School Trips
Get left behind? Go somewhere utterly amazing? Get bollocked by a lardy coach driver? Find out the school nurse was secretly bonking the Geography teacher? All these and more on just one five day trip to the Dorset coast. Whahey!
Tell us how your school trip spiralled out of control.
( , Thu 7 Dec 2006, 10:37)
Get left behind? Go somewhere utterly amazing? Get bollocked by a lardy coach driver? Find out the school nurse was secretly bonking the Geography teacher? All these and more on just one five day trip to the Dorset coast. Whahey!
Tell us how your school trip spiralled out of control.
( , Thu 7 Dec 2006, 10:37)
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Easter fun
At the age of 12 I was invited to visit France over Easter as part of an exchange trip with our partnered school just outside of Paris. At this point in my education I was learning French, and this was seen by my parents as an ideal opportunity for me to build on my growing interest and knowledge of the language, so the parental units stumped up the cash and off I went.
We travelled by coach, ferry etc. and after many hours of horrific cramped, sweaty nauseating travel broken only by inane gingangooliesque road songs we arrived thoroughly bored with the whole ordeal. I was met by my sponsor family and all I wanted was a good wash and a lot of sleep.
I was taken to some broken down hovel of a housing complex in the suburbs of Paris, led into the surprisingly tasteful interior and advised to get my stuff out of my suitcase. I opened my case, thinking "I can't wait to get freshened-up, have a shower and get some sleep", but as I pulled out my pyjamas I saw that they were covered in some form of brown goo. Confused I continued to pull things from my case, finding more and more of the brown sticky substance spread through the entire contents, seemingly randomly spaced in my underwear, nightwear, trousers, shirts, etc.
I have no idea what the French kid was thinking as he watched me pull the contents of my case out, covered in sticky brown filth but his face was amazing. I was becoming increasingly distressed until I realised what had happened.
My mother (bless her) had put a variety of chocolate Easter eggs in my luggage so that I would have a nice surprise waiting for me when I arrived in France....muppet.
( , Thu 7 Dec 2006, 19:34, Reply)
At the age of 12 I was invited to visit France over Easter as part of an exchange trip with our partnered school just outside of Paris. At this point in my education I was learning French, and this was seen by my parents as an ideal opportunity for me to build on my growing interest and knowledge of the language, so the parental units stumped up the cash and off I went.
We travelled by coach, ferry etc. and after many hours of horrific cramped, sweaty nauseating travel broken only by inane gingangooliesque road songs we arrived thoroughly bored with the whole ordeal. I was met by my sponsor family and all I wanted was a good wash and a lot of sleep.
I was taken to some broken down hovel of a housing complex in the suburbs of Paris, led into the surprisingly tasteful interior and advised to get my stuff out of my suitcase. I opened my case, thinking "I can't wait to get freshened-up, have a shower and get some sleep", but as I pulled out my pyjamas I saw that they were covered in some form of brown goo. Confused I continued to pull things from my case, finding more and more of the brown sticky substance spread through the entire contents, seemingly randomly spaced in my underwear, nightwear, trousers, shirts, etc.
I have no idea what the French kid was thinking as he watched me pull the contents of my case out, covered in sticky brown filth but his face was amazing. I was becoming increasingly distressed until I realised what had happened.
My mother (bless her) had put a variety of chocolate Easter eggs in my luggage so that I would have a nice surprise waiting for me when I arrived in France....muppet.
( , Thu 7 Dec 2006, 19:34, Reply)
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