Edinburgh to Alpe D'Huez and back again:
Prologue (three hours before leaving):
Heriot-Watt University beer festival. Attempting to get sufficiently drunk to sleep most of the way to Dover.


Arrival of the coach:
Drunk. Myself and the other Edinburgh participants load our skiing stuff onto the coach and depart. Sleep to Glasgow.


One hour in:
We have reached Glasgow and taken on the rest of the people. Drinks have been cracked open despite the warnings of the drivers concerning the limited capacity of the onboard toilet. The drive to the Alps is estimated to take about 28 hours.


Two hours in:
The bladders of some of the heaviest drinkers start to give way and a large group of people make their way to the toilet, causing the drivers to re-iterate their concerns about its capacity.


Five hours in:
All and sundry are drunk. The toilet is full but this is not a barrier to the general company continuing to use it. Before long the floor of the toilet (which I have the pleasure of being sat next to) is swimming in urine and other things less delightful. The drivers largely oblivious to this.


Seven hours in:
People are starting to fall asleep and many dares are taking place. Eyebrows are being shaved in fits of wild and entirely original abandonment and one individual, not content with this, decides this would be an opportune moment to experiment with some self-piercing. On his scrotum. He now appears to be sitting very uncomfortably and is making whimpering noises. He is also sporting a single eyebrow and (in between clutching himself and attempting to numb the pain with a rapidly diminishing supply of vodka) is threatening all manner of hellfire and genital-related injury on the individual responsible. I point out that this is unlikely to provoke a confession, but he seems unamused.


Ten hours in:
General sleeping coinciding with the alcohol being mostly gone.


Twelve hours in:
We have arrived at Dover, and are preparing to board the ferry. I have been eating seasickness pills by the handful in preparation which I combine with several pints before we actually leave the dock and I proceed to the observation deck, where I stay for the remainder of the ninety-minute voyage voyage - apart from a brief trip below to acquire a large amount of duty free pisswater masquerading as lager.


Thirteen and a half hours in:
The coach drivers meet the returning students at the door of the coach and they are not happy. We are informed that 1. "The toilet has been locked and will remain so for the rest of the journey" and 2. "No alcohol may be brought on this coach". We refuse to board the coach without our alcohol and under pressure from some irate ferry staff, the drivers are forced to give way.


Sixteen hours in:
The effects of the toilet closure are now being felt. Various empty bottles are being pressed into service in a way they were not originally designed for. The more intelligent members of the party are waiting for the drivers to announce that we will be stopping shortly before drinking furiously in order to use the toilets at the service stations.


Twenty hours in:
The drinkability of urine is being discussed.


Twenty hours and one minute in:
With the utterance of "I could just do wiv a nice pint of piss", the drinkability of a collection of different urine specimens is put to the test. In defiance of the laws of natural selection, the individual concerned does not appear to suffer any ill effects.


Twenty two hours in:
I have not slept for approximately thirty hours, and am feeling the strain. Fitful dozing is interrupted by a game apparently called "let's see if we can keep him awake". I do not share their enthusiasm for this game, but this does not appear to matter.


Twenty six hours in (near the foothills of Alpe D'Huez):
We stop for more supplies. For supplies, read alcohol. Snowing heavily.


Twenty six and a half hours in:
The drivers ask for quiet as the negotiate the treacherous road up to the ski resort. We want to watch Top Gun, and disagree. The drive up the mountain is accompanied by an extremely loud amateur rendition of "Highway to the danger zone".


Twenty seven hours in (at the resort):
The drivers declare us to be the very worst group they have ever had the misfortune to drive. An air of pride is generally present.



The trip back:

Sleep.
( MatJ LOOK, Sat 16 Jul 2011, 21:46, 6 replies)

Drinking urine is harmless,
as your kidneys will simply flush it all out again, although it's not an ideal way to remain hydrated, due to diminishing returns.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Sat 16 Jul 2011, 23:19, closed)

Actually, no
Because urine contains so many salts, drinking it actually has the same effect as seawater - it dehydrates you. It is, however, sterile.
( MatJ LOOK, Sat 16 Jul 2011, 23:59, closed)

Its only sterile in the moment it leaves your body, once it comes into contact with the outside air, its contaminated.
Or so I was told by someone who apparently was an expert in such things
But who knows ;)
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Sun 17 Jul 2011, 1:26, closed)

Yeah, you need to get your mouth right over the bellend or youre in all sorts of grief.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sun 17 Jul 2011, 3:40, closed)

Best chat up line ever
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Sun 17 Jul 2011, 11:46, closed)

Bear Grylls went with you?
also, click
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Sun 17 Jul 2011, 4:25, closed)