Amsterdam Nights

Press Play on the Music button to the right for the full experiance.

Memories of my school life are full of mischief and mayhem, both of which have no place on this particular blog. I often wondered what the whole point of learning was, and still do. But this past week has been different, for history has been our friend. Back then I had my first encounter with an explorer, a mighty explorer from a far off land. This old-school tourist had voyaged around the world to discover a small country which I am proud to call home, and in the process fostering a nation of eager young explorers. Yes people Able Tasman, the crazy Dutch bastard is a legend. And its with this great feat in mind, more specifically his free spirit and need to explore, I will regale you our prodigious trip across the ocean to Amsterdam, home to Able himself among other things! What all this has to do with a drunken lads trip to the city of sleaze is beyond me, but you have to pad these things out a bit…you know, build up the tension.


Once again it was the usual suspects that has been gathered for the trip across the mighty North Sea, plus one more lad from Dublin. Pete, my old work mate would be joining Troy, Harbott and Tokaroa. 3 Kiwis, 1 Irish and an Aussie. All the ingredients of a bad joke, minus the laughter! The catalyst for this trip was an evening with The Killers. Those brilliant rockers from Vegas. Having seen them just a few months back, I was looking forward to another night in the mosh pit! So the lads had got some dodgy tickets on eBay and were heading for the Dam on a quiet Wednesday.


Rather strangely we were staying at Hotel Ben, yes that’s right. Troy thought, for some unfathomable reason, this place looked the goods, but often its hard to live up to a name. See two friends had the mis-pleasure of wandering into its squalid halls a few weeks back, and upon hearing our choice of bed rest, informed us (albeit to late) of its finer qualities. Top of this list being the Everest like stairs to the 3rd floor, Nazi style managerial skills and complementary towels roughly the size of a licked postage stamp and the moister soaking abilities consistent to that of wax paper. (drying by friction anyone). Note: These said ‘friends’ were Joe ‘The Fizzing Rocket’ Ward and Marty ‘The Hornby Hornet’ Veale, who were on a 5 day train wreck across Europe, and I’d hazard to guess were blind drunk at the check in and check out of Hotel Ben. So venturing an opinion from these 2 about our newly booked accommodation, would be as foolish as getting directions from a still living Ray Charles, or perhaps eating ham sandwiches with Mama Cass. I digress, but apparently these 2 idiots got separated on the train, due to it leaving Marty on the platform, smoke in hand as his partner in crime was speeding his way to Munich! Think Dumb and Dumber does Europe. Anyway….not there Blog…..


Hello Grasshopper. One bonus of Hotel Ben, was location. This being about a 10m stroll to the Grasshopper, but a 50m return journey! For those unfamiliar with Amsterdam, the Grasshopper is one of the finer ‘Coffee’ houses in the city. Big and Green, can’t miss it. Now, I’m an honest man so won’t beat around the bush here. When in Rome, it has to be done. So after a ‘Small’ sampling of the good stuff (Still coughing incidentally) we headed off to the Killers concert *. What followed was the funniest cab ride of the week, nothing springs to mind but for some reason we all laughed our asses off for the 20min ride! Concert was nothing short of fantastic, as was the venue. The Heineken music center, which was like a massive bar that happen to have a concert going. Loved it.

*Ed Note: Mum, am not addicted to it! Only did once, and plus it was organic….and that makes it healthy. OK, you can ground me when I get home.

The next day involved a Canal ride, taking in the finer views of the city from sea level…which I can tell you is fuck all (Being very low in the water). Elderstatesmen tour advice – Stick to the Streets people. That night we ended up heading to leidseplein, which we had been told was a good party area. What followed is really hard to put down on paper, but I’ll try. We got stopped by a young kiwi lad trying to sell tickets on a ‘Ultimate Pub Crawl’. Basically they take you to bars, and give you some free piss! Were do we sign…..

After paying our fee and a few warm ups, it was show time. Our American tour leader Steveo had the unsettling task of organizing about 40 people on this thing. Including, by now, 5 rather drunk lads looking for tomfoolery. Now over the years I’ve heard some great fire up speeches, some that would make a grown man cry or an old lady crack some skulls! Think Pachino, Crowe, Churchill, Malcolm X and Anything off Team America. Well people, we can now add Steveo the Pub crawl guy to that. Never have I seen people go from Zero to 100 faster in my life! When we marched off to the first pub, high five’n and hollering, we should have been marching on parliament or conquering a city…but alas, our energy was directed at the next bar! Oh well. We was pumped. Whoop whoop! Steveo Below


What followed was controlled chaos, walking from bar to bar. Never really knowing where we were or our destination, but you know what, that’s the beauty…didn’t know…didn’t care. We met some classics on the pub crawl, but can’t remember any of them and doubt you would care. Except the chap Troy mistook as Harbott from behind, who had the best comb over since Spitty Wilson back at Westlake. Queue Harbott in disgust for the rest of the night, and trying this to explain to German comb over guy! He though we were strange! Haha. My night finished with a drunken stumble past the red light district (just looking people, nothing sinister here, has to be done….looking that is) trying to figure if each one was female and/or male…after 30min of internal debate, and no real answer, I called it a night! Very entertaining watching blokes look left then right, then duck into a window thinking no one saw them, right. This place is crazy.


Day 3 came with another tour, and my second piece of advice. Bus tours – read the fine print. For had we seen the part on ours, saying “we will drop you at a diamond plant” for what was pure boredom and 60mins of our lives we’ll never get back , we all might have passed on that one. As far as the cutting and polishing of any substance goes, never mind Diamonds, you can count me right out! But at least we got some shut eye at the back of the bus! Oh yeah, and I saw a wind mill which hadn’t turned since the last century turned.

I must mention here my Dutch diet, which consisted of frites (Fries) and mayonnaise and the odd burger, and by odd I mean 2. So basically lived off potato…and loved it. If they have a claim to fame, they should take the frites….simple and brilliant. Heineken was also the only other thing drunk, and to be honest, not as good as stuff back home. Sorry, but I know my Heineken…and I must of tested it in every bar…..but the brewery tour was really awesome. Tour advice 3 – do the Tour. You get beer with it, and a gift. Easy.


By now the tour was heading to a almost Ground hog like finish…we new what was coming, but were all powerless to stop it! I’ve always thought originality has been our strong point, but not on this occasion. The lure of another night on ‘that’ Pub crawl, and Steveo’s speech was to much! Back to leidseplein!!!! (Plus 5 Eruo off for next night). This time the lads had knowledge on there sides….trouble. Poor Steveo’s speech didn’t quite have the same affect in round two, as we all piled in with painful comments. There were 120 people on this one, and with them all Chanting Steveo Steveo….he found it very hard to get his message across! The lads quickly formed as the pub crawls veterans, and it was over before it began. This was just and bigger and better version of the night before. We managed to meet up with Riceyand JC, and got them on the tour as well. Honestly saw them for all of 2hrs…I know, good aye! Thanks for showing us around Amsterdam lads……as useful as a Zimbabwean tail ender!

Tour advice 4 – Do the Ultimate Pub Crawl! On either a Thursday or Friday. Brilliant. Might pay not to mention us though…..

So Amsterdam, what can I say. It was all I had hoped for and more. Beautiful City, and very laid back. But a great place to party and meet people. Elderstatesmen seal of approval. But, it really should come with a warning on the label! My liver is looking to sue the city…go figure!

Amsterdam Photos - Click here

Waitangi Day Crawl and Church

There is perhaps an unwritten rule, shaped over time in regards to the fashion of men. This rule I would regard as the cornerstone in how ‘Men’ approach fashion, a rule so strong that to break can bring the wrath and ridicule from other men. A type of clothing one only jokes about at the pub or is seen on TV. This kind of clothing should only see the day of light wrapped around Women’s nubile bodies or at a stretch (No pun intended) the more ‘feminine’ chaps who indulge there Saturday mornings at the local Pump class down at les Mills. Lycra, yes people the fabric that can conjure up lovely pictures of women jogging around lake Pupuke, and on the other hand one of Richard Simmons covered head to toe in the stuff! You see men are not meant to wear the stuff! Full Stop.

Pushing the boundaries of fashion has always been one of the Elderstatemen’s secret agendas, and this time we had an idea that would not just go over the line, in fact we would just skate right by it! Full body Lycra anyone, sure why not. Leave you embarrassment at the door lads.

We had heard about the infamous NZ Waitangi Day Circle Line Pub Crawl for some time, a bit on an institution if you will, starting some 30yrs pervious on a cold Feb 6. The idea is to meet up with fellow Kiwis and make you way round the Circle line on the tube, stopping at each stop and partaking in a drink at one of the bars! Simple. But being Kiwi’s we add spice by dressing up and making certain rules on the trains (e.g. not holding on ect.)


Being one of 8,000 requires a special kind of dress-up. One designed to stand out from the crowd while being patriotic to home. So the NZ Winter Olympic Speed Skating Team was born. I had sourced my mate Zhang from China to make our uniform (thanks eBay).

15 Lads had been chosen to represent our country, it was a hotly contested makeup, but in the end the boys gelled well as a unit. We had a few lads fly in from over seas, Marty Veale who was fresh from off the slopes in Japan, Jeremy Cameron coming of a high season in Amsterdam, and the Ménage á Trois from Dublin of Seamus, Harbott and Tokaroa where they have been putting in the yards at the local Rink. Also a huge London contingent brought together for the day, Leper and Johnny Foreigner taking time off from Disney on Ice to get here. Dan Dalton, Garrett and Sammy Gunn putting their figure skating dream on hold for a few more days. Plus a big hand must go to the lads from the 666 summer athletic association for competing out of season, Softy, Hick, Mutt and Geoff….in the cold conditions you all stood out!

The uniform ceremony will always live strong in my memory, a special time when one slides on the skin tight speed skate suit for the first time. Yes, it may take a few other lads to help you into the thing, which attends to its tightness…luckily the lads were not in need of talcum power or baby oil, which was in plenty full supply for some reason. The feeling of Lycra on the skin has to be experienced, and those 15 lads will attest to this fact. Like an All black pulling on the fern the first time, we all new the significance! A funnier scene I can not envision, 15 lads in skin tight Lycra, hoods, gloves, booties and perhaps a old rugby sock down the front to balance up what mother nature seemed to forget (Plus it was about 4deg).


So the day kicked off with a roof top Churchill style speech from Team Captain Steven T Harbott, and he laid down the Games and Teams for the day. I’ll skip this part for now, because other than the first pub, the Teams and games plan fell to pieces quicker than a Black Caps tour to OZ. Being sober and feeling naked forced the lads to crash a few cans back, deep breath then hit the streets of Fulham to make our way up to the Start line at Paddington Station.

Below is the actual Start of the Day! Top form from myself in the last play.



We had all practiced our Speed skating walk, and quickly got into rhythm on the Street. I must admit, the locals must have wondered what in gods name was going on as 15 lads in perfect formation cruised past (At High Speed). We arrived at the first station to absolute bedlam, thousands of kiwis all drinking on the street and having a great laugh. Heading into a corner pub, once again getting plenty a funny look, plus many invitations and arse grabs! But not ours ;-)

We gathered outside the pub to play the first (and only) Gold medal match, Curling. Which involved a empty beer can and a circle. Needless to say my team pulled off a tense victory and a mighty celebration was had. All 15 lads then lined up in skater mode and speed skated off in front of about 2000 people all cheering and clapping! One of the funniest moments ever. The next 2 hrs consisted of about 150+ photos, people just stopping us in the street and getting snaps, lads felt like celebrities. One old Indian fella even handed his kids over to JC for a photo op, of course the kids were in tears as was JC. We all made our way towards Westminster for the massive Haka at 4pm. All the lads eventually got lost, some not appearing till the next day.

Apparently we had all become quite well known along the pub crawl, for there were always reports of ‘Lycra’ spotting by locals along the way. Of course we all hated this, so in retaliation to unwanted attention we posed for many many photos with the people. Throughout the crawl we would have to pull into a Bottle shop and reload, on one particular stop we had to do so some crowd control also. JC was ordered by the girl behind the counter to empty the store to 10 people, due to the fact that about 40 people were running a-mock! Step in a angry duChats like a curlers best mate swept the riff raff of Kiwis out and put 2 lads on the door to keep them secured, thus restoring Kiwi pride.


The Crawl ends with a huge Haka, which as you can imagine involves 100’s of topless lads slapping knees and looking overly menacing! I can only wonder what the local tourists are thinking at this point. Anyway the lads all went off to different bar in full kit for more madness, myself and Tokaroa ending up back at the flat around 3am!

The Church

So Sunday came, and most of the lads were as sick as a small hospital. But we had goals for this weekend people, and when your wear the lycra its for good, and plus its fuckin hard to take off when unable to walk! So with this in mind we all convened at the legendary Church in Camden town. This place is as close too religious as Ward is to finding that miracle balding cure.

The beauty of lycra as it needs no ironing, or come to think of it washing! As most lads just slept in the thing it was a quick exit to Camden Town for Midday kick off. Smelling like worse than floor we hit the place skating.

There were 5 of us, and to my surprise there were about 7 others already there. Most of the team had backed up. Right, to describe the 4 hrs that followed would be a dead set miracle, because it would be :
a) Take a CSI team to piece together
b) not do the afternoon justice and
c) I really struggle to remember the thing (Which might or might not be a good thing)

To be fair, I will let the Photo below do the talking on this one! This taken just before a massive pile up which resulted in one of the lads with a broken rib and me with a knee more swollen than a English cricketers Ego. Bouncers all decided to get involved, which resulted in one of the more unusual stand-offs since the Poms took on the Zulu’s; 10 Speed Skaters vs. 4-5 Steroid enabled bouncers. A truce was quickly signed and as it was closing time we all skated for the door! Some thinking clothing was optional at this point!


So the Weekend ended at the Walkie in Shepard’s Bush, with the lads all taking center stage and doing the Lycra proud!

Overall I have to say that it was one of the truly great weekends with the lads, was one of those – You really had to be there people!

Till next time! Lycra out!

Waitangi Day Crawl - Pre Event

Well People, this weekend sees the lads hit the famous 'Waitangi Day Circle Line Pub Crawl' in London. 8000+ kiwis celebrating all that is New Zealand'sih! Which means dressing up as fools and drinking our own body weight in booze! Stay tuned for the report from the weekend.

I have sourced the below as our uniform for the 16 lads attending! Special times

Look for the update next week team....should be a cracker! Dublin lads, Bullshit from Amsterdam and Marty Veale from Japan are all making guest apperances!

The Big update!

Let the 2nd Year Begin

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, 2 months since I last made Interweb contact. Well I say it make the blog grow stronger. Poor effort on my behalf, as I’m sure you’ve all been worried sick and have sent out the rescue teams to track me down. Well fear not worrisome readers, for I have re-surfaced like a pacific black pearl diver from the depths, clutching another bag full of yarns and undersized stories!

Sometimes while travelling its best to hold the correspondence until something worthwhile has happened, lucky for you lot the duChats and Co have been busy little beavers indeed. So lets ‘Dive’ right in… my last contact dealt with a few concerts and a messy tour around Ireland…… well as I like to keep things uniform, this one will be no different!

I left the Green Isle bound for London about a 6 weeks ago, with a faint hope of perhaps shifting the social life into a lower gear. After what was 3-4 going away bashes in Ireland I felt I was due for a small rest! So below are 3 posts, oneeach from Dublin, London and Paris! In reverse order....you'll see!

Also have added heaps of new photos! Even some old Globetrotter ones i found...haha. Good times.
http://flickr.com/photos/benduchateau/sets/

Also some other Vids down the Right hand side! Enjoy.

Paris - The Mother Land

A true highlight of the past year was my first trip to Paris to see the All Blacks. A home coming of sorts for the duChat, back to the land of my pioneering fore fathers. Well we all know how good Paris is, so I’ll refrain from crapping on about its finer points! Only to say that a £2 bottle of wine actually tastes better than one would expect, and with the advent of the plastic pop top…perfect for the long trip to the Game! Yes, I may have a flashy French name but there is top notch kiwi blood flowing thru my veins! A Rachel hunter quote springs to mind…..

As luck would have it, my musical concerting partner Troy had managed to get a few tickets to the Killers at a small venue in downtown Paris. So I hit town a few days before the test on the Wednesday to hook up and see them Live! Trip there was mint on the Eurostar, now my preferred travel method…well only to France to be fair. Felt very Secret Agent like on the Train, very fast. Sorry I digress.

A few warm up drinks in the shoebox sized hotel room, we hit the gig at pace. Troy and his Wife, Catherine, and yours truly straight to the bar. Then after getting a feel for the 1000 seat room, the mosh pit! No repeats of Gun’s N Roses incidents…as far as we know. Check out the vids below. Mr Brightside and All the things that I have done. They would be one of the best bands I’ve seen all year, just awesome!

KILLERS VIDEOS

All the things that I have done

I was informed some days later that we in fact ended up at the local….how do I say…strip bar in the Moulin Rouge Area! Which I had no recollection of then, or now as I write this. I’m squarely putting the blame on the triple Tequila’s we consumed…or so I’m told! Is there anything worse that going to a strip club and not actually remembering anything of it. The Lord works in mysterious ways my friends.

So after doing a fair bit of footwork (Fancy?) getting around Paris, and basically avoiding any verbal contact with the locals (A Shock to some but much to the dismay of Mr Holt. My 3^rd form French Teacher, I actually faired rather poorly in the subject. I blame a genetic disposition to the language, figuring that’s why my ancestors left the cheese eating surrender monkeys to it).

Friday came, and with it a huge influx of Lads from England and Dublin for the big test on the Saturday night. Through some cunning planning the

majority of us were all in the same establishment, with a few others dotted around the suitably dodgy red light district of Moulin Rouge. More sex shops than the internet! (That’s what I heard anyway)

As Jimmy Barnes once belted out, Cheap Wine!! A connoisseur of fine wine would have chocked on his Merlot, for our standards revolved more around price than locale or grape variety. I believe the cheapest was something around the €1.85, that was a bargain…even for vinegar, which it had a striking similarity too. We loaded up once again in the shoebox and decided to have an impromptu gathering, as more lads floated in for the weekend. Come 10pm, Tokaroa and Manu were in full singing voice, with classics such as November Sun in Paris! The owner decided enough was enough and pulled the fuse on the room. So lights out we all hit the town! Once again memory is not quite like when I appeared on mastermind that time in 86, but needless to say the lads took full toll on the local bars! Meaning the next morning involved enough pills to keep a retirement home open.

So the big day had arrived, all quietly rearing to go for the big AB’s v Frenchies test at Stade de France! We spent most of the day trying to decide on all manner of ways to get booze into the ground, which as it turned out was more like fort knox, than a Rugby ground. This frenzy of ideas was prompted by the astounding fact that they only serve NON-Alcoholic beer inside. We learnt this from some poor sod who had, in 2004, consumed about ½ Dozen brews only to realise he was still sober…the most freighting story ever heard! Well not us, so after tucking into the Red, we all packed the drinkers best friend – Hipflask! Unfortunately a few saw fit to lighten the load on the train to the ground, and drained their hippies! As you do…. Prob for the best, because we all had to at the gate, as the security was tighter than Jeremy Cameron before payday!

Game and ground were just awesome, hard to describe…..which is what I did with my old batting partner Harbott, who after consuming his (And Paris’s) share of Scotch was unable to make out who was who from the 90 odd people running around the field! Classic Harbott. See the eyes below! Good man

We all finished up the night over running a bar back in Moulin Rouge area. Foolishly the bouncer was letting in anyone claiming to be Kiwi, so we had ownership of the place. I also unleashed my refined break dancing skills on an unsuspecting French public, and floor! Took me a week to realise why my big toe was blue? Might be time to pack the steel toes when dancing! Also only made the train by absolute minutes in morning! From waking to train was under 25min! Some effort, and thanks Steve for the Alarm in the morning. I believe some might have actually missed there’s back!

So Paris, what can I say. Only I could write a whole 2 pages on the place without mentioning the main attractions. There’s always next time…..

(Photos all stolen/borrowed from Harbott and Dalton, Cheers Fellas)

London - The duChat has Landed

The thing about London is that there seem to no surprises, nothing that someone before you hasn’t done, and therefore plenty of advice as to what Not to do. But I say rubbish to their advice, so in the true Elderstatesmen way I’ll make them all again…some even twice.

First weekend as per is always a blur, but was actaully able to see some of Londons sights, this being my 4th visit here having not seen any bridge, palace or abbey yet! My Friend Jackie was over for a few days, so took the opportunity to see some of famous places. Kind of beats the Postcards.....

I had booked a lovely room in Hotel Ward, complete with Street side views and TV at the end of the sofa. Amanda and Joe welcomed me into there home like they child the never had, and frankly didn’t want! Bless them. My first real taste of the Backpacker lifestyle…Dosing! The first week was a nice relaxed beginning to my time here, but this was soon shattered with the arrival of Marty “String ‘em up” Veal fresh from the Orient and looking for a sparing partner in any bar around London. So being jobless i slipped into the role fast, who was I to turn down midday drinking while watching cricket!

I’d love mention the Vodka incident the following Saturday night at the Halloween Party, but to be completely honest I have no clue as to what transpired after that bottle was finished. But I’d sincerely like to apologise to the chap dressed in the Kiss outfit for breaking his Axe….and to Marty , the bouncers and most of all the coat check girl for spending at least 20min searching for my ‘Lost’ leather jacket…which I’m happy to report was found about 2hrs later sitting on the couch at home, having never left the house. Top work on my behalf! Well move on shall we!

A few weeks later Harbott and a few lads were over for the AB’s V England match at Twickers, which was a beauty. The Previous night we all met up in down town London. With Ward, Veale and myself holding fort waiting for the rather tardy Harbott (on 6 hour journey from Dublin, bi-plane i think), Sandy and Emma turned up. Then Leper, fresh from Canada! After what turned out to be an all day session on the Ciders we all decided to push on and find another bar in the Convent Garden area. The smell of fresh hot dogs and fried onions got the better of us, so we loaded up. You see in London there must be a dodgy hot dog stand every 20m, armed with this info we decided to tuck into our 2^nd course at the next sand. This is where it gets a little strange. As we waited for ‘Hasim’ to prepare the dogs, a Van full of under cover cops pulls up and 6 lads jump out and being to arrest ‘Hasim’ for illegal hot dogging! With out a word of a lie, they shut off the gas, and cuffed the poor bastard. Not letting an opportunity pass, I decided to dig into the ‘Evidence’ and we all got away with free dogs! Once word spread to the other Doggers, panic was rife…..hot dogs were going for basement prices! Tragic really…we were all full as fuck!

The game was a cracker, and there is nothing like smashing the poms on there sacred home turf! Girls Aloud at full time was special, thought they played better than the pommie back line.

Ireland - Some of the Best

So my time in Ireland came to a predictable end, a blur of going away do’s and impromptu send offs. The 2 best nights were the work send off and then the next week my final weekend in Dublin. Was really cool to gather of all my friends I have meet in Ireland over the past year.

On the Friday (Oct 6th) I met up with all my work crew. Much to my suprise a good turnout was there, must have thought I was going to do a shout..haha...fools! Cheers Team! Was a really good time, and will cherish all those memories, well up until memory loss kicked in around midnight! For those I’ll just see the photos!

Saturday involved a good night out in Town with all the Kiwi and Aussie travels I have collected, and call friends! Another top notch night on the gas in Dublin, perfect send off it has to be said. So to all the crew Cheers, love ya work.







Although most nights went smoothly, there was one exception; A night of random drinking with Troy after my last day at work. We headed out to a local for a celebratory pint, which lead to a 3am finish. After surveying our limited options of transport, we foolishly decided upon one of the local Rickshaw operators to get us safely home! Wrong. Now these are two words that don’t belong together on a page – Safely and Rickshaw. I would dearly love to fix the blame squarely on our inept eastern European driver, lets call him Sergey. But that would be unfair. You see after stopping for a hearting (Of the arteries) feed on route, I decided in all my infinite wisdom to help old Sergey out. Jumping from my seat I proceeded to help push the little rickshaw past it’s record speed (Which I believe is somewhere between the speed of smell and Rush hour traffic). What we failed to do was centre the load, this being Troy, and as we rounded a rather sharp bend……..we produced the kind of action stunt more at home in the chariot race from gladiator! Sending all 3 flying across the road and onto the pavement! Fortunately I came away unscathed, Troy however boor the brunt on his right hand, which swelled up like a little fat kids! The real winner of this was my Garlic fries, which I’m happy to report were left in perfect condition (well until I devoured them). We never saw Sergey again…last seen heading in the wrong direction, cursing something like 'Fuckin Foreigners' , couldn't agree more myself!



So a few more little gatherings finally ended my time in Ireland, which will go down as probably one of the best years in my life. To say I enjoyed the place and people would be an understatement akin too saying the Irish only like the odd drink. When looking back on my 12 months there it only brings good memories, the place is just so easy to live in and get around. Kind of like an alternative version of New Zealand. Amazing scenery, landscapes and a rich enduring history that you can’t help but get caught up in. For most of us Kiwi’s we really only hear the English side to the tales, but hearing the history of Ireland and trying to learn as much as possible was a real special aspect of my time there. And of course the people, which we all know are just brilliant. I can’t recall over the past year of ever meeting an Irish person who was rude to us. In ever bar and town they are just so welcoming. You can strike up a convo with anyone in a bar/train/cab ect, and generally they start them. Also meet some really great Kiwi and Aussie friends who I’ll hopefully have as friends for many years to come. It’s funny, from the 1st day there Harbott and myself really only knew 2 people, but by the end we had gained a whole new group of mates…I spouse that’s why we travel!

Right enough of the sentimental bullshit! On to London

Work Drinks @ O'Sheas

Welcome Back old Friend

First off esteemed friends, I must apologise for my lack of correspondence on this blog for the past Months. For answers to this literary absence you could blame lack of inspiration, but that would be untrue. Perhaps lack of imagination, but for I have plenty. Even boredom hold no sway, No my friends the answer to this rather mundane mystery……is…well….buggered if I know! I’ve been busy?

We are in count down mode over here currently, T minus…about 3 weeks. You see people our most important asset while travelling is running low. VISA. With no real way of overstaying, and the unappealing thought of dodging immigration again, the chaps are looking yonder for our thrills. With this in mind we have been trying to squeeze as much out of, and into our stay in Ireland as possible over past 6 weeks. Its been some of the best in the last few months, with summer winding doen the Irish try and get every dam ounce of fun out it, and as guests its our duty to make sure we full our boots! And believe me folks we certainly grabbed it by the ears and gave a dam good shake. So set the phaser to Stun feed the cat, check the roast and sit back for the highlights package of the best bits (in no particular order)!

MUSIC

Lets kick off with the Music round up, which as you know has been really kicking along over here. We headed to Billy Joel @ Croke Park a few weeks back, fantastic concert.

I won’t bore you all with the details, but listening to Piano Man live will be a highlight in my years to come – Surprisingly one of the enduring memories was not of Billy, but one of his roadies. He was given the mic at the break, and decided to belt out AC/DC’s highway to hell! Classic stuff. And his name….Chainsaw! Just about brought the dam place down.

Also caught up with Jimmy Barnes. The old Aussie crooner was in particularly good ear drum shattering form. Headed along with my Dublin Convict connections and Jimmy didn’t disappoint. He really is a throw back to the old days, when a man could just grab the nearest mic and scream (LOUD)! Ears were dead set bleeding within 10min. He played most of the Cold Chisel classics, which was good because I couldn’t tell you any of his new shit! See Khe Sanh Below..special

But the Real Musical highlight of the past few months was the Oxegen Festival. Harbott, Tok’s and myself headed along to Punchers town, to experience this 2 day riot of sound! And what a weekend it was. Some of the acts included: The Red Hot Chillies, The Who, James Brown (My black father), Artic Monkeys, Kaiser Chiefs, Strokes, Ben Harper, Pharrell Williams, Franz Ferdinand, Eric Morillo some DJ’s…over 120 acts. You get the picture. The weekend is really like back to back Big Day Outs with a sleep over in the middle. This part of the world is mad on these things, there must be about 20 big festivals over the summer period, so the choice is maddening, as anyone that has lived in Europe can say.

See some of our mate Matt's photos - Oxegen

Paddy Wagon Tour - Tour Pics

So in between the musical interludes we have managed a few weekends out of Dublin. Prob the only one to talk about was the Paddy Wagon tour with the 6 lads. The Paddy Wagon tour is a Contiki of sorts, but with added Irish Charm, which in our case was Trooper. If this prick was on the brochure the owners would be singing for there supper. He was a true classic, I lost count of his swearing the F word by the time the bust hit the first set of lights.

Anyway, the tour was for 3 days to the Irelands lovely West Coast. Taking in the seaside town of Galway and the idyllic country village of Killarney. This is quite a hike, but was well worth it. Check out a map, basically the bottom left hand chunk was to be our stomping ground for 3 days.

We all meet at around 8am, sprightly and alert from a quiet Friday night spent at home. Well one of us anyway, with all the lads out on the gas in Dublin. Twats! As with any transport in Ireland ours was 60min late, and not a Paddy Wagon bus…top start! Making a bee line for the back seat the lads took up residence for the ride. Seamus, Sam, Manu, Tok’s, Troy and yours truly. Trooper laid down the rules, well I think they were. And we were off. I won’t bore you with sightseeing updates, these were the historical highlights – Castle, cemetery, castle, shrine, castle, bridge, peat, cliff, river, castle.

We all had to introduce ourselves to the rest of the bus, Trooper asked the ‘Kiwi’ lads to go first. After much haggling I decided to kick proceedings of, regaling the bus with some old Nam stories, my troubled childhood and my repugnance towards pigmy’s. But the real star of the show was Tok’s, this his speech in full:

Hi, my names Aaron Tapsil, I’m from New Zealand, I’m an All Black and I came to Ireland to make Love…that hasn’t worked so I thought I would take a Paddy Wagon Tour!

We all thought the poor Portuguese bastard to follow was going to have a hard time beating that, until he said:

My name is Ricardo, I’m from Portugal. I was meant to be on the Belfast tour, but it was full…so I had to come on this one! - All said in broken English, dead serious. Just about pissed my pants laughing! (Maybe you had to be there). So with Ricardo as our new reluctant best-friend we trucked onto Galway, City by the Sea.

We had a plan for the night; the plan was simple, like my brother Tom. But unlike Tom, this plan just might work. The lads had all decided to don the Dead Man suits. You might recall the last outing for these bad boys was on St Pats day back in march. I also believe that was the last time they were actually cleaned. Anyway, the chaps all looked super sharp as we hit Galway’s night life. As luck would have it Galway Race week was in full swing, so the place was packed tighter than a coat rack at an RSA on ANZAC day!

The actual dynamics of the night are some what muddled. We all headed for Dinner with the Paddy crowd, then broke ranks and headed for Galway central, which was actually only a 30 Step stroll! Having experienced some rather large gatherings in recent times, I really think Galway was hitting above its weight, similar to watching Andy Waite chatting up a super model. We knew getting thru this crowd was going to be a challenge. Galway’s centre is basically in the shape of the letter A, which as luck would have it was our letter of the day along, with T and the number 5.

The brilliant thing about Galway during the Festival and Race weeks, is drinking on the streets. In any other town around, you would be asked to pour out the pint, but in this place they actually give the option of a plastic pint! After doing a lap of dis-honour, and actually running into people we knew (Which was rather a few people, we is very popular over here), finding a good place to settle in, or more precisely a line of sight to the bar, was essential. The suits proved to be a smash hit again, some locals actually thinking we had been at the races, others thinking we were just wankers, and who am i to argue with logic. All the lads eventually went there separate ways, all convening at the hostel in the morning, well that was the plan. Upon emerging in the morning, all sporting fresh and rather painful hangovers, we discovered one of the group had not quite made it the required 400m back to the hostel. Instead, deciding on ‘Alternative’ accommodation across town! Now, this under usual circumstances is all good, but with a feisty bus driver and 9am kick off, he was fucked. As the bus pulled out (No metaphor), we all bid farewell to Galway and also to a lost comrade! They say in War that you should never leave a man down…..well fuck him, this isn’t war. So we packed his bags and left him to fend for himself…..which I’d imagine was rather tough, having to spend the rest of his weekend wearing one suit, 70’s style.

For those struggling to spot the missing man, just see the photos…clearly obvious who is missing! Filthy Filthy swine of a man!

So it was off to Killarney in Co. Kerry, via the Cliffs of Moher. These puppies stand at 700m High! So after peaking over the edge and grabbing a fresh set of underwear, it was across the Shannon river to our destination for the night. I really have little to say about Killarney, due to the fact that we arrived in at 6pm, had quick shower and were straight out on the gas. But it looked really nice! (Heathen).

We ended up heading to a restaurant with the paddy crew, nice place. As most nights do this one started slow, mainly due to the large night before and still having vertigo from those fuckin cliffs. Incidentally we worked out that it takes a rock about 7-8 sec to hit the water, its amazing how far NZ maths can take a group of 6! I also believe they loose a few plucky tourists every year (Prob the Eastern Europeans), unfortunately we weren’t lucky enough to time one of them falling but suspect they wouldn’t beat a rock!

Sorry, I digress. At the restaurant shots were had –

Also a Haka was requested, so 3 of the lads got up and belted one out. 2 Maoris and a whitey, so I didn’t think they would need my talents. We headed to a mint cocktail bar and dived right into the 4 Euro drinks (This was a bargain), after an hour or 2 the tour leader Trooper announced we were heading to another bar, which he assured us was ‘The Best Bar’ in town! Riiigggghhht!

So we all left the cheap drinks and talent to find ourselves in the d arkest dingiest bingo hall in Ireland. We walked in to be greeted with 70+ Blue rise gangs, local council looking types and a freakish amount of hippies. WTF. This place had all the promise of the Ivory Coast Ice hockey team. Reassured by Trooper that the band was going to go off, we grabbed a pint. Then the Band hit the stage, your traditional Irish rock band. The age range must have been 50 years, with the Drummer being well into his 70’s, must have been his fan club we passed at the door. Well, then they started to play, and that was that. We did not leave the room all night, absolutely brilliant. I never had much respect for the piano accordion, but this dude made the thing sound awsome, such an under rated instrument. As for the lead singer, he was just the business, played the Tin of his whislte! Ended the night discovering there was a night club down the back of the joint, full of the ‘locals’….ah no bother.

Finished the night with a 400m sprint back to the hostel before curfew, which is perfect because that’s about the limit to my running abilities at the moment. Good work Killarney, recommend a visit.

Not to much else to report from that tour, headed back to Dublin the next day in bits, but well worth it. Hard to try and remember the dam thing, being over 6 weeks ago.

So I wouldn't say that is the latest, i'll be back next week with some kind of run down.

Jackson and Ward - Twats

The other weekend Harbott and I readied ourselves for 2 visitors from Home. Joe Ward and Fresh from NZ, Andrew Jackson was due to arrive on the Sat for a lazy few nights on the chop! Now the only reason I am putting this on the site, is too high light one mans failings and another mans utter incompetence.

I received a call around midday from Jacko explaining how they were not making the flight. What could it be, terrorism, delayed flight, under sized calves…No …due to him leaving his Passport at Joes place! This from a man currently overseas on a business trip!

Anyhow, another night for duChats and Harbott in front of the fire.

See you next year Jackson!

Jackson and Ward seen here in better form!

Better Recognise Fool

In true bizarre style I was recognised by someone on Saturday afternoon. I'll paint the picture. We decided to watch the AB's game down at the Woolshed (Famed Kiwi Bar) at 10.30am. Now, as one does while watching the Rugby a cheeky pint was ordered. Fast forward to 5pm, and the lads are stumbling to Temple Bar eager to see what theme the masses of Hen parties have chosen tonight. Note: Playboy is so last year, Cow Girls are back ladies!
Sorry, i digress. We were dinking in one of the bars, and happened to strike up a convo with two lads at the bar. About 10min into the riveting convo of the break down of commercialization of the eastern European social fiscal safety pin industry, one of the lads points to Troy and bellows!

Tall Guy: Fuck, I know you!!!

Troy: Oh yes?

Tall guy then pivots…..and points at me

Tall Guy: And you…….and I know where!

Its about now the 2 of us are scrolling through all the drunken mad moments of the past month in out heads, while questioning our minds – Who have I abused, scrapped, pushed, cheated ect! All the while coming up blank!

Troy/Ben: ….and where would that be!

Tall Guy: I saw you both get thrown out of Guns N’ Roses!!!!!!!!!

This chap was standing next to the both of us when we got turfed out, I mean what are the odds. He said it was bloody amusing, and went down pretty much as described, which in its self is a bloody miracle considering our state.

Though I would share team!

StarWars...Wankers

This was quite possably as close to being a Jedi as one can get! View and weep my little padwans!

Castle de Ranelagh - Madness

A few weeks ago we decided to have a little gathering of like minded individuals. This was to be a small celebration for Harbott's Birthday, and also nicely coincided with our Kiwi neighbors Nathan and Sarah’s going away bash. Little did we foresee the debauchery that followed. We also had Joe Ward flying in for the night, as he called it, the One Night Stand!

The real gem of the day is located below. Our friend Troy decided to turn up with RedBull and Yeager. So as you can imagine some tomfoolery ensued! The below video was taken..and well it really speaks for its self. Ward and Tokaroa doing the Redbull challenge. Enjoy.

Comments are Welcome people!

See the other Videos from the day - Click Here - Castle de Ranelagh Vids

Music is the Way

I awoke on Monday a deadbeat barren shell of a man, with an exaggerated limp, ringing in the ears like an old Chinese gong and a broken Air Guitar!. But it is not all doom and gloom in duChats town, as I had one of my best weekends in Dublin wedged firmly in my belt. Let me regal you in stories from the seedy underbelly of modern rock and metal concerts!

Friday night saw the much anticipated return to the ring for Guns’ N Roses, although Axel Rose being the only member still belting out the hits. Bless him, he looks like has had an argument with an angry plastic surgeon, we’ll from my angle anyway. He has got a few other people together to reform. I’ll jump straight to it. He was bloody awesome, as were the rest of the band. But to be honest, this isn’t his website, so back to me!

Troy and myself decided an early finish on the Friday would be the best angle of attack. So after a quick pint at the local on the way home, we picked up some supplies at the off-license. Meaning we got 6 beers and a bottle of JD’s, which on reflection might have been a wee bit over the top considering we only had about 2hrs till concert time! But as we are both seasoned campaigners we quickly put these thoughts to the side. Anyway, sunk a few in the back yard of Castle de Ranelagh in Dublin’s finest sunshine……and cranked on the best of GnR.

Excitement of events can often lead to over consumption early and fast, these such times have been well documented within any social group. Need I remind people of Kirsty Roberts famous Western Party, Globetrotter Playboy bash, Early New Years experiences or perhaps a Big Day Out. So with this history in mind, I’ll push on!

A couple hours later we headed of to the concert in high spirits, being just a 20 min walk down the road, we skipped our way to the RDS to watch the band play some ‘Tunes’, chatting with all the lovely fans along the tree line route! Oh, Dublin in the Summer!

Can all of my Parents stop reading now! Please, this next part might leave you with lesser feelings for me!

The above is what I like to describe as white lie, in other words utter bullshit, on the other hand below is the hazy truth. Because after having a few beers, what better way than to get into a GnR comeback gig than drinking our old friend JD and coke! We finished the bottle, much to our surprise and headed in a cab to the gig. Security at this place was about as tight as a leaper convention, meaning Troy walked right in with a bottle of JD’s & Coke, which is were I believe the term – Straw that broke camels back – came from! Drunker than a Portuguese out house. Now boyed by our sneaky luck, we headed to a nice quiet spot up in the Mosh pit and settled in! Axel was in full swing, all the classics, My Michelle, Welcome to the Jungle, It’s so easy, Mr Brownstone…….

This is where things take a turn, after a solid few songs of hard moshing we decide a better view is needed, so up on Troy’s shoulders for a cheeky peek at the 35,000 fans. Hands in the air, singing loud! Brilliant. Well, until some shit pushes us off balance and I end up on top of the mosh pit, Crowd surfing, which I have to admit I enjoyed. Until I remembered (Not sure how) the line on my GnR ticket at the bottom (Below General Admission)! Exibit A….oh shit.

Involuntary crowd surfing is hardly a sound defense, but it’s all I had. The security grabbed hold of me and Troy, then attempted to hurl us over the railings! We was being chucked out of Guns’ N Roses no more than 6 songs in! Not with out a fight I tell you, it took more paddies to pull me out than an All Black ruck….all the while I was screaming “I’m an innocent man….” Troy took the less travelled route and decided to flatten one of them. Next minute we are on the Street, me with a gammy limp and minus a phone, the Troyster earned him self a tender jaw for his trouble. But the never say die ANZAC sprit kicked in, as we searched for alternate routes back into the ground. Tried jumping fence, got caught. Tried casually walking in, got turned away. In the end it took a rather elaborate story of just landing from Australia to convince the young lass on the door to let us in again! Brilliant, no more than 2 songs later we were back in and rocking! Just in time for November Rain!

After the gig we headed back to Castle de Ranelagh, were a full scale party had broken out. We have really brought the neighbors together, Melrose place styles…with out the swimming pool, good looking people and scandal! About 4 hours later the place was alive to the sounds of AB’s v Ireland, that was hard work! Followed by BYC then out for drinks with the lads. Another great night in Dubbers!

Also had the Metallica gig on the Sunday night, which was brilliant. Capping of a great weekend. No real great yarns other than Dublin has a high percentage of munters. It was very funny walking to the Gig and seeing all the fans of the Eagles (Playing up the road) converge with the Metallica fans….oil and water.

Will be posting the Yarn about the Brazil game at some stage, but seeing as Geneva was not the most reverting place, I have to make up a good story to keep you all interested!

Take care

STOP PRESS – I almost forgot to add the highlight of the night – After our triumphant return to the Gig, they played Sweet Child O Mine……this my friends was probably my best Air Guitar moment ever. Picture me, in full strut, grinding the Axe to the sultry sounds of the gunners, 35,000 people watching! Make me Proud!

Switzerland Here We Come

Well folks, the Elderstatsmen plus Dan and Lisa are off to the Mountainous terrain of Geneva to watch the Mighty All Whites put pay to the over the top Brazilian show boats!

Yes folks the eternal optimists are on the road, Setting ourselves up for a major fall, we’ll be accepting nothing less than NZ victory. Has there been a bigger under dog in world sport. Brazil rated 1st - New Zealand 118th.

If we can’t muster a win on the pitch, sure well put in a good show in the stands! Lads are going for the Beige Cricket Uniform. Should be a fair swag of Kiwi’s going, so watch this space for a ripper update of European shenanigans.

Ronaldinho, eating the World Cup.....still ugly as a bucket load of assholes, but dam good! See this - Video Note: Might not be completly real...but you get the idea

Bon Jovi

I woke on the Saturday morning with an extra sping in my stride, for tonight I was in 80's soft rock heaven. The world famous Bon Jovi, with heart throb Jon up front and amature porn star Richie Sambora on lead guitar, live in Irelands biggest stadium. 80'000 sceaming fans.

Funny thing is, before I got myself a cheap ticket, if you had asked me if Bon Jovi were still touring I would probably have said No. Selling out an 80,000 seat staduim, your dreaming. Well in the emortal words of W Bush, I might have 'mis-underestimated' the old Glam rockers.

After watching the Munster Rugby team deal to the dirty cheese eating surrender monkeys from Barritz in the Hieneken cup final, I caught up with my mate Troy and his 2 Australian friends, Mark and Sarah to head to the gig. Moving straight into 2nd gear, Jim Beam was the order of the afternoon. A short cab ride and then a dodgie stroll through to Croke Park, we were greated with quite an array of Jovi supporters. From the very young, to ageing old mums squeezing into there leathers from the back of the closet, not the best look but rather entertaining.

The lads really put on a good show, but I really only new about 30% of the songs, but they did play some classics. Living on a Prayer, Dead or Alive and Shot thru the Heart! Special. See the videos below.



In the end, was really cool. But only issues i had with Jon.....No 'Blaze of Glory'. I was all ready to scream that puppy out, but no dice. Bastard even teased me with 3 bloody encores...I mean honestly who does 3 of them with out playing the best song they had!!!!!!! You could feel the pain in the crowd....or maybe it was just me. If there has been a bigger travisty in concert history i'd be dam suprised. But was a good night anyway. Croke park is one hell of a ground, and look forward to getting there for some sport, or even a bit of Billy Joel in July.

Next up the Munta weekend from Hell June 9 - Gunners and Metallica.

Were Back

First of all, an apology to all those ‘Elder Statesman’ fans who have been eagerly awaiting the next installment of the Statesman files. Excuses, as always, involve ramblings of poor time management and lack of energy. But in the end Ireland’s favorite kiwi’s are back on the web, so sit back for a recap of the last month or so! There is a lot to get thru folks, so be patient, and I’ve split them up to give the more ‘feeble’ of you a shot at getting through them with out loosing your place.

WARNING: Reoccurring theme

See 3 x Posts Blow Team

Stung in London

Joe Ward, he of the large posterior and thinning crop, invited Harbott and myself over for a nice relaxing weekend to watch his rugby team (London Wasps) play London Irish in the English premiership. The idea of returning to London after last years fateful trip caused much anguish with the Elder Statesman, but undaunted we pressed on with our plans. We decided, in our infinite wisdom, that we would head over on the Saturday afternoon on the cheap flight. And then back at midday on the Monday (Bank Holiday), which ultimately provided our final downfall.

So off to Airport, and flight delayed. 1-0 Airport. Harbott heads into duty free to buy some Whiskey for the flight, to calm our nerves. Except, its more like Duty without the free….same price as normal, infact more. 2-0 to the Airport. End up most of the way thru bottle on subsequent flight, and 1.5 hour train ride to Wards house. This travel time came as a surprise to the both of us, because we thought ‘the Wards’ actually lived close to the city center, when on closer inspection (Actual ride in train) we discovered Ealing Common (apt name) was not within a fuckin country mile of the fact. No bother!

We arrived rather happy, and after some initial catch up with the Girls, we headed out to meet up with Duncan Wilson, Leyton and Paul Booth……South Kensington anyone!!! Another 1 hour tube ride followed, only to be greeted with London’s drunkest kiwis, well it was special. An early afternoon session had put pay to any sensible conversation, so the lads did there talking via Tequila shots and some Vodka concoction. (Note Ambulance in back ground...not sure why)

Queue Wilson attempting to shake hands with Harbott and duChats via the medium of a clenched fist to the mouth….nice work champ. A quick DDT out the front of the bar put pay to Wilson’s night, and we headed off for greener pastures…..or Putney! 3 Lads tried too get into a nightclub, but the Alabama porch monkey on the door decided we weren’t the clientele they were looking for….what 3 steaming drunk kiwi’s!!! Blah off home to bed.

So the next day Amanda, Harbott and myself headed to High Wycombe for Joe’s game. Had really cool seats in the players area, the ground only seats about 12,000 meaning it was really intimate…cosy infact. The game turned out to be amazing with 14 tries scored, 3 of those before I had sat down with our beer. Unfortunately Joe and the twins weren’t able to engineer a win and the Wasps went down 37-56, but the score line was not a true reflection of the game. So the night was off to a good start.

We then waited for Ward to scrub up, and managed to meet his coach Ian McGeechan after Harbott dispensed some honesty calls on old Geech, he managed to secure Joe another 10min game time for next week. Poor Ward was at this stage pinker than a slapped arse, as his two mates embarrassed him from pillar to post. Next up this young girl comes up to Ward for the obligatory signature, he grabs pen and signs the page (his face to be more precise) and I casually ask the young lass who he is…….she looks him dead in the face, shrugs shoulders and finally points to his now defaced player profile! Brilliant.

To be honest it’s just jealousy from the Lads, but fuckin worth it. Ricky Flutey was also there waving the NZ/Maori flag aloft, with his combination of number ones and jandals, to mickey bro.Anyway before leaving the ground we stopped by the Souvenir store for the Joe Ward No. 16 jumper, but we must have just missed out because there were none on the racks..Buggar.

We piled into cab’s back to London, 40min cab ride, to the Wards house for a pitstop. Downed a few more and then headed out into Fulham, the Stags head I believe, meeting up with Sandy. Now it’s at this point things were getting messy. Car sickness is a ghastly issue, but when its not your car it makes for interesting state of affairs, and this was such a scenario. Young Harbott, having endured 60min worth of cab ride combined with the London cabbie BO, need to vent. Tactics were required if we were to stay on time, so Ward and myself engaged the driver in some witty repartee while Harbott sent his last meal onto the roads of London…well he thought!

We managed to get to the pub, and upon exit of the cab, we were all greeted with the site of the door completely covered in spew…..a crowd had gathered and were also enjoying the humor of it. Took me a good 10min to recover from it.Harbott recons the Cabbie must have made fuck all due to his new ‘Client Repellant Door’….to funny.

We all hit the Stags head, well like a Stag and were right into it. A few of the Girls from home were there, Katie, Cindy and Sandy. Hadn’t seen Sands for at least 1 year, so was great catching up with her. We then headed to another bar down the road, but at this stage we were all well and truly cooked. So off home. Where Ward decided to play Chef!

See the video below for drunk’d antics of Joe and myself.

The weekend had been problem free till this next point. London = Travel. We kind of got the distance and time needed to get to Airport completely incorrect. Infact we weren’t even fuckin close to catching our 12:00pm plane. Thinking leaving Wards with 2.5 hrs to spare would be plenty, it suddenly dawned on us ‘we was wrong’. So after a frightfully boring 4 hour wait we were on a plane home. Airports 3 – Elder Statesman – 0

God I hate airports.

We did have great Donut when returning home, got to see the Kaiser Chiefs live at Dublin Castle, care of Sean. Was Brilliant. The start of the music season. Bring it on.