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Chesty Bumluv

New Years in the Czech Republic |

Spent the long weekend over New Years in Prague and Cesky Krumlov (renamed Chesty Bumluv by Vicki) with the usual rabble of misfits and alcoholics, numbering 23 in total. Despite the influx of tourists the Czech Republic is still ridiculously cheap. Average £1 for a beer in a bar.

Flew into Prague Friday night, dropped the gears at the hostel and headed out for few of the aforementioned cheap beers. Most headed home around 12.30am, however Hand Shandy Hadlow (Jimmy), Jeremy and myself were lead by Mike Dashwood on a search for a house of ill repute. Mike was ravenous for the smell of fresh meat. It was quite intimidating.

In an attempt to maintain this website’s PG rating, the details of the next few hours are best left locked within Pandora’s box. And having seen Pandora earlier in the night, it is not really in danger of being opened. Except maybe by Adam White.

You always hear lads going on about how beautiful the women are in the Czech Republic. If you never entered a Czech strip club you would believe they were full shit. Hardly saw any. Most were nowhere near as hot as your average kiwi girl...

Arrived back at the hostel about 4am. Up at 9am to check out Prague.

For those that haven’t been, Prague is a beautiful city, even in winter. Having avoided the majority of bombing during the war the architecture is pretty old school. Not Will Ferrell Old School, but still pretty impressive. Unfortunately everywhere we went was rammed with German and Italian tourists.

Boygrove was up at the crack of dawn to check out the sites. We found out in retrospect one site in particular had grabbed his attention - the Museum of Sex Machines. No doubt he has his selotape and Stanley knife out as you read this, crafting his own implements of pleasure.

We all met up at 3.30pm to get a bus Steveo had organised to take us down to Chesky Krumlov, about 2-3 hours south of Prague.

Chesky Krumlov is a UNESCO World Heritage town, and is quite breathtaking. Quite. Best way to get to grips is to check out the photos. The castle had a moat, and instead of water, they had bears in it. Super cool.

I will remember my first night in Chesky for all the wrong reasons, however in some ways it sums up my 2006 about as accurately as possible in 5 minutes of lunacy. After dinner we were all hanging out in the Music Bar having a few drinks. A few of the girls – Steph, Michelle, Katie, and Liz from memory – decided to go and dance on the small dance floor. I feel I need to provide a bit of background on this ‘dancefloor of desire’ as it will put the rest of the story into context later. The dancefloor was raised about 2 feet above the surrounding bar and was encircled by a metal rail. At one end was a brick wall with a gap in it so that those standing on the other side could view the dancefloor. As it happened this is where our group happened to be standing. The only way onto or off of the dancefloor was via a small gap wide enough for a short woman to comfortable rest both her arms on. Mistake Number 1 by Jim – Know your Territory. Know it well.

After a few drinks I decided to join the ladies for a dance, possibly to ‘It’s Raining Men’. There were three other people on the dancefloor apart from the girls, a lady and two men. Mistake Number 2 by Jim: Know who’s territory you are in.

After 5-10 minutes Katie and Liz left and Steph, Michelle and I were left dancing. Shortly after which Steph and Michelle started laughing at something behind me. I turned to find the lady (I assumed she was) dancing right up behind me. It is a little difficult to describe what she looked like as I have attempted to block the following scenes out of my mind. My guess is she was in her late 30’s/early 40’s. About 5ft 5” and although the middle age bulge had not taken over, it had a firm grip (irony to come). And a face like exploded roast beef. This is my reference in Czech women (not including strippers) v NZ girl debate.

Back to the story, I chose to ignore this dancing at first, hoping she would go away. She started to rub herself on me, perhaps marking her territory, which also began to grab the attention of members of our group standing nearby. I turned around and politely asked her to cease and desist her actions as they were making me uncomfortable and there was more to me than just my body. Or something like that. No reaction. I turned back to dance with Michelle and Steph. Mistake Number 3 by Jim: Don’t turn your back on a wild animal. One arm went around my chest, the other came right out of left field and made a beeline for my crotch, not with the close-fisted fury of a James Hadlow nut joust, as I was accustomed to, but open and in grabby-grabby mode.

And then silence. I stood there. Mouth agog. I looked down to see forty year old digits holding my crotch. By this stage all of our group, and a large portion of the bar, were watching. And of course laughing. I grabbed her hand and pushed it away. Mistake Number 4 by Jim: A Fly Swat will not beat off a Bear.

She went in again and grabbed my crotch. I spun and grabbed for the nearest thing to defend myself. It happened to be Michelle. I used her as a shield. This was proving inadequate, so I also grabbed Stephanie and attempted to form a large Dungeons and Dragons +3 Shield with one in each arms. My assailant was not stupid and blocked the only exit from the dancefloor. I charged at her with Michelle and Steph, but it was like trying to scrum down against Carl Hayman and we simply bounced off. I shuffled the girls around the dancefloor, looking for any weakness or possible escape opportunity. As far as I was concerned the room was silent, but I was told later that everyone was watching and cracking up.

It seems Steph and Michelle weren’t that happy at being used as shields. Selfish. I made a mental note to that if I got out of this I would later chastise them for their selfishness. I realised my only hope was to fight fire with fire. I let the girls go and stood there face to face with fear personified. I reached out and grabbed her hand. I began to dance. I danced like I had never danced before. Oh the quick feet, the turns. It was truelly my finest hour. I spun her once towards the exit. I turned her, I spun her twice, and as she reached her full extent I let go. She went flying across the dancefloor and I ran. I ran from that bar like Richie ran that night in Iceland (another story for another day).

It was freezing outside, and I was only in a t-shirt, but I was numb, like a solider who has seen horrific war crimes.

The rest of the holiday was relatively low key after that. There was the usual drunken phone call from Macca at lunchtime “Happy new year goose. Aaarrrrgglllhh...you know I...hey you guys I’m on the phone!...push him in the pool...where are you?...I’m so drunk...mumble, mumble, mumble...Mark Peters get over here you fag!...” etc, etc.

New Years Eve was excellent, great meal at the hotel, fantastic fireworks in the town square, and a house caught on fire. Czech tradition? Who cares. It looked cool. New Years resolutions were out, including Boygrove’s lofty goal of “being more organised in 2007”. He was less impressed with Mark’s business proposition for him – HSBC – Health and Safety Boygrove Corporation.

Shared a room with Hand Shandy Hadlow, Jeremy (in his undersized novelty bed), and Boygrove. After a night on the booze that room did not smell pleasant in the morning. Almost as bad as the Peters bedroom after Sharon has spent a weekend eating cheese curry. Both Jeremy and I had bought earplugs, but we were still woken by Jimmy’s snoring. It was like one constant, unbroken snore. He is the only person know who can snore when the air is on the way out.

The new year did not start well for Hand Shandy Hadlow, with an attempt on his life. Jimmy was standing on a bridge admiring the view in the morning, when a drunken local man walked up to him, grabbed him around the legs and tried to throw him in the river. HSH started laughing, the drunk didn’t seem to appreciate this much, stopped, and punched Jimmy in the chest and walked off.

The poor run of form continued for Jimmy when he decided to pet a couple of horses we came across. He got one male horse so riled up it chased after the other male horse and tried to....PG rated website. Jimmy Hadlow - the 0900 horse whisperer.

Last couple of days were chilled out, still plenty of drinking and not much sleeping. Definitely recommend checking out Chesky Krumlov, but BYO cricket box.

Locations Visited: Prague, Cesky Krumlov, Prague

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