Surveys prove that more police sirens are heard per hour in Hastings than any other seaside town in the UK. The survey goes further and shows that the peak in the use of these sirens coincides with the last weekend in
June. Now, this could be that during this weekend there is an invasion of Chas 'n Dave fans eager and willing to see their idols in concert on the pier. Or that the aged contestants entering the Hastings Open Crown Green
Bowling competition are about to run riot along the sea front. It could be that the 'ravers' at the Chatsworth, unable to control themselves on mind altering drugs, are causing an uncontrollable melee. However it could just be that Kings have come to town!

Yeap, its that time of year again, when the Lansdowne Hotel's most prestigious guests come to town. In various dribs and drabs the team rolled through the Sussex countryside to that most run down of seaside resorts. Hastings is often sited in reports as one of the post depressed areas of the South East. For one year a weekend, the takings of the Lansdowne and various drinking and eating establishments go through the roof. On the basis of the money spent the year before the Lansdowne had a make over, removing the old bench style seats in the bar and replacing them with nice 'tacky' black leatherette armchairs and sofas. It even managed to stretch to some fake wood paneling around the walls. When we arrived a printed note on the door stated SORRY, HOTEL FULL. Well, no worries there, we knew some quick ways to empty it.

Good news greeted us though, the hotel had now employed a night porter who would man the bar for as long as it was required to be open (excellent news!),however we soon found out how the hotel intended to pay for this extra service. Let me explain. Well, if you charge 25 quid a night pppn and fit 3 to a room its 75 quid a night. So why not put six in a room and get 150 quid! Anybody visiting the Smut/Murph/Pipey room would have found three metal bunk beds enabling the room to take 6. It looked like something straight out of a Army National Service barracks. It soon became apparent why this had happened. Tiggy had made our usual booking with the hotel (for the 5th year in a row), and the Lansdown had also taken a large booking from a wedding party, so how better to make sure you can take both bookings? Yeah, stitch up a bunch of blokes by shoving them in bunk beds and save on the number of rooms used, bet your arse not one of the wedding party slept in a bunk bed!

The tour got off to a great start when Oz remembered that he had left the
dare sheets back at home and would need a mercy mission from Sven to get
them Saturday morning. Of the Friday arrivals, all but the Skip, met in the hotel bar and then headed off for a curry. By all accounts the beers were flowing quickly and when fresh ones were called for they arrived warm. When challenged by 'Diplo Dave' why they were warm the response was that the boys were drinking them too fast for them chilled! Gash ended up leaving with a memento from the curry house, some sauce all over the sleeve of his shirt....very like the infamous "I no pay" incident a few years back, trouble was this sauce wasn't split by a waiter but by a team member.......does anybody want to own up......Nick???

After the curry Ming and Oz set off apparently back to the hotel to find the 'Skip'. The others went to Yates', although Bod and Gateaux were seen heading in the direction of a snooker hall (wow...the excitement!). The Skip meanwhile was sat in the bar awaiting news of where the other were. Eventually Gash, Wrighty, Julf and Smut turned up at the Lansdowne, but there was no sign Ming or Oz! A search party then set off to find Bod and Gateaux but a search of the snooker hall proved fruitless. So off to Yates' and sod the other. Surprise, surprise the missing four were located well on the way in Yates'. Whilst we were in there the first few attempts were made to get their hands on a good pub trophy, this ranged from menus. pump labels and also a brass door knob! (more of this later). Then it was off to......yes, that Mecca of nightspots, G-Spot! En-route Ming lost his curry, whilst 'Wrighty' proudly showed off his brass knob, which was quickly snatched off him by the now recovered Ming and thrown over a near by hedge. So you could say Ming "yanked Wrighty's knob and tossed it over a bush"!

G-Spot was....well, what possible words could you use to describe it. The
average age seemed to have dropped to early teens and the best entertainment was derived from watching Gash and Wrighty pole dance! There
was the sight of one local lad crashing to heap at the bottom of the stairs, what a state he was in. Most drifted away back to the hotel long before the club closed. Upon arrival back we found Oz and Ming fast asleep in bed whilst Gateaux was keeping some of the wedding guests company, things turned a little noisy in the bar, which ended up with us being reprimanded for being noisy. The wedding guests had complained about us (they had driven down from Newcastle and the like and were shattered) which was a little out of order.

Next morning the Skip, Gash and Wrighty attended breakfast in their boxer shorts, in the process completing one of their dares. Everybody made it down to breakfast and all but Bod managed to eat it! Then it was off to the crazy golf course where battle commenced, accept Gateaux who went to buy up the contents of the souvenir shops. Despite vast allegations of cheating and the unwanted coaching comments from Gateaux, the contestants successfully completed the challenging course and Wrighty emerged the valid winner. A slow wander back to the hotel via the town was accompanied by ice-creams and the joke shop where some new 'tour awards' were acquired. In due course the Bish and Sven turned up to join the party.

When the time came to depart for the ground their was mass confusion as the
wedding party and us had cabs booked for the same time, but we all arrived
at the the right place, and in time to do battle. The game (see match report) saw Kings dominate the game, but unable to turn their dominance into a victory. With no transport the Hastings boys were kind enough to squeeze us into their cars and get us to their social club. Here the beer flowed freely and the awards presented, including the new 'Clown of the Town' award which Nick accepted in good cheer. The only down points of the evening were the lack of food and that the snooker/pool tables were jam packed. At 11 we got the cabs back to the hotel, and 'hank marvin' headed for the kebab shop. We took over the bar but were eventually over numbered by the rather worse for wear Northern wedding party. That night strange events took place, including problems with the beds, lift, and vanishing bar trophies, we could only assume the wedding party were getting some sort of revenge!

Next day after a good nights kip, especially in Bish and Sven's room, Smut,
Bod and Gateaux were up early and breakfasted before the others were out of
bed. Julf, Oz and Ming completed their dare, parading their boxers shorts at breakfast. Whilst Wrighty arranged extra sausages and beans for most of the teams breakfast. Golf that day was on the 'high' level course with all the team taking part. Despite the best attempts of the some of the team to play seriously Gash and Bod were just not in the mood for it and did their best to sabotage the holes before the others played them. There was also some collusion on the scorecard that eventually saw Sven declared the winner, robbing Julf (the true winner) of the cash!

Checked out and cars loaded, we set off in a convoy of six cars on the long
journey to Shere. The journey took a good two hours but we just about made
it in time for the game. The match itself saw one of the most hilarious incident any of us have seen, In the middle of his spell, Sven, came running in, and in his delivery stride tripped over his feet and crumbled to undignified heap on the pitch. It was so funny! In the field we dropped 7 catches, but the end result was a good win (see match report).

After the game the awards were dished before nine of us retired to the rather quaint local pub, where we had the restaurant manager running around the village to find us eggs to go with our 'ham,eggs and chips'. We only got one egg each instead of two but we pushed for pineapple instead, which Wrighty wanted to know if it was tinned or fresh! Fed, watered and knackered we said our good-byes and made our way home after yet another great tour! Great credit to Oz and Nick for their organising and for all who attended and entered into the spirit of tour.......and, in case you were wondering nobody was brave enough to dash from the hotel in the nudy and grab a pebble, if anybody had been brave enough they would have found no way down to the beach opposite the hotel and could have been hearing the police sirens from inside the car instead of out.

Bob