September 10, 2008
PHOTOS WILL BE LOADED LATER WHEN I GET THE RIGHT CORD.
This place is bloody weird and I mean wierd in a funny way, not the unusual way. As soon as the feet touched down I was winging it to my hotel and seeing as Rowan decided to tag along we had to do some room changing. Rowans been here a few times before so it was pretty good, as he knew where to go and what the transport systems were like. Even so, we still needed to ask a few people where to go. But once we got to the hotel, we learned pretty quickly that the hotel was a dump and the hotel porter guy was an idiot, but we showered up and went out into the RED LIGHT DISTRICT.
F&*^, this place is out there, and I mean out there. every where you look there are women in skimpy gee’s, bikinis, nothing on, in windows showing off their trade. There are areas where you may want Fat chicks, Asians, Black Chicks, or any type of chick you may want, all you had to do was ask for it. It’s unreal, you are walking down the street and there are red lights over little doors and I must say some of the women are stunning, yet ask yourself, is this their day or night job. As your walking around, there are hundreds of people here and alot of couples who are taking in the sights as well. What the hell would you talk about to your wife as your walking through this area, ” what do you think of that one there dear, nice pussy don’t you think”. Bloody hell, you can tell this is my first time here and it’s just a maze of back street alleyways and little passages leading down to all areas of Amsterdam. The girls come out and tempt you with little dances and hip thrusting, it’s an art to get you into the little room with a single bed and red lighting. You can see everything from that door way, and when the curtains across, someone has just been fleeced of 50 euro.
Anyway enough of the red light stuff, The canal trip was pretty good, with a leisurely trip around the out skirts of Amsterdam. There is alot of history here as well, and as you look at some of the buildings you can see that they are either sinking, or leaning over. They say that the ground is giving way under them and that it is just a matter of time before some of them will topple. Now there are bikes everywhere here, and I hired one for a few hours and it was a really easy way to get around. but you have to get in the right lanes and keep looking left and right. don’t take anything for granted as the tram will have you. it took me a little time to get into the groove but once I got into a line of bikers, I couldn’t get out and ended up on the out skirts of the city, shit. Took me three persons, one policeman and a guy selling coke to get back to the centre station. But I did make it around the streets and the biking proved to be a hit with me. I enjoyed the biking better than the tram or boat rides. The bike gives you more control of where you want to go and when you want to stop. But everyone here rides bikes. You see all types of bikes as well, with little baby’s in boxs on handlebars, to three or four kids on one bike being pedalled by the parent. it’s a great way to see amsterdam and if I get a chance tomorrow I’ll be doing it again. As for Rowan, NOT BIKE FOR HIM, he was not going to have a bar of it so went back to the hotel to do some work. Its around 7 pm here at the moment and I’m about to take a shower and head out again. I’ve managed to have spare ribs in all the places I’ve visited so far, including today for lunch and I’ll admit that the best ones I’ve had so far would have been in San Francisco. The ones we had today are a very close second and maybe even a draw, but we’re outagain tonight to find another canal cruise which takes us around the inner city side. well best get my arse moving. ECM signing out.
September 7, 2008
PHOTOS TO FOLLOW.
The last game is over and I’ve managed to come through this tournament with a sore nose, shagged left knee and enough black bruises to make me look like a Dalmatian. But the last game proved a real test of courage. we started off doing pretty well, but the Scots had other ideas of how the game would play out. Their back line fast and furious proved a hand-full with a fly half weighing in at 18 stone, and all in the belly, was carving up our line like a hot knife through butter. I’d opted to take the second half of the game and watched with anticipation at the boys, forging forward heads down in battle. Stevie Shaw GPRC, was doing his best to tackle everything in his path, and if it wasn’t in his way, he’d chase it down until he caught it. Rowan just did what Rowan does, picks up the ball and smashes you out of his way. these guys are fun to play rugby with and their work load far out weighted any of the others. For me, I’m the pretty boy of the team and yelled encouragement from the sideline until I was called upon to take over yet another injured oldie, this time a puffed out golden oldie at fly half. Don’t be mislead with the name golden oldie, this game was anything but. Pride was on the line and we wanted a win to prove to our American playing buddies we as Kiwi’s were well worth the trouble it took to get us to Edinburgh. The game see-sawed from side to side, puffing and complaining about the referee calls was always on the cards, but we pushed on to be level in the second quarter.
The second quarter was just as intense as the first. Jim (the lawyer) the team captain taking the ball at the kick off goes to ground and the forwards power forward. Buzz the half back feeds the ball through the backs and before you can blink, we are over in the corner. We battle back and forth until finally we are down by one try. In the last dying minutes of the game we needed to peg that try back. Steve takes the ball forward and as usual Rowan is on his left side clearing the path like a gladiator on HEAT. (not sure what a gladiator on heat looks like, but it sounds good). I’m already on the deck looking up at the ball as it heads north towards the wing. Oh no, 12 second Bob Coyne is on that wing, I’m screaming internally, “you better score Bob or your bloody dead”. The ball reaches 12 second Bob, and my GOD, he catches it and is running for the line. With 12 second Bob heading for the corner, the hornets are zeroing in on him and I see they are wanting some honey, and 12 second Bob just happens to be the flower with the nectar. I’m starting to get worried as I see the vapour trail of the Scottish hornets as the cross hairs on their sights are narrowing. The first Sottish hornet reaches out and is a malt Scottish whisky whisper away from bringing down the 8 stone Bob (wringing wet that is). Then from out of no where, the after burners came on and the little wirey 12 second Bob, was off, veering to the right he dives and the try is scored (THE MYTH IS DEAD, LONG LIVE THE NEW MYTH).
Everyone is relieved especially Bob as he can now keep his testicles. (we won’t go there). The ref calls full time and once again the back slapping and cheers of laughter return to the valley. I cannot help but be proud of this day, as I’ve watch and played with old men, such as myself, as we stand in the cold, in the middle of Edinburgh and reminisce about the last 60 minutes of great runs, and fair play. The chortle of who provided the best tackle or tactical attack comes from the banter between the backs or forwards. The demeanour of post war analysis will always play a part of the rugby language, each story changing with grandeur as the caught fish gets bigger as the fisherman tells the tale.
TODAY has been a great day and the team dinner tonight will be had with alot more huff and puff. any way must go….ECM
September 5, 2008
Funny,,,,been in Edinburgh less than a week and asked if I knew where some place was…..even more funny was that I actually knew where it was. Has to be the fact that I’ve walked these streets so much in the last couple of days that I’ve become quite acqainted with the area. Anyway I’ll see what happens tomorrow….ECM out.
