Dutch Story V

(This is for Ewoud)

So this was 1996. And we're in Holland racing on the Bosbaan and it's taken us forever to get there because Ian's got it in his head that Holland is somewhere near Calais and we've been driving for about ten hours when we find the place. And its great I've never been before but the lake's just the right size except the warm-up lane is unbelievably narrow but it's got boats going to the Olympics in our race which makes us feel pretty special.

So we rig and practice and pack up for the night and all pile back in the minibus and head for AMSTERDAM where most of us haven't been and we drive into some square and get out and it's really quiet and dark and we think where is all the ACTION when out of the dark come two pretty girls and they're dressed as condoms. No kidding. And they've got a tray of condoms each and they say go on take as many as you like and we're english and posh and a bit shy. Except Ethan who's American and takes about fifty. Alan says that it's a 'good initiative' and we're like yeah right Alan I'm sure they've saved your knob from an evil fate.

And the girls point us in the direction of the Red Light zone and suddenly there are lots of people and the pros are in these garage-sized booths with glass fronts and curtains for when the client comes in and they're pretty fit but it's weird because almost everyone's a tourist and it's more like a show in Vegas than rude.

Some of the boys go into a show but its pricey so myself and Ian and Alan stay outside and there are market-stalls but selling porn and Alan spots a magazine called Dog Love and we nearly die laughing.

So the next day is the big race and we're racing the Italian and the Australian eight who are going to Atalanta and the Irish light eight going to the worlds and we're Goldie the Cambridge seconds and thinking this is pretty cool. And I'm on the blocks now right between the two Olympic boats and the starter says: Italy you're cox has not weighed and there is a kerfuffle in the Italian boat while someone translates and then one yells back: he is so fat he would break the scales and we all laugh. It's no big deal. And Miles is at stroke in front of me and he's making these weird signals and grinning and I'm like hello get with the action stroke-man and he's still at it and I turn around and it's the frigging condom girl holding our stern in place!! Not dressed in her condom suit any more. And Miles is well chuffed because he thinks he's in there but he's so not.

That's how it happened. That was the best trip. Ever. We came second, too, which made it even better.



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