French Trip
In order to give us a taste of culture the school I went to ran an annual French trip for sixth formers. Obviously this always became a debauched and drunken outing. The year this was stopped and myself and friend were subsequently banned from any further school trip is what I thought I'd write in about.

Setting off at 5am on a coach bizarrely none of the teachers minded that a number of people started drinking. By 9am having reached Dover, everyone was drinking. Upon getting to Calais, we went to the Hyper Market to stock up... with by now some fairly pissed 16-18 year olds. I genuinely can't remember what time we arrived at Le Torquet (I'm fairly sure that's what is was called)... but by that point, we'd all turned into a drunken ramble ready to give the Brits another glowing report abroad.

Some of the more sober girls actually managed to go and do a bit of shopping. Whilst the rest of us descended as a roaring mass on a bar crawl. Amazingly though even with football chants ripping through their town about shagging their women and drinking their beer, all was pretty good natured.

One of the more handsome lads had gone off with a local girl and in haste of looking for somewhere "quiet" had managed to fall over with beer glass in hand and practically severe his thumb meaning one of the teachers had to take him off to hospital.

Mean while the remaining teachers seemed fairly blasé about our antics. That was until it was time to leave. Someone had thought it a good idea to steel the cue ball off the pool table in the last bar. This ended up with a number of disgruntled locals surrounding the coach yelling and not letting us leave. Eventually the culprit sheepishly handed it over... but by now we were running late, so no stop off on the way back!

Well no scheduled stops. One of the girls started throwing her guts up half way back; this started others off too including myself.
Eventually the coach driver had to stop because half the bus were blowing chunks.

We were now on the brink of missing the ferry though. But it wasn't until we got to French customs that me and my friend landed ourselves in it.

Yes those friendly Gaelic officials were checking all coaches, so we thought that we had better confess that neither of us had passports on us. See it wasn't that we had lost them, no it was simply a case that we didn’t bring them at all. Both being boarders we'd left them with the House Master for safe keeping, however having not collected them the previous evening we quickly saw that waking up the House Master at 4:30am would likely get us told that we weren't going anywhere... so we'd chanced it.

Now, I was fairly lucky. I sat by the window, pretending to sleep and was ignored. But Sach being the one of only two people from an ethnic minority was of course singled out. After patting himself down helplessly, he was marched off of the coach. 2 hours later we were all allowed to go on to the next ferry. With one of the teachers screeching that I should be left with Sach and let our parents sort it out - which was nice. Eventually they had to phone the British Embassy to sort it out see Sach's mum was born in India, his Dad in Uganda and best of all he himself was born in Germany (his Dad being in the RAF)... but obviously he's got a British passport.

So needless to say that was the last French trip.

Jesus I do waffle on.
( @><|= w0nu!) or cunt to my friends, Wed 13 Dec 2006, 17:28, Reply)