Tuesday 8 April 2008

The team has split

Not due to any personal differences, though I did see Jim spike Ray's
drink with hemlock last night, but due to differing commitments.
I have to be in Rotterdam tomorrow for work, Ray has to tend to his
embryonic business venture and Jim wants to achieve his dream of
getting pissed in six different cities in six different countries in
six days.
Jim Jim and Mars have managed to sequester themselves in a hidden
compartment on a UK bound lorry with a bunch of Tibetan dissidents,
and even as I type have made it to London to enjoy the fresh-ish air
of democracy, and probably a cheeky beer or two.
Meanwhile I've driven back to Amsterdam - yes the car is still good -
and booked into a palatial suite to enjoy a good nights sleep
somewhere where you can't hear the person in the next room scratching
themselves.
It's been an adventure, and worringly for the rest of Europe (or maybe
for Britain), we seem to have been one of the most sensible teams on
the rally.

Monday 7 April 2008

Dans La Grand Place

Given the remarkable survival of our trusty Untitled No. 37 we have
extended our European tour, and are now enjoying a Kriek in a bar
overlooking the best of Belgian architecture - the stuff that wasn't
destroyed in various conflicts that they unfortunatley were in the
middle of.
We've had our farewell meal, as tomorrow I head back to Holland for
work, leaving Jim and Ray to try to find a way back the UK. Our choice
of restaurant consisted of wandering down the Brick Lane of seafood in
Brussels and sucumbing to the first offer of free beer, followed by
completely blowing out this offer by ordering fois gras, lobster and a
rather cheeky burgundy. It is a fitting way to finish.
We will be publishing a more complete description of our trip on the
website www.paperjam.co.uk but there maybe further updates here too,
as we are not home yet. I will be keeping the car and driving it home
on Friday, so that should be fun in itself. In the meantime, au revoir
from Jim Jim, Jesus Lebowski and Mars, as we have rather peculiarly
been named.

Never, ever stay in the HEM Hotel Amsterdam

Just take my word for it...

Now in a coffee shop in Amsterdam having had an entertaining night out including:
- Some shite ex-pat nightmare pub
- An affiliated coffee shop where we got stoned and Ray lost any semblance of sentience
- An Australian bar where I ate kangaroo and was gutted that I didn't have the chicken pie.
- A small bar where a very drunk dutch man sang at us for a long time after he should have realised that we weren't playing.

Planning to head to Brussels in the still-working Jackson Pollock Rover. Should be back in the UK within a day or so - just as long as the market in Belgium for second hand organs is as bouyant as we are hoping.

Sunday 6 April 2008

Mission accomplished

We've made it to Amsterdam. We do appear to be staying in some kind of
portacabin that smells of dope,, but I'm sure that will matter less
later in the evening. Full update later

Somewhere in Germany

Last night we sampled the wonders of Prague, and despite the
distinctly underwhelming outskirts, came to the conclusion that it is
an architectural and cultural wonder. The old city is beautiful, the
beer is cheap and plentiful, and Ray ate himself into a meat coma with
his mixed-pig platter for about two quid. Overall it was a triumph.
Unlike Germany, which we unanimously agree is a shithole.
Honestly, we are seriously dissappointed with the endless procession
of light industrial estates, Lego built warehouses and an
extraordinary range of ramshackle falling down sheds. The wind farms
are by far the prettiest thing here. The high point was the snow storm
in the mountains, as it meant we couldn't see the wastelands of Mordor
around us. It has got slightly less bleak the further west we go, but
i don't think any of us are putting a road trip around Germany at the
top of our holiday list.
At least now we are seeing signs for Amsterdam, so are on the final
leg and have only a couple of hours before we can relax, have some
funny cigarettes and giggle helplessly into the night whilst eating
the contents of the local 24 hour garage..

Saturday 5 April 2008

The Czech police are very nice..

Kindly helping out a large number of the rally entrants with certain
legal questions in this former eastern bloc state. Luckily we didn't
have any jurisprudence related matters we wanted to discuss with them,
and as we had a bit of a late start I think they were snowed under
with all the other entrants queries. Or so we assume considering the
number of interesting coyote bangers we saw having what is known as 'a
brush we the law'.
As Jim was driving at this point he didn't really appreciate the
truncheon jokes coming from me and Ray.
Well we've made it to Prague, and despite possibly leaving half our
gearbox on a tramline when doing a u turn after passing close to but
not actually by our hotel for the third time, it has been pretty easy
going. The hotel is ok, though it is in a fortified compound in the
middle of an estate where serial killers are probably scared.
We'll be off into the old town in a bit, though I think we may be a
little calmer than last night, given that Ray had about five litres of
beer and a bottle of wine on his 'night off', and none of us could
recognise our own reflections this morning..

There are some strange people..

On the way to Munich we didn't stop much, but at one particular point
we came across something that gave us all pause for thought, and pause
for varying degrees of revulsion. But I can say no more, as Jim has
just advised me that this has to be saved for the full novel length
version. Put it this way, dogging is weak in comparison.

Friday 4 April 2008

Munich

Ray and I engage in a brutal alpha male drink-off before a pretzel fight in the street. I kicked his sorry ass. And then apologised endlessly.


The main stop in Munich was the Hoff Brauhause, where more beer was drunk, sausages and saurkraut were consumed, plus some sceptic tanks turned up and all looked very young indeed. Nick spent the evening brushing up on his Big Lebowski impression - which is coming on a treat as you can see below...

Paris, not Texas

First thing after getting to Paris we get in touch with my cousin Chris, we all go for a drink, but Ray insists on limbo-dancing in the foreground of every photo opportunity.


Paris en nuit is even more appealing than Paris in the sunshine which we enjoyed while watching many attractive women and the worlds laziest police force.


I met Phillipa, an Australian bar worker who wants to get into working in womens rights. She now owes me 1 million euros after it turned out that I was correct as to the fact that she came from the same country as Germaine Grier. I got one gin and tonic. I am waiting on payment on the next €999,997.36 which I am prepared to negotiate over.

Got to Munich

Just a quick entry, we've got to Munich and are enjoying comically
sized steins of beer. We're planning a fuller update later this
evening with photos, but in the meantime rest assured Untitled No. 37
is still running strong, and getting a surprisingly large amount of
love from our Teutonic friends. Oh, and Jim had a hitherto unknown
level of success with a barmaid last night, actually managing to get
behind the bar with her. I know you are all intrigued..

Nick rants via his iphone

Jim is currently despatately re-writing reality to minimise the
embarassment of last night whilst I post my own independently
adjudicated UN approved account. Suffice to say that Jim had one or
two too many shandies, tried and failed to get off with various serving wenches and repeated the same story thirty seven times. On the plus
side Ray has just offered to kiss Jim on the lips in the middle of a
Munich hotel lobby. Hmm

Thursday 3 April 2008

Paris in the spring

Well, Untitled no. 37 made it with flying colours, and a relatively
small exhalation of it's bodily fluids. After our last blog we've had
a remarkably unmemorable steak and a soul destroying wander around the
wasteland that is industrial Calais trying and failing to find
somewhere to get a drink. The emergency hip flask came into play
earlier than originally anticipated.
After a nights sleep interrupted by a herd of wildebeast in football
studs (or at least that's what it sounded like) we made it to the
start at about half eight, where a few things became clear;
1 - We have by far the most committed car decorations
2- There are a variety of people who are taking this a little too
seriously
3 - I don't think we'll be the first to either break down or be arrested
A fuller description of other entrants will follow, I'm sure.
We are getting a lot more love on our 'lust or disgust' list in France
- even the gendarme have given us the thumbs up. Only the bastard
cutting us up on the Paris perepherique gave us any serious hassle.
So anyway, we got here fine, and only the steam issuing from the
engine after it was left idling while I checked into the hotel caused
consternation.
We've met up with Jim's cousin, who is a chef here, and are now
sitting in the glorious sunshine, having a beer, and contemplating all
the challenges set by the coyote rally that we have no intention of
doing.

Wednesday 2 April 2008

The formula 1

The formula 1 chain in France is great. Great if you want to spend the
minimum possible without actually staying in a tent. After advice from
a friend we decided to book an extra room, which has been proved to be
a wise choice as none of us particularly wanted to top and tail. The
location is great though, if you want to see the sights of a port town
industrial estate. At least we have found a steak house that serves
horse and beer. Signing off for the night...

Sea France experience

Currently standing in a stairwell on a ferry surrounded by a large
number of French school children unfortunately reinforcing a large
number of stereotypes. However we have a certain level of joy this
cannot interfere with as the pollock untitled 37 has got to Calais.
And the car started, so we aren't going to delay an entire ferry
unloading (we are at the front). Jim has been forceably volunteered to
not drink tonight, so more beers will ensue for me and Ray. In the
meantime Jim will probably enlighten you on the now infamous 'where
the fuck are all our documents' incident, where it must be said I got
a little arsey for reasons that were entirely my fault

Having a spare wheel is probably a good idea...


...so with that in mind, our sincere thanks to Marcus and the team at Bespoke Wheels of Leamington Spa who did us a favour by changing our flash alloys for the original Rover ones this morning. This way we can deal with at least one flat tyre, well possibly.

In exciting news, it turns out the alloys are worth around £200 so if anyone wants to make us an offer - leave a comment or e-mail one of us.

We might even throw in something extra. Like a car.

Untitled Number 37 sets off at lunchtime today, Nick and Ray have been off doing minor tasks such as getting the wheels sorted, plotting a route and confirming breakdown cover. I on the other hand have been sorting out the more important side of things such as:

- Staying in bed until 10 am, so only a half hour lie-in really.
- Failing to get a hair cut, despite the fact that I actually live opposite a barbers
- Buying a large amount of mars bars/water/coke/chewing gum
- Almost accidentally buying a fairly "niche" durex product instead of earplugs in Boots and then following some box-swapping needlessly saying to the assistant "no really I am planning to put them in my ears".

With a bit of luck, I'll be able to do an update once we get to Calais tonight.