Mad Dogs and Englishmen Tour – Narbonne 2009

Vendredi

Brentwood’s intrepid touring party arrived at Ebbsfleet international station at the ridiculous hour of 6.30am on Friday morning. Some fun with the ticket barriers later and everyone was safely through into the waiting lounge for the Eurostar, eager to get tour under way. And as soon as we were on the Eurostar under way tour got!

Due to worry of not making it through passport control in tour attire everyone had to get changed on the train, turning the aisle down the middle of our carriage into some kind of catwalk. Costumes that stick in mind were those of Rocky and Joel as 118 men, Dibbo’s Geri Halliwell tribute which left nothing to the imagination, James Payton as Robin Hood, Bill and Will as egg and bacon and Lewis in his English gentleman get up (which rumour has it is just what he usual wears to doss around the house in) but, for the second year running, the Chambers contingent stole the show on the fancy dress front as Maggie Thatcher, Prince Charles, The Queen and their butler all piled down the carriage. And then the drinking began and no, it wasn’t even 9 o’clock but then perhaps it’s never too early to be pimms o’clock!

Upon arrival in Paris the French weren’t really sure what had hit them, especially when the first ‘fore’ call was bellowed on the platform and all 52 of us hit the deck. After having to pose for several photos and practically bringing the station to a standstill the Brentwood touring party piled onto the metro to make it across Paris for a few beers and a spot of lunch in the sun outside Gare du Lyon. Lewis had a quick dance off on the way to the TGV, ever seen a 19 stone prop forward do the worm? I hadn’t either and let me tell you, it’s quite a sight to behold!

With everyone safely on the TGV and nobody lost in Paris you’d think it’d be plain sailing from then on. What we hadn’t banked on is encountering a little bit of French resistance, seems singing is not the done thing on French trains…although Leeroy did find one nutty Frenchman who seemed to like us being there, shame about everyone else on the carriage. After a stern word or two Brentwood made it to Montpellier with no further mishaps but only 5 minutes to disembark and find the connecting train to Narbonne…panic ensued but somehow the train was found and the last leg of the journey was upon us. In this leg the tour shirts were given out, white ones for the males and pink ones for the females; myself, Jodie, Sam ‘Tarquin’ Morgan and Chris ‘Lady Boy’ McCarthy. Apart from Luke having to retrieve his hat from the line upon disembarking (with his umbrella Dee don’t worry, he didn’t leap on the track) no further mishaps occurred and we were safely met by Frank, Frances and families outside the station.

Fortunately they’d organised a coach, there’s not a chance we’d have made it to the hotel otherwise and whilst the rooms were being organised more wine and beer flowed freely. As Hanse would say, happy days! Of course the alcohol didn’t help in trying to remember your 6 digit room code, these were to prove fun over the weekend with it being rare for anyone to take less than ten minutes to manage to get into their room.

As the evening arrived Brentwood piled into Narbonne town and varying groups went their separate ways on the hunt for food, a smallish group of us finding a nice restaurant where Luke passed the time waiting for food telling dead baby jokes (classy), adopted Bassenger Sam Fry took his younger brother role very seriously and spent the main course flinging olives on my plate and Keith enjoyed watching everyone else eat before he eventually got his. All parties later reconvened at ‘La Rive Gauche’, a bar I’m lead to believe is owned by a former Narbonne player, where the party well and truly got started. Glass of rosé? No thanks we’ll have the bottle…Demand for alcohol got so high that Pratley had to give the bar staff a hand at some point during the night, hopping behind the bar to mix up a few lethal drinks, the boys had a bit of a dancing session which disintegrated into waving their shirts round their heads and if there was one person left sober I’d be very surprised.

Sources tell me the taxis on the way back to the hotel were also a wonderful experience, the pick of the cab rides being the one containing Ollie Brooks who tried to direct the cabbie to middle earth and then offered to pay in Aztec gold…Once back most people retired to their rooms, even if it took 20 minutes to get in them, although there were still some goings on, Leroy’s antics probably best being consigned to the ‘what goes on tour stays on tour’ file!

Samedi

Saturday began with wonderful tales of the many chundering players from the night before, Sam Fry apparently winning understatement of the century hands down with his cool “Bill, I think Will’s in a spot of bother,” as Will failed to withhold the contents of his stomach…nice. Bryn was also spotted looking a little stiff, having slept on the bathroom floor all night, a large inconvenience to Napoleon who’d had to go down to reception to go to the loo in the morning.

Somewhat miraculously everyone made it on to the 10am coach bound for somewhere deep in rural south France, even if a few were the worse for wear. The boys even kindly dedicated a song to Karl, the lyrics of which I won’t put here since this is a family site…When we eventually arrived at wherever it is we were we were greeted by Frank and Frances again who, much to the boys dismay, had arranged a training ground for them and much to the adults joy had sorted a café for breakfast. A few beers for breakfast later and the boys arrived looking a little hot and bothered and in Luke’s case flattened (an unfortunate mishap concerning Pratley, or so I’m told). Ollie told a few tales, notably of Matt ‘Van Helsing’ Gray the vampire layer which had myself, Jodie and Swampy in hysterics and then someone spotted the river. Sam Morgan was more than eager to go skinny dipping and wild horses couldn’t have stopped him as he legged it down to the bank. The rest of the boys followed soon after, although they chose to keep their dignity and go in shorts/boxers. Unfortunately nobody could coax Rocky near enough to the water’s edge for what would have been a classic ‘Rocky you’re fat and I’ll throw you in the river’ moment.

After a bit of swimming and a stupid game involving an eyeball being dropped in your drink and Rocky shouting out the seconds you had to down your drink in so loudly most of Narbonne could hear the first court session was called. (And as a quick aside during this game I was stabbed in the back by my very own ‘friend’ Jodie who decided to chuck the eyeball in my wine) Le Juge (judge for our non-French speakers) this year was Bill who’d gone to town on the judge’s outfit, having one made to measure and a proper wig. Up in court were the Doble's, Eagleton's, Payton’s, Adams and Riley’s for various accusations including sleeping and disappearing neither of which were permitted under tour rules. Punishment wise EDR was made to wear a lovely white skirt and onions and Bill was made to wear the Virginia Wade tribute costume of a white tennis dress and frilly red knickers since their offences were deemed to be the worse. They then joined the rest, all having been found guilty of course, in a relay race. This was never going to be your average relay and involved using a French baguette as a baton, downing a glass of champagne with a whole tinned tomato in to begin with them running round with your head on a pole in a circular motion three times. Slightly dizzy you then set off on your run, at the half way point reaching some especially smelly French cheese of which you had to eat a small block. It was then a flat out foot race to the end and back where the baton was passed on but the next person couldn’t start until the dreaded gorilla snot was downed. Gorilla snot is a delightful mix of Baileys and lime and gets its name since the lime makes the cream in the Baileys curdle. Lovely. Court adjourned it was pizza all round and then back to swimming for the boys. Which is when disaster occurred for more and more frequent tour sicknote Elliot as an unfortunate accident with a rock left him with a badly severed foot. Off to hospital he went and the insistence on all the boys having insurance was looking like a wise one!

Pizza, Beers and swimming later Brentwood all piled back on to the coach to head off to the Beziers v Narbonne game in Beziers. This was a 2^nd division game, the equivalent of which in England would attract a crowd of 1 man and his dog, was somewhat of an eye opener as there were at 7,800 supporters (or so Beziers’ website says) in a stadium which would put a lot of the premiership grounds to shame. Whilst the rugby may not have been of the highest of standards, Beziers and Narbonne both being in danger of being relegated, there were some exciting patches and of course a few scuffles! And if that didn’t keep you entertained the 7,748 mad French people in the crowd did, Ian picking up tips aplenty for frustrated gesticulations when the team drops the ball, butchers an overlap etc.

Back on the coach and straight into Narbonne after the game. Or it should have been but we won’t go into that hey Trev? So back at the hotel everyone freshened up and then piled into the fleet of taxis that had been ordered to reconvene in Narbonne. Again everyone parted for dinner, Ian in particular having an enjoyable meal of raw egg. According to the waiter, eggs are exceptionally tricky to cook. As you can imagine Ian was very understanding…he was still moaning about it back in ‘La Rive Gauche’ where Friday night’s drinking was continued.

At some point during the night the boys decided to raid the charity bags of the town (as you do) and came back with all sorts of wonderful outfits, notably Pratley’s rave jacket and Nathan and Ollie’s dresses. Nathan then decided to try his luck with some of the girlfriends of the Narbonne rugby players who were also in the bar in said dress. Considering how large they were it could have ended very very badly, fortunately they just laughed at him and sent him on his way. Elsewhere a couple of the other boys had managed to pick up a couple of French girls and dark horse Mark was whirling a French lady round on the dance floor. As the night wore on one of said French girls managed to arrange a fleet of taxis to take everyone to either the hotel or a local night club somewhere deep on the industrial estate. As I opted to go back to the hotel I only have word of mouth to go by with regards to the night club which I know is a complete let down for a reporter as intrepid as myself but it’d been a long day! This night though a legend was born in The Door, Brentwood’s handiest weapon in getting drunken teenage boys into French nightclubs. Rumour has it initially the boys were refused entry, apparently a smashed Nathan wearing a dress didn’t comply with the club dress code, and then in stepped The Door. Calmly enquiring what the problem was the entire mob were allowed in promptly, some even making it into the VIP area later on in the night! Moral of this story? No one messes with The Door.

Back in the hotel someone had a crate of Strongbow and a small group of us were left sitting in reception. After a brief nap on the floor with Jodie, Ollie was as ever in top form, still in his charity bag dress and giving Luke loads of grief for his injury which had since required his arm to be put in a sling. Luke was given a supply of ‘man up’ pills to solve all his problems and then attention was turned to using the reception phone to ring up for some ‘awkward silence’…thanks for that Ollie. Shortly after most people made it to bed, well except for Bryn who was found sleeping on the grass and Nathan and Elliot who were found snoozing in the reception chairs…How the people in the hotel must have loved us!

Dimanche

Having been retrieved from reception earlier on that morning Nathan was under strict instructions not to drink until lunch time. It’s nice to see he respects his father’s wishes as his breakfast consisted of 3 huge pints of beer...of course it wasn’t long before the dads joined him. And then the lads too. “But lads, you’re playing a game at 3…” As you can imagine this comment fell on deaf ears. At around 2pm someone pointed out that really the lads ought to go and get changed, maybe warm up a bit even since the game against Argeliers kicked off at 3pm. Grudgingly off they trudged whilst the coaches had one for the road.

Brentwood U17s 45 Argeliers 14

Brentwood’s warm up appeared to consist of little more than a bit of jogging, a few bits of chucking the ball around and a couple of mothers meetings whilst our French opposition, Argeliers, were hurtling round the field, vigorously doing press ups and generally looking far more alive than the Brentwood boys. The ground was hard and weather was also perfect for a bit of French flair so you can excuse me for being less than optimistic, Brentwood being more accustomed to the swamp that is King George’s.

As ever, I was wrong. I’m not sure anyone could have predicted quite how well Brentwood started this game as straight from the kick off they piled through on Argeliers and stole the ball. Brucie put in a clever kick through which was chased well by Sam Fry giving Argeliers a pressure lineout as their first throw. From a Brentwood point of view it all went according to plan when the lineout was stolen and out quickly to the backs, Jake taking it up the middle and the ball being spun to Chris Doble who charged over for the opening try. Charlie’s conversion made it the dream start, 7-0 Brentwood.

And then it went and got better still! Brentwood won a penalty and kicked to touch. Embracing stereotypically English play (well they didn’t want to be in court for not being English enough did they) the forwards put on an impressive maul which culminated in Chris Doble peeling off the side down the undefended blindside for his second of the game. EDR could almost be seen wincing at the prospect of another 73 minutes of play yet to come…Charlie was on target again, 14-0 Brentwood.

Soon there was a third too, someone had to pinch me to confirm I wasn’t dreaming this, as another lineout was stolen and James Payton crashed over. Clearly his maths practice on the bathroom mirror in Hanse’s room had put him in the right frame of mind! The conversion missed, 19-0 Brentwood.

Not long after Brentwood had another scoring opportunity but Billy couldn’t manage a simple pass to the man on his outside and so instead threw an intercept. I’m unsure as to whether he’s that useless or whether it was out of spite due to the man on the outside being adopted Bassenger, Sam Fry…

The remainder of the half was a much closer contested battle, some huge hits going in across the field as Argeliers began to find their feet and make life harder for Brentwood, coming close to scoring on a couple of occasions with only some excellent Brentwood defence keeping them out. The last score of the half did however go to Brentwood who reverted to what they enjoy best, going route one with the forwards; Matt ‘The Monk’ Whaley eventually being on the end of the score. Charlie knocked over the conversion, 26-0 Brentwood and half time.

If Brentwood had thought the second half was going to  be a walk in the park they were sadly mistaken as Argeliers came out all cylinders firing straight from the off. One of their particularly fast players sliced straight through the middle of the Brentwood defence and put in a kick over the top. The kick bounced up perfectly into the onrushing wingers hands and he raced over for the essai. The conversion was also on target, 26-7 Brentwood.

Unfortunately after this there was a long break in play as resident Rambo, Sam Morgan managed to add another one to his list of casualties and concussed himself slightly in the progress. The ambulance was called and the French player taken to hospital but he made it back for the evening so thankfully it wasn’t too serious. Sam on the other hand was still looking for his evil twin at 10 o’clock…

Up next was Brentwood’s best try of the game. A lovely flowing move saw James make the initial break and offload to Billy who was in support (or still retreating from a previous play…) who got in off to Chris Doble and finally to Matt Whaley who went under the posts to finish the move and score his second too. Pratley decided that Charlie gets far too much credit for this fly half lark and took the conversion, kicking the ball into next week as he did so. 33-7 Brentwood.

Credit to Argeliers, with the score line reasonably comfortable for Brentwood they could have given up but they carried on pressing and forced Brentwood into conceding a couple of penalties in quick succession. They worked their way up field and proved how dangerous they could be after some swift handling saw a deft chip put in. Brentwood failed to collect it, Argeliers re gathered and scored their second try in the corner. The conversion was spot on, 33-14 Brentwood.

Brentwood replied soon after with another try, again through the forwards, they do like to hog the ball…some initial good work as a pack saw Will make a strong run before slipping the offload to James Paton who crashed over for his brace. The conversion attempt missed, 33-14 Brentwood.

Up next was another 13 man lineout attempt. For some inexplicable reason Will decided he was going to throw the ball in. Billy was less than impressed, “This better be straight Will!” And fair enough, he was vindicated in this as the ball sailed straight into the French jumper’s hands and left Brentwood horribly exposed in defence since everyone was in the lineout…somewhat miraculously given the pace of the French Brentwood managed to recover and also turn the ball over. Charlie sliced clean through and offloaded to Jake who had a clear run to the line for the final, and the backs only try of the game. The conversion was drop goaled by Charlie and full time was signalled 45-14 Brentwood.

But the fun didn’t end there, oh no. After the traditional three cheers the French boys decided to treat Brentwood to a song/dance/haka type thing. Not to be outdone Brentwood did the only thing they knew how to and broke out the Macarena haka once more. I have to say I think on the quiet they’ve been practicing, it was perfectly timed and everyone knew the moves! And this was only to be the beginning of a wonderful night.

A bit of singing in the showers and a couple of pints later it was time for Sunday’s court. Le Juge donned his judge get up again must to the amusement of the French and called everyone together. It got better still when it was discovered we could even have a translator so everyone could understand what was going on! Up first were ‘the chunderers’ or those who’d thrown up during the weekend. Those named and shamed were Dan, Will, Tom, Chris Doble, Matt Gray and Karl. And then someone stepped forward and grassed up the French boys, seems some of them had had a heavy weekend too! They were sent to the stocks, which I’m told were crafted courtesy of Frank. Their ankles were secured in them and then the other boys had fun chucking wet sponges at them. Next up were those who would be participating in the relay race in the same format as it had been the previous day. Ginge was up for his lack of enthusiasm about tour attire and so by default Jake was also up. Pete and Chris were up, I can’t quite remember why, it may just have been for the misfortune of being Chris’ dad. The Lowrie's were also up on account of interference with French coach drivers and were joined by Frances and two of the French boys giving us relay teams of the dads, lads and French. Not only did the French win they also came back for more cheese which had been festering since Friday, commendable effort! Court adjourned!

Up next was a boat race. And I don’t mean of the rowing kind. 5 English boys against 5 French boys, a pint for each boy, the first man downs his, then the next does his when the first has finished and so on with the winners being those with their drinks finished first. It’s safe to say that Brentwood absolutely annihilated Argeliers in this particular contest but then we have known that Will, Chris Doble, Ollie, Luke and Matt Whaley are out elite drinkers since they were about 12! The French did get their revenge though with the pastis, Brentwood’s B team of drinkers unable to even come close but apparently “it’s a girl’s drink”.

With some probably a little the worse for wear now a sing off ensued with the French boys having a seemingly unending supply of brilliant songs and Brentwood having to rack their brains to come up with something to counter it. Eventually it degenerated into a full blown Okey Cokey and then someone said there was food up. The okey cokey was soon abandoned!

After some lovely food and Ollie, who was looking lovely in his dress, having everyone in hysterics with his “I can tell by your shiney teeth you must be a dentist,” (you had to be there) the games continued in the clubhouse. There was the press up game of which I’m yet to work out what the point to it is, a bit of bar diving which Sam Morgan particularly enjoyed although we’re not sure the rest of the boys did and then of course table mountain. Table Mountain, as the name suggests, involves people climbing on the table. The aim being to see how many people you can get on the table before it collapses. Up first were the lightweights, i.e. all the backs. As many as could possibly fit were sent on to the table but it didn’t budge, it didn’t even buckle slightly in the middle. Send for the heavy weights! Up stepped the likes of Will, Pratley, Bill, Bryn, Rocky and then The Door was called for. There was an audible gasp as he stepped on the table, pretty much everyone was expecting it to go, and nothing. How was this possible? More people piled on and still nothing so they began to bounce and bounce and bounce and finally crash went the table. Fortunately there were no fatalities although Bill is still suffering with his sternum having found himself under The Door’s considerable frame (no pun intended) and worse still, Jim couldn’t fix it (the table not the sternum).

A bit of limboing and some dancing with Ollie’s new best friend Gollum later it was unfortunately time to go. Some of the boys swapped shirts with their French counterparts, Charlie’s new shirt saying Escargot (snail) being found particularly ironic and if you want someone to pick your lottery numbers look no further than Sam Fry who managed to trade his tour shirt for a French rugby shirt thus probably making about 30 quid in the process. Some people have all the luck!

Back on the coach there were plenty of songs being banded around, the Pete McCarthy one making Keith ever so slightly jealous, no one being brave enough to sing about The Door, choruses of Jake Jake give us a song, followed by sit down shut up as soon as he attempted too and of course a delightful chorus of puppy love which I can say was one of the more embarrassing moments of my life.

It was nice to later be told that we’d made a lasting impression on Argeliers rugby club and woken an otherwise sleepy town. Apparently before we arrived it was believed that the English were all hooligans but we’d changed this perception. How I’ll never know since we turned up, wrecked the peaceful ambience, drank all the beer, dived off the bar and smashed their tables up…But I’m sure I can speak for everyone involved that night that these are memories of which will last a lifetime.

Being a Sunday night Narbonne was actually a ghost town so it was back to the hotel and everyone on the lawn for the drinking to continue. Only being the first weekend in May it wasn’t exactly the warmest once the sun went down so the boys decided they’d huddle together, phrases like “could we be a gayer rugby team?” and “this is a sausage fest” could frequently be heard! There was some more drink snorting from the dads because really they’re all sensible, mature adults and a game of Silent Night, yet another one in which I fail to see the point! Whack a tray on each others heads with as much force as possible whilst singing silent night…I can only assume the loser is the first to be concussed and in this particular round your money would have been on Brucie losing since he was stuck in-between Pratley and Will…People slowly started sloping off to bed, some unfortunately a little too early as poor Dan found out having been ambushed by the clippers. His eyebrows were left in France. As was the front and back of Tom’s hair.

Lundi

On Monday morning the Brentwood mob assembled to make their way back to the station for the long trip home. Everyone present and correct, yes even Bryn and Nathan, Brentwood waved a fond farewell to the ETAP hotel. Well except for Swampy whose ‘cesspit’ type remarks had been ever present all weekend!

There was plenty of time to kill in Narbonne so everyone went their separate ways for a while in search of food and more beer. Yet again Ian was horrendously unlucky in his quest for food, it taking a good hour and a half at least to get an omelette to him. We think you could actually catch a hen and wait for it to lay an egg in the time it took to get this omelette. Ian won’t be rushing back to a French restaurant for a while.

Everyone made in unscathed from Narbonne to Montpellier and then Montpellier to Paris with the train journey being pretty tame compared to the one going, well at least in the carriage where I was sitting! Little did I know at the time that there was all sorts of plotting going on…

The first I knew of it was on the platform in Paris as Jodie greeted me with “I’m going to warn you now, they’ve been planning all the way here.” And then the next I heard was a loud bellow of “Ross, stag do yeah!” I think the word which sprung immediately to mind was merde.

I’ll be honest, I never expected my hen afternoon would be in a French Subway (the sandwich chain, a little classier than an actual subway…) with Jodie, my dad, brother Will, brother Sam and Luke. Of course I wasn’t actually aware it was my hen do at the time but then such is life.

Everyone made it on to the Eurostar with no mishaps other than a French bloke accosting Bill with a loud cry of “RAFA BENITEZ?!”, Sam whacking me with his passport all the way through customs and the odd person trying to jump the queue. On the Eurostar Elliot was dismayed to find he had the corner seat in a group of old French people and so periodically had ‘fwend!” yelled at him throughout the journey.

At some point I became vaguely aware of Billy being ridiculously excitable and muttering something about revenge for all the times I’ve been mean in the report to him. Then I became very aware of a large amount of people humming the wedding march. And then Jodie said, “I’m your maid of honour.” “What?” “Did you not know you’re getting married?” “Well no…”

It was when Jim turned up in the train aisle in his vicar’s costume that I realised this was really happening. Isn’t it typical that someone actually has a vicar costume just when you don’t want them to…Myself and Ross were shepherded into the middle of the aisle although apparently the original idea had been to play the wedding march on the kazoos but in all the excitement it got forgotten. Rev. Jim read the pre-nup and then the vows and all was going smoothly until a mystery brunette stormed through and exclaimed “But you said you’d marry me! How could you?!” In spite of this the wedding continued with no further hitch, two I do’s later and your intrepid reporter found herself married. Which, let’s be fair, I hadn’t seen happening at the beginning of the weekend. What I want to know now is where all the wedding gifts are? We’ve not received a single toaster or crockery set. Appalling.

Finally our touring party arrived safely back at Ebbsfleet for one last ‘FORE!’ call on the platform before all heading off their separate ways home to bed after what was an amazing tour with some brilliant memories. On behalf of everyone I’d like to say a big thank you to our insiders in France; Frank, Frances and family who couldn’t have looked after us any better had they tried, Argeliers rugby club for hosting a wonderful night and playing a great game of rugby, Deltours for sorting all the trains and the hundreds and hundreds of tickets, Bill for booking the ETAP and surrendering his credit card and Bryn for getting and keeping communications going between France and England. I’m sure there are loads of things I’ve missed in this report, but frankly there’s just far too much to write and this is long enough as it is, so I shall leave the final words to Frank who kindly sent the following to Napoleon:

Kevin

Having experienced being on tour with Animals like yourself we would like to place on record of how proud we were of the lads and Poppa's that visited Argeliers May 2009.

Their behaviour on and off the pitch was a credit to Brentwood Rugby Club. In saying this they convincingly won the game with a well ordered display and they did not let us down with their after the game antics, another win.

We had acknowledgements from many of the rugby community and no doubt, (if it was possible), raised our standing in the Village. As ever, what happened on tour stays on tour and we are sure these excellent ambassadors have created friendships that will stand the Club in good stead.

Regards,

Frank, Mic, Frances, Adam and Michael (Farrants)