So we thought after the day’s hectic tooing and froing we’d forgo the shiny fabricked splendours of Euroclub at Arena to get with the locals at a Cossack restaurant.
Well it was a slightly touristy joint as it turned out, but the waiters had impressive trousers and there were plenty of weapons on the wall all the same. Any road, we were sat there, coughing over honey and pepper vodka, listening to the folksy band breaking into a bizarre fluted up version of that Celine Dion shipwreck song when the atmosphere was suddenly rent with quite the most horrific sound. “Dunk dunk donk dunk… love will bring you up…”
Yup, the Irish were in the house, and they insisted on playing their song. Loudly, and against the management’s better wishes.
Fortunately they put us out of their misery and came and unplugged the speakers in our section, but the damage was done. But little Joe, bless him. He’s scarcely more than a ginger foetus with specs. We waved at him, and after the brief confused look, he gave us a hearty gurn back. We suspect we’ll be having plenty more wholesome fun with this little chap. I wonder if we can get him on the real crack before then end of the week…