The Cast

Matt "Bar Stool" Frewing

John "Nacho Libre" Sayer

Paul "4 Stage" Donohue

Stewart "Diddly Bob" Isherwood

Peter "Dog's Cock" MacAuliffe

Dave "Bush Finder" Carbin

Adrian "The Thumb" McCulloch

Darren "Derrick" Stewart

Peter "Left Behind" Webb

Doug "Blame it on the Dougie" Chapman

Ian "Bring Lewi on!" Lewis

Phil "The Cab Ride" Wells

Dan "Chipper" Frewing

Marek "Can't head, won't head" Jedrejewski

Nick "Poker" O'Donnell

The Story.....

Well the fifth and final installment of Nick's Nympho Tours.....sorry the Old Josephians Football Tour....led us to the beautiful city of Krakow. After chastising everyone about not being late both getting to the airport and meeting me at the airport in Krakow, I naturally turned up 30 minutes late to be greeted with the warm words "You useless c*nt" from Dan Frewing. Having been out in Warsaw with an old friend the night before, I let the dreaded vodka take over and make me miss my train!

We were taken via minibus to our central Krakow hotel - the luxurious Hotel Royale which when shown inside by our guide - the lovely Linka (AKA - Chips and Pitta) - I made the mistake of commenting it was actually quite nice for a 2* hotel which Linka quickly corrected me on saying we were stood in the "3* bit". Apparently the front of the hotel was for 3* guests and the back section via the back door was for peasants, servents and the English. We were then informed (much like Polish construction workers in the UK) it was four to a room so everyone dived into groups of four to avoid having to share with Peter Mac. Quickly throwing our bags in the rooms, we headed down to the hotel bar where Matt, Doug and Scouse decided to settle down for the evening. I managed to convince the others to take the "5 minute minibus ride" 30 minutes across town to do some white water rafting.

We were then shown into a changing room with wetsuits where we realised two crucial things (1) we had one towel between 10 of us (spot the Old Joes education) and (2) half the wetsuits did not have sizes. The next 30 minutes, much like a gay wrestling convention, involved a lot of fat men trying to squeezing into lycra suits. After much sweating and laughter we finally made our way outside for some water fun.

The Old Josephians Gay Wrestling XI................................................................................................Macca struggles to fit his helmet on!

Agey, Dave and David the only gay in the village...........................................................................Wrestler Nacho Libre

The white water rafting course itself was 300m long and we were presented with two lifeboats just as the hailstones came down! Nonetheless we battled on showing a mixture of skill and panic going down the course straight, sideways and backwards. On one occassion when the boat when out of control into the side, I screamed at Dave "Grab that pole!" in the hope he would grab the pole by the path to give us some balance again. Dave promply grabbed hold of our instructor in the boat and we promptly when down the rest of the course backwards.....After the first run we climbed out and headed up to the start. On seeing a portabin loo, Darren dived in for a bit of light relief. Naturally, two guys who shall remain unnamed (but well done Phil and Dave) pushed the portacabin forward on an edge so the glorious juices started the overflow, but not in the way Darren had hoped!

The group (including an enormous Dan??) prepare themselves..............................................The Instructor tells us not to piss or shit in the boat.........

A tentative climb in with a paddle...........................................................................................................The first group tear off down the course

Both groups in full flow on the course......................................................................................................Crashing into a bridge - Grab the Pole!

After the white water rafting we all showered showing the one towel (such team spirit) and were presented by a bottle of vodka by our guide for the journey back to the hotel. After spending 10 minutes trying to open the bottle, everyone enjoyed a swig or two, except that is Dan....

John tries some two handed drinking..........................................................................................Dan struggles to take in the flavour

With no activity planned for the evening, we headed towards the old town to check out the sights and sounds. On route in the minibus we discovered that our driver used to play in the Polish fourth division which caused some excitement in the team, until I explained that the Polish fourth division was about the same as Division 11 South of our league......undeterred we took a wrong turn and accidentally ended up in a lapdancing club. Given we were already there, we decided to stay for a beer and we somehow ended up with the bra of one of the girls in there who must have dropped it. After noticing that the biggest tits in the place belonged to Matt Frewing, we headed on to an Irish Bar, confident in some heavy duty manly behaviour. After an hour or so, we did notice a distinct lack of women in the place and that the locals in there were very friendly...perhaps they were white water rafters as well? Anyway, we continued drinking and in a effort to forget we were surrounded by some crafty butchers we used up the rest of the whip buying repeated sambuca shots whilst the bar owners drowned out the sound of mincing with some quality tunes which got the group singing and Macca doing his bar dives.

John pays for a private dance with Matt......................................................................................Matt the gets the sambuca shots flying with Lewi

Lewi and Stewart break out into full voice.............................................................................................Stewart, Macca and John hit the high notes......

Stewart enjoys the local brew.............................................................................................................Before his bottle mysteriously dissapears........

Group cuddle and cheesy smile....................................................................................................Phil has a lick as Stewart completes the sandwich

Macca entertains the pub with a bar dive which Darren catching him with his eyes closed.......................................I point the way to the next bar

There were two signs that the evening was drawing to a close. One, that Matt collapsed to the floor unaided and when four of us, yes it took four, got him to his feet he claimed he has seen a "bar stool" and had gone for it. Second, and more importantly, we saw the four stages of Donnie....

.............................................Stage 1 - Eyes Wide Shut.........................................................................................Stage 2 - The Droop....................

...............................................Stage 3 - The Hang...........................................................................Stage 4 - The Sambuca Recovery...........................

Everyone made it back to their hotel rooms (except Donnie who slept on the floor in the wrong room) with Macca (an ardent Millwall fan) having a Palace shirt pushed under his face as he slept so much to the amusement of the group, he spent the night kissing the Palace badge as he slept.

We very wearily gathered on Friday to kick start our trip. Some stayed in bed, some had a few quite beers in the old town town square and Asian Dave....sorry Age and Dave....decided to drink a bottle of red wine each and then join the others for beers. Dave turned up looking like Heath Ledger in Batman with two red marks on the side of his mouth but given the stag in the english group adjacent to us had pissed himself, we felt Dave was fairing well.....a brief trip to the local toilets also revealed a somewhat alarming expectation of those people using toilets in the Old Town...

Er....feel free to throw up and then use hosepipe to clean up.........................................................If taking a dump becoming too tiring, have a break

After an afternoon on the sauce, I felt the group were ready to face some local cuisine so I booked us into a local Polish restaurant. We enjoyed a delightful sample of starters including herring, beetroot and some weird raw meat shit. Everyone ordered their main courses which included deer, tenderloin and pork choice specialicies and with the wine and beer flowing, Agey Boy gave a rousing speak and thanks, we met my cousin from Poland and the guide and headed on to our guided pub crawl.

An afternoon of recovery in the sun...........................................................................................................Agey Boy gives a very big thumbs up

We hit a few underground bars and pubs where in the first bar Macca set light to his pubic hair (why?) and in the second bar we ordered about two thousand blue shots. The barman poured these out delicately to a precise measure then Stewart (quite easing the most pissed of everyone in the group) was tasked was carrying the shot tray round and handing out the shots. With the floor quickly turning blue from all the spilt shots, we quickly necked down our allocation.

Macca enjoying the afterburn sensation........................................................................................A trayful of shots (for Stewart to spill everywhere)

It was not long before the mood in the bar turned to dancing and two lovely ladies got up on the bar and starting dancing. In the dance euphoria, a drunk overweight english bloke joined them, and much to the horror of onlookers, took his top off and started gyrating.......

Two lovely locals get down and boogie................................................................................................A drunk Brit gets semi naked and gyrates

After the second bar, we hit a local nightclub where Dave and Donnie were the first casualties by heading back early. Donnie tried repeatedly to give me the room key but finally conceded after I convinced him that as he was going back first he may actually need it......the rest of the group danced and partied on. Marek stayed out the latest with the guide drinking vodka and hitting further clubs. When asked how he got on, a clue came from the reply "When we got into one club, I was so drunk I could not remember why or how I was there, so I went home". On getting back that night, punishment was headed out to those who had slacked off early in the form of a gentle awakening with water........

Ah, bless Lewi all fast asleep and dreaming of naked men.........................................................................................wake up you twat!

Donnie is full of rage at the sight of being soaked....................................................................Macca rolls over to reveal somewhat odd bedtime clothing

Saturday was the day of the big game. We were driven to a local 7-a-side astroturf pitch where a local team greated us. Our tactics of pass and move were 50% effective. We passed, nobody moved. After 20 minutes we were 4-0 down with Macca screaming "Coconut shy! Coconut shy! Have a go!". Just as it seemed all was lost, a hopeful cross into the opposition box came down to Matt Frewing. With pedestrians in the adjaent streets diving for cover and the rest of us wondering if we would get the ball back, in a Pele-esque Escape to Victory moment, Matt volleys the ball into the top left hand corner. A split second of stunned silence and choking on food and drink is quickly followed by a huge roar of approval. Suddenly, the comeback is on. "Hutch, Hutch, I think we can do it!" comes the cry as we rally ourselves. One minute later it is 5-1 and the cry is "Sod it! Substitution!". We battle on for the rest of the game with Phil the Ponce, Lewi and Marek getting on the scoresheet but the oppostion are relentless and we go down 10-4.

...............................................The mean machine...................................................................................an early strike to test the ballboys.........

.....................................John runs into space (minus the ball)............................................................and is promptly substituted.................

Every team needs strength on the bench (and we were no exception)............................Matt uses all his powers of concentration to hoof the ball clear

If in doubt get your two biggest players to sandwich their best player.....................................................Matt falls in love with a pole........

Marek uses his heading skills to head absolutely miles off target...................................................................Darren breaks free to try his luck.....

Vision, guile and skill as I pass the ball out of play.............................................................................Macca does his war dance.......

Exhausted and demoralised, we then have the added issue of the changing room key going missing. After asking Agey if it was in his bag, Agey dutifuly spends 10 minutes going through his stuff before then realising it was in his pocket all along.....after much verbal abuse we get changed then head back to the hotel where we head to a sports bar to watch the England game. Everyone regroups at 18.30 sharp for the surprise part of the tour. I have hired our own private tram complete with music and beer to tour the city with. We all climb aboard and set off.....then notice that Scouse (in spending a quick penny) has not bordered the tram. Despite our waving and laughter he fails to notice us driving off into the distance.....on route Macca gets very excited in seeing a poster that has a dog's cock with a full on (think he thought it was a self portrait).

Linka prepares herself for the tram ride.......................................................................................Macca entertains the troops with some dirty dancing

....................................Excitement over a stiff dog's member.....................................................................which gives Macca the horn.........

We started the final evening with a meal in the beautiful old town square. As it got a bit nippier some of the "men" wrap themselves in blankets with Lewi looking like a wotsit and the ever cool Doug looking like a slightly camp university lecturer.......we then headed onto a casino where I won £140 in poker and Dan called the pontoon dealer a "jammy c*nt" every second hand.

.......................................The orange wotsit that is Lewi...........................................................................the sophicated and camp Doug................

Sunday saw the battle-weary boys drift to the airport amid promises from Macca of a tour next year to Cork. Irish blarney? Time will tell.....

THE END