the person supplying the details of the matches, shocker.) During this game, Damien says to Ronan, "Ronan - come on for me, I'm clearly too good for this!"

There is an air of confusion as hockey seems to have been thrown into chaos by the brawl last night. By the way, nobody was stabbed after all, either it was a wild rumour that got out of hand, or else it was a cunning plan to fool us into going to bed! Anyway Club2000 refuse to play us, so we play Heren II again. Another enjoyable game, this time a 1-1 draw (Damien). Ronan bitches about not getting enough of a game. Meanwhile, it seems that we have now reached the semifinals.

We return to the bar to prepare. John is talking to his mate Rudi. Rudi explains, "There are 12 mens teams, 2 womens teams. All the men are left holding their dicks, need something to do, so they fight." John is also sitting beside Olympic hero De Noiijer, but only discovers this after De N has left. John is gutted, but he still manages a "COME ON LIMERICK!"

The semi is against the Cambridge lads on the water. We expect to hammer them, so the Leader 'shuffles the pack'. Ronan finally gets a game! Damien says "I want to make fools of them!" We decide not to do an 'oggy', saving it for the final. The match starts and we quickly realise that Cambridge have recruited three ringers who are excellent. The crowd are up for the English bizarrely, they think we are taking it too seriously. John gets abuse from them for repeatedly rounding the crap Cambridge player, Tony Useless as it were. Meanwhile Ronan gets injured after about two minutes and has to go off! Thus we unshuffle the pack and we soon take the lead, John scores his 1,000,000th goal, from yet another short corner. Sadly though Tony Useless equalises for the pseudo-Cambridge lads. /der however comes up trumps with an absolutely brilliant winner to put us through to the final.

Back to the bar, where someone makes the valid point that "Lads, the final could be difficult if we don’t stop drinking!"

We play our strongest team for the final, disappointment for /der after his heroics in the semifinal. The team is Ciarán, Jer, Jim, Patsy, Cathal, Elmer, John, Shack, 'Barbs', Eamon, Damien. We're playing 'Blauwvingers' who we Judge to be a bunch of knobs. They beat our mates Heren II in the other semi. There is an inspirational 'oggy', 'COME ON LIMERICK' and 'Ireland's Call'. Damien is emotional as it is his last game in the famous red of UCC.

Sadly, we concede two near-post goals in the first five minutes, and it's uphill from there. We play well, but don't create much up front. The fickle Dutch crowd are now going for us, as the 'Blauwvingers' lads were taking it extremely seriously, and the crowd realise that we weren't, we were just good. We're not good enough this time though and we concede a third in the second half, in fairness it was an absolutely briilliant goal.

Bugga.

To the bar then, followed by showers etc, then back to the bar for a barbeque - a vast improvement on the previous night's dinner. Next, and extrememly cunningly, there is a free bar for half an hour to get us drunk again as everyone is fairly knackered but if there is free beer for a limited time we will drink if it kills us. Luckily, we survive, and are drunk once again! There are more drinking games which force Cathal to score with Andy, Bueno, Eamon, Susan, and Tony Holland. Photographic evidence of same exists but alas not for public display. Bugga.

The Heren II lads are drinking with us on the balcony (the weather has finally improved). They're actually called Phoenix and are from Utrecht. 'Heren II' means 'Mens' Seconds', it turns out, but they will forever be known as Heren II to us. Jersey swapping begins in earnest, those who didn't follow Jim's advice to bring old jerseys are soon faced with difficult choices, whether to give up our own Alkmaar shirts or not. Ciarán has completely done the dog on it, even bringing a plain black Guinness t-shirt, though all credit to the lad, he manages to get something for it, mainly due to his sleazy sales techniques. Jim manage to get a coveted orange shirt in exchange for a crap Lebowskis shirt which technically belongs to Marcus!

The Heren lads buy n rounds. We all start singing UCC chants, and also the Utrecht song:
"Olé olé, olé olé, forza Utrecht, olé olé!" (to the tune of the verse of 'Yellow Submarine'). One of us attempts to start a chant, which doesn't catch on, and whoever it was is subjected to "On yer own on yer own on yer own, on yer own on yer own on yer o-own" etc. Humourously, one of the Heren lads also attempts to start a song, fails, and all the Dutch lads start "On yer own". We invent the 'Shack Song' to the same tune as 'Olé olé'.

The barman explains that if he rings the ship bell hanging from the ceiling near the bar, someone has to shout 'Free beer!' and more free beer will be forthcoming. Patsy completely does the dog on it: he calls for three beers, the bar man asks 'Frei beer?' Patsy answers 'Free beer?' and starts ringing the bell. The barman duly gives us free beer and regrets it for the rest of the night as everytime we order, say something, move, twitch etc. someone goes hell for leather on the bell screaming "Free beer free beer…."

'Barbs', who is now officially far too nice for his own good, volunteers to give his white Alkmaar shirt to Remco as a token of our appreciation for helping to organise the tournament. This we do, along with the chocolates for Margot who isn't around sadly. Next, Jim assembles the masses for an address on the balcony. Unfortunately nobody really understands Jim as he is too drunk to speak properly. They get the gist of it though, namely that 'Barbs' is great for giving his short to Remco, and secondly, SANKS!!!!!!!!!!!! to Damien for being such a great teammate for the year. This makes Damien cry, which is amusing. More Shack Specials, as everyone is emotional for a short while, then it's back to manly drinking.

Later on, we go inside. We drink more. And more. And more. 'La la la' is the last song of the night. Damien guides John to a shaky bench overlooking the dance floor. They don't fall, which is nice. Taxis arrive to bring us into town, after we arrange to meet the Heren lads somewhere. We end up in a pub on a fairly lively square, where everyone has great fun until 1am when we are forced to leave. Luckily Amy finds out about a club open in town. With official approval from the Leader, the troops are Led there (which involved Jim running from the front of the group to the back several times (about half a kilometre!) for some reason). However there is a problem, Damien, Lou and Sue are missing - they had gone into a different pub, so someone is despatched to rescue them.

We finally reach an empty nightclub where the bouncers take the art of frisking to new levels. Cathal probably enjoys it. UCD Helen decides to score with Tony Holland to secure a coveted hoodie. All credit to the girl. Cathal scores with Sue, who may or may not have been unconscious.

Other vague recollections of the club: there was a fast food place contained within, which was handy. Other than that, I can't remember a thing. Bugga.

We return to the hockey club in taxis, somebody sees some lads walking somewhere which is supposedly somewhat funny. Some go to bed, but bizarrely John then decides to get up, wake Jen Lawson and tap her on the head repeatedly. Soon he tires of this and goes for a piss. On the way back he rings Jim. "Jim, where are you?" "I'm in Tonyville," replies Jim, helpfully.

Some of the Dutch guys who have found a giant inflatable mobile phone. They have somehow secured this to a car and are towing people around the pitch at relatively high speed. It is amusing, but they are making shit of the grass. We watch as Tony Holland hangs on for a while then is usually thrown off on a corner. Jer decides he wants to go for it. The lads oblige, Jer lasts about ten seconds, and returns covered in muck.

We have now well and truly exhausted the options available to us (short of exploring the block of flats across the river), so it is bed time. Jer and Jim have an argument in the tent over Jim's failure to prevent Jer from going on the inflatable phone, which is even more amusing to Andy and EJ than the usual rambling. Fuck.

Monday 4th June
Thankfully there is no breakfast this morning as nobody could face any more ham and cheese sandwiches. We delay the tedious task of putting down our tents as long as possible. Sue wakes up, and noticing Cathal nearby, says "Oh, Cathal! I scored with you last night!"

Unfortunately, though most of our tents have taken a bit of punishment caused by the strong winds, none are sufficiently fucked to cause us to abandon them like Tony Holland. Jer's hammer breaks half way through. This is not amusing for us, but probably for is for Andy and EJ. Fuck.

Once we are all packed, we return to the bar for a few cures. Niamh says goodbye to her fans from Cambridge and Holland. A few random Dutch punters are around, including one very loud bloke. He is soon christened "/dutch /der". Damien mocks him. Our own /der meanwhile has made a female friend and is chatting away with her for ages. In fact, this is the closest any of us have come to getting anywhere with a Dutch bird. All credit to /der. We give the Alkmaar people our email addresses and website information. Damien, while rambling about his Pokémon zoo, is reclining on a table with five cans of beer near his arse.
"Looks like Damien's just shat five cans of beer!" shouts Lou.

Margot and Remco and friends begin the task of transporting us back to the station. Jim John and /der are the last to leave. A photo is taken. The three of us squeeze into Toni Golf's car, a Volkswagen Golf in fact. /der is in the front, and has struck up a conversation with the driver, in the sense that he is rambling in Americanese.
Toni: "So did you enjoy the tournament? Do you think you'll be back next year?"
/der: "yah basically it's all good it was brilliant like i'd say we'll definitely be back i might have exams myself you know like or be chilling out in the states I dunno but it's all good I might have a bit of hassle with exams like but I'd say we'll be back alright"
Jim: "Shack."
/der: "huh?"
Toni: "I think your friends want you to shut up!"

We soon reach the station, and more importantly, BK. Twisty fries for John, who along with Jim gets great mileage out of the /der story. On the train, /der (possibly annoyed at the abuse he's getting) is a bit irritable. John advises him to "take a chi... bullet". Harsh but funny. Meanwhile, the original masterplan of booking the hostel that people stayed in on Thursday for tonight seems to have fallen through. Apparently they don't take advance bookings. Luckily, the Leader leads, in the form of going with 'Barbs' to the tourist information centre in the central station. Everyone else relaxes on the platform. The attractive assistant laughs when we tell her we want accomodation for 30 people, but she takes it in her stride. Jim realises that he's not actually sure how many of us there are, so he returns outside the tourist office and shouts across to the lads who are on the next platform across. They helpfully perform the 'spanking' gesture as immortalised by Damien. Eventually they tell him that there are 29 of us. Andy and EJ have left the group.

Back in the tourist office, it becomes apparent that it's not going to be cheap. Thus, Jim rings John delegating to him the job of soothingly bracing everyone for a price of approximately 100NLG (£36). Luckily everyone is so sick of camping that they are more than willing to shell out that sort of cash. Indeed, the hotel we get comes to ninety somthing guilders, but when Judgment Tax, Leadership Levy, and Jim's Drinking Fund Contribution are taken into account it works out (amazingly) at exactly 100NLG.

John gets a pen and paper and makes a note of the names of people who are giving Jim the cash. This proves problematic when Toni UCD attempt to pay - he knows Amy alright but that's as far as it goes. Similarly, nobody knows Bueno's real name. Jer pays and requests the bridal suite. Armed with a wad of cash, Jim returns to the tourist information place, pays up, and gets directions to the hotel. It is a five minute walk away, conveniently.

Walking to the hotel, we pass another hotel called 'Hotel Jim'. At ours, Jim and 'Barbs' go in and get forms for the leadees to fill out. It emerges that somehow we have lost Niamh, Jenny, and Cathal. The Leader is Angry. Elmer and Jer volunteer to try and find the missing party. A rumour spreads that Cathal lost the group while stopping to buy a hot dog. The Leader is Very Angry. Anyway, in the meantime people pair up. Here is Elmer on his room arrangements:
"We were outside the hotel waiting for Barbs and Jim the Ultimate to sort it all out, someone turned to me and commented on the room I would be sharing with the girlfriend, to which I replied that the girlfriend has opted to share with one of her own random friends. Random question from the crowd: "Trouble then?" and my reply "Oh no, that's why I'm sharing with Barbs!!" To which Johnny christened the Toni Domestic thingy which was funny and made me smile which was nice!"

Jim returns to the leadees with the room keys, which the lovely receptionist has arranged in pairs, with the surnames of the guests written helpfully on the package. Sadly, when Toni UCD gave us their names while collecting the cash, it was their christian names. As such, the Leader would like to apologise for such remarks as 'Tippins?? Who the fuck is Tippins??"

The leadees are instructed to assemble at 6.30 in the bar across the street, then they retire to their rooms, while the Leader and one or two others wait for the search party and/or the missing. A random Dutch woman asks Jim for a light. As is the European custom, Jim attempts to light it for her. He is unsuccessful, so he suggests that she do it herself. She says "Thank you" and fucks off with his lighter. Bugga.

In the hotel, the lads quickly discover the porn. Apparently there is a three minute preview, then the rooms start to be charged. N lads converge on Jim and Jer's room (not the bridal suite) where there is a bloke of impressive girth servicing a lady on the tv. Fortunately, before we have any dilemmas about whether to turn it off or not, Orla Mac arrives. John nearly kills himself changing the channel. We are forced to make do with MacGyver. It is the episode where he has to diffuse a bomb using only a toothpick and some baking soda.

News filters back that the missing punters have arrived.

At 6.30pm, post showers, people meet up in a bar across the street from the hotel. Those who are there avail of the Leader's Round. Others have gone shopping, bizarrely. Drinking commences once again. Elmer keeps appearing and dissappearing. He explains why:
"When we arrived at the hotel in Amsterdam, and I had showered and stuff, I set about finding the girls and in particular to locate my 'Toni D'. As it turned out there was more pressing matters. Der had dissappeared with Lou's gear leaving her shackless, which I initally found ammusing until I saw Lou's facial expression. So I set about trying to find Der. I asked countless people who suggested I try 506. No answer (buggah). I got the slowest lift in the world and went outside to the gathering crowd at the pub to see if anyone knew where Der was, 3 seperate rooms were suggested, given the speed of the lift, all I thought to myself was Buggah. So I returned to Lou on the 2nd floor to see if he has visited yet. No he had not, buggah. So I tried each of the rooms, two on the 4th floor and one on the 5th. No sign. Buggah. Down to the lads at the pub again, reports became confusing. It was suggested to try Eamon's or Cathal's room even though Der was on his own. So I asked the receptionist who displayed amazing patience with my inquiries and in the end she made a list for me of everyone's name and room number. Sanks!!! So off I set with a brief stop at the 2nd floor for updates from Lou. Still no sign. Buggah. I tried the two rooms that were suggested and 506 again. BUGGAH."

Meanwhile, in reception, /der has returned from wherever he was and is talking to the receptionist.
/der:"Basically it's all good I just like you know need a place to crash like all good!"
Back to Elmer's story:
"I returned to the receptionist who I Judge to be an angel! She asked me who I was looking for. I replied Derry Del... She cut me short and burst out  with "Room 506, I just sent him up!"
It seemed out Der had made quiet the impression on the receptionist while informing her that all he needed was a 'place to crash' Luckly Miss O'Hanlon was on hand to inform the receptionist that what he meant to say was that he requied a 'bed'. After finally waking Der, I got the gear, returned it to Lou, and retired to the pub, which was nice."

Arrangements are made for dinner. John knows a steakhouse type place, which conveniently is approximately 50 yards from where we are drinking. Nine of the party head there for a delicious munch. Eamon threatens, in the form of shouting across the quiet restaurant, to undo SJ's top.

A rumour sweeps across the group that all the ATMs in Emshterdem are out of cash, except for the one at the Central Station. Thus, Jim, Jer, Damien, Elmer and Louise go there. There is a Pizza Hut in the station, so after getting cash we dine on pizza on platform 14. Damien creates some sort of order related fuckup, which Jer harps on about for the next two hours. After this slightly bizarre meal, it's time to go to O'Reilly's once again. The large tables in front of the pub are vacant, so we settle down there. What follows was probably the most fun of the tour - three hours of non-stop hilarity.

Highlights include:

• the Bugga Mexican Wave
• the Shack Mexican Wave
• the random Pakistani who walked by - dubbed a 'Shackipaki' by Jim
• Mangers' comments about the freakishly tall (even by Dutch standards) goalie's ears: "Have you got id for those?!"
• Elmer remarking on the steep stairs: "I almost slipped three times." Jim: "So it was like buggabuggabugga?!" Mangers: "Maybe we should cut off Elmer's legs and throw him down the stairs!"
• Lou talking about the psycho sitting next to them on the plane on the way out, who said he had a doctorate in philosophy, but on further questioning said he actually didn't, but could have if he wanted to. Jim: "Sure I could say I have a degree in Shack!" Elmer: "What about a BA in Bugga?"
• Damien to Mangers:  "You are the human form of Sudowodo!!"
• Damien: "Niamh I love your back, Ronan's knees and Johnny's ears!”
• Shack notices that Bueno and Tippins aren't around, which confirms rumours of an imminent reunion. Shack scratches his chin. John dubs him 'Shacklock Holmes'
• Orla and Mangers in hysterics whenever they see a Japanese person
• Jim sees a cute Dutch girl: "Ba mhaith liom dul isteach!"
• the explanation (graphically) of "Blauwvingers"
• singing the Shack Song (Shackator, atronatus, shackarensis, ashackashack)
• doing the Shack Dance (accompanying the Shack Song of course)