week 1

So this is supposed to be a trip around France to watch rugby, but it has quickly devolved into a series of messy nights out on the town spreading international relations. While in Lyon we shook ourselves to the core, and now this disease has chased us across the chanel to London, were last night we got very heavily involved in a party that has left some very sick and sorry travellers today.

Lyon is one of the greatest party towns we have yet visited throughout the world. It is one of the biggest university towns in Europe, so had a massive supply of very young hard bodies for us to make friends with. On the first night in town we went to a big square and watched the France vs Argentina match, then went to the great Australian pub, the Ayers Rock, for one of the wildest nights ever. The next day we went to the game and then had a very large night in at the camp site. At one point we were within seconds of jumping in the car and driving to Monza for the grand prix, seriously it was three am, we could have gone straight across the alps and been there by 8 am... we were on hte point of jumping in Jason's hire car but cooler heads eventually prevailed so we stayed in Lyon.

The Sunday we decided to go for a quite day in town, we had a desperate need for internet, and somewhere to see the racing cars. Jason managed to talk a nice lady at a pub into putting the game on for us, but unfortunatly this meant we were at a pub, so we drank. Things progressed as you would expect, after the F1 (how was Hamilton's bonzai move on Kimi?) there was rugby, lots of rugby, we went back to the Ayers Rock. A group of 4 Aussies, in an Aussie bar in France can pretty much do whatever they please, I mean really do you think the surrender monkey's or the scot's, or the brits are really going to be able to do anything about it?

Fast forward about 7 hours and its now 2 am, we have became life long friends with at least four different groups of chicks (evidence Kloss' facebook) have danced on tables, mediated fights, run line out drills, and had copius amounts of shots purchased for us by our new British friends, boy did we think we were cool. The end of the night is a little hazy, there was some nudity, I suspect a little vomit, and there was some extreme sickness the next day (it took Wristy two full days to recover).

Anyways, we then trouped across the chanel to the UK to go to Cardiff for Saturdays epic between Wales and Aussie, and decided to stop in London for the night just to refresh our batteries a little. Unfortunatly, it turned out it was Cherie's birthday so there was no way we could have a refreshing stay in the big town, it calld for a party, and when you are partying in London there is no finer place then the Covent Garden Walkabout. The night once more started nice and quitely but suddenly there was an English Football international on and the place went a little crazy, as did we. When the pubs began to shut we realised that there was no way we could call off the party that early so we took a deep breath and went into the RoadHouse, a club on Covent Garden that could be the worst place on earth, that was until last night when we fell in love with the place.

So we've been on the go for over a week or so now, and as far as I can tell, there have been no muesums visited, no serious tourist attractions boxes ticked, but a lot of drinking, this weekend in Cardiff promises to be another right off, seriously every Aussie I know in London is on their way up for the weekend, if this continues for the entire trip then not all of us will make it home alive, and considering the way I feeling right this moment, that doesn't acctually seem like that bad a result.