headed off to get some supplies from the supermarket and whilst there, we had lunch in the restaurant above. Mouldy and Big Jock must have smelt more rich than usual today because the rest of the crew members moved to another table to eat their fodder. Big Jock believes that the elite should always be segregated from the riff raff and that was why Mouldy and him were sat at the top table whilst the rest of the brigands were deposited aft in the cheap seats. Cheeky bastards!
After another run in with the feckin jormans at passport control, we managed to find a ferry that would take us across the lake. We still can't fathom out why Bomber took a left up a dead end street but it put Mouldy into a flat spin and we all agreed that he really should start smoking his cigars again. This trip is definitely not the time to give up!
Benger got a bit irate with the Ferry Marshall because his mastery of the English language was poor compared to Benger's which was brilliant. Suffice to say that we got on the ferry but the Ferry Marshall had had the last laugh. We landed 14 miles shy of Friedrichshaven - the bastard had put us aboard the wrong feckin ferry. How does it go Bomber? "Feckin jorman bastard!" Big Jock kept on thinking "this is feck all like the Heroes of Telemark" but wasn't taking any chances and kept his passport and cash close by during the crossing.
Once on the other side we all headed to the airport and the impending arrival of the MILFS. After many attempts to park a murtahurm in a space designated for a SMART car, it was off to the bar for refreshments. There was an escape attempt made at this point by Benger, James and Bomber, who had took it upon themselves to head into town for some liquid courage, but their escape attempt failed at the first hurdle. Big Jock, who could read German, noticed that the boys were waiting on the wrong side of the road for the bus. When he quizzed them about the timings of the bus and the trains into town he quickly realised it was safer to herd them back into the airport bar for their safety, and so that it would be them greeting the MILFS and not him!
Whilst taking in the sun on the rooftop terrace bar and topping up their tans prior to the MILFS arrival, Bomber and Benger heard a squeal from behind them and turned around to see Big Jock covered from head to foot in beer. Big Jock had leaned on a metal guardrail that had constantly absorbed heat since sunrise and which had attained the temperature of Piper Alpha. The prompt removal of his arm from the aforementioned hot spot had culminated in him throwing his beer all over himself. Bomber and Benger nearly laughed out a kidney!
Whilst preening himself and making a damn fine effort I hasten to add, Bomber enlisted the help of young James to assist him in the removal of some unwanted facial hair. Bomber is now missing a patch of moustache below his right nostril because James got a bit too enthusiastic and took a larger handful than was actually necessary. Bomber's moustache is now lopsided, ha, ha.
"H" hour arrived and the MILFS were greeted by two panting puppy dogs. The large pool of saliva surrounding them was embarrassing. First impressions certainly counted.
We are now on route to Souz via Kloisters.
To be continued................
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