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We did win the quiz, so are all going to be heading home with new cameras. I don’t know why more people didn’t think of getting themselves a little Wikipedia assistance in a room swamped by wifi and filled with PDAs.

Breakfast was very difficult, but not nearly so difficult as getting out of bed. Staying at Hurricanes until well into Thursday morning was not such a good move. None of us could talk properly, and we took a constant stream of coffee into the morning sessions to keep us awake.

Fortunately the afternoon consisted of heading out in the sun to take photos, which we then came back to print, so we could all drift around the park by foot and so avoid drifting off entirely.

Even so, I think we were all glad when it came to an end and we could slouch in the NYC Bar, which has become our regular watering hole over the last week before heading off to Billy Bob’s, the wild-west themed bar where the compere wears a Union Jack waistcoat and the entertainment is a strange mix of can-can, gunslinging (Marc hit the floor at the sound of the first shot) and risky-looking whip cracking.

Rather predictably, it all turned very silly. David, the shortest of our group, posed with the tallest man we could fine, we all did terrible impressions of the mad hair waiter from the chateau, much to the amusement of the Fins who photographed the entire UK delegation in a series of unflattering random poses, and Simon told us the story of the weight-sensing Disney toilet he’d used somewhere in the park. It was set up to clean itself whenever it detected you’d lifted up off the seat. Good in theory, except the sensor was broken, so every time he shuffled it went into its cleaning cycle and sprayed jets up at him, which turned any sheets of loo roll you tried to use into a fragile wet mush.

James trumped it with the story of the time he was flying a dodgy local airline in China; both pilot and co-pilot walked down the cabin of the rickety old bag of nails, it lurched forwards and slightly down, the cockpit door slammed shut behind them and locked, and they were forced to hack it open with a fire axe.

Perhaps inevitably we ended up back in Hurricanes after Billy Bob’s closed and danced until about three, making a resolution to leave and then staying longer when they started to play A-ha. When we did eventually make it back to the hotel, Maryam gallantly sorted out a taxi.

This entry was posted on Friday, June 30th, 2006 at 3:13 pm and is filed under Europe, Work. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.