
Union jack shorts, bulldog t-shirts, bars named after soap operas, hen parties in Malaga. Tell us about your encounters with the worst (or best) of our fair country's travelers around the world. Alternatively, tell us about your own doomed quest to find a decent cup of tea in Moscow.
( , Thu 24 Apr 2014, 13:01)
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My first trip to Amsterdam. Having procured weed, we didn't want to sit in the silly stoners' cafe, but instead fancied a beer in a proper pub.
We found a nice little bar, and piled in - the seven of us filled a substantial portion of it - and as I went to get the round, was instructed to ask if we could smoke in there.
"Can we smoke in here?" I asked.
"Depends" said the large barman, very cooly, rather stern.
"Er ... hash?" I enquired.
"Yeah yeah," he said levelly, "Depends - where are you from?"
"Er ... England ... ?" I said, slightly confused, "London?"
"London!" he suddenly beamed. The tension was completely gone, replaced instead almost by low camp, "Of COURSE you can smoke here! You want some munchies? I'm so sorry - I thought you were from Liverpool!"
( , Wed 30 Apr 2014, 16:27, 12 replies)

He was curled up under a hedge in the Winter Gardens, overdosed.
I went to get help, while my mate poked him with a stick to make sure he was really dead.
( , Thu 1 May 2014, 0:17, closed)

Did you nick his wallet or something?
( , Thu 1 May 2014, 13:11, closed)

We'll never hear the fucking end of it.
( , Thu 1 May 2014, 14:38, closed)
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