Berlin, 1984
Ah yes. Drive to Berlin, with 3 teachers, kids divided between 3 cars. Ferry from Harwich to Hamburg, 23 hours, only one thing to do. Groover J, having been on a ferry before (despite only being 15), finds the bar in record time, and nurtures a great love for German beer, along with the Marlboro soft packs they sell at the bar (boy, was I cool). Teachers are oblivious, oblivion looms, but not before a trip up on deck to get off with two willing lassies from Peterborough (they must have been blind. By this point, I probably was too). Fine times, until I realise that another mate, not nearly as hammered, has taken charge of the Peterborough situation, while Groover J staggers around on deck, listening to Rush on his walkman in the dark (told you I was cool...)

Berlin passes in a blur. Much German beer. Vagely remember being carried home one night, seventeen sheets to the wind, and, the next day, scrawling my name on the wall with half-empty spray cans which had been abandoned in the bushes, trying not to throw up with the smell of it all.

On the ferry back, the bar gets found again, quickly. Having found that we were all for a piss-up, the teachers arrived, and many drinks were bought. Finale came when innocent Miss Ball was seen trying to stab an inflatable doll (real hair, etc) which some lads were dancing with, and one of our number ends the music by smashing his head through one of the ceiling-mounted disco speakers while pogoing. Happy days indeed...
(groover j lazerus, Thu 7 Dec 2006, 21:13, Reply)