Sunday

On Sunday it's no surprise that we wake up late, although The Kiwi, The Space Cadet and I listen to Neil Young for a good two hours before Mowgli even moves from the brown stain he's beeen sleeping in on my bed:







Neil Young is great Sunday morning music. It's pretty much great music anytime. You just have to watch you don't start feeling too sorry for yourself while you're listening to it. Luckily it's interspersed with flashbacks of the previous nights adventures and The Cadet and I telling tales to The Kiwi.

Eventually, The Cadet needs to head back to Amstelveen and The Kiwi heads of to knock his hangover out on a kick boxing bag. For want of something better to do, I wake up Mowgli and we get showered espressoed and porridged before heading off into town for a wander about. It feels strange to be putting on jeans, as it;s my first time not in a kilt since Thursday night.

We decide to walk into town. It seems like the perfect activity to ease our hungover heads and slacken off our danced out feet. We talk with pride of how we turned the party around last night and how we were almost definitely the best dressed in the place.

Once in town, and after wandering around the red light district, we eventually hear from the girls. We arrange to meet them on Leidseplein. We're there anyway so have a wee while to wait.

While we're waiting, we watch the little Argentinean man who does tricks with a football which can only be described as advanced keepie upie. He's slowly warming up and gets better and better, climbing lampposts while bouncing a ball on his head, etc. etc.

Once he has an audience, he starts to play with the crowd, passing to them. Telling them stories of his training with Maradonna back in Buenos Aires. It's pretty good fun, and he has good patter. At one point he starts on a tourist and asks him where he played such bad foot ball;

England.

The previous week, England beat Argentina at football, so he has a real go at him. The guy can't walk away when his mates are there, so he has to just stand and take it. We really enjoy it.

When the girls arrive, it's clear that lying in bed late, then eating porridge and espresso is a far better way to deal with a late night than getting up and playing volleyball. Tempers are frayed and eyes are bleary.

We pick up some falafal....



....and some chinese...



.....then head back to the flat for a relaxing night i front of the stereo. We crack open a bottle of wine, enjoy some quality cheeses with oatcakes and then make our way through a few episodes of Fawlty towers.

We finish the night by watching the Jane's Addiction 1997 tour DVD. It's a good one to have in the background, cos it doesn't make sense even if you do try to keep up with it.

We again fall asleep to Camp Freddy.....

Uggggg I need to work tomorrow. Back to normality....