Hello,
With the Soccerball World Cup in Brazil starting next week and football fever building, here is an old story from our friend The Tight Fisted Traveller on how he managed to travel to Brazil for free last year.
This is taken from his handy reference book– “The Coke Smugglers Guide to Latin America”.
Chapter 23 – “Brazil It’s An Amazon Place!”
Day 1 – London – Steal bicycle – nip to French mens outfitter’s “Moi?” – purloin traditional French garb of beret, Breton shirt, moustache and string of onions – stare in shop window and practice nonplussed facial expression whilst shrugging shoulders – I am French!
Day 1 – London – Bike ride to Dover hampered by dangling onions – but I am French now so shrug shoulders and blockade motorway to protest.
Day 3 – Dover Harbour – Stowaway on French Minesweeper SS “Mai Oui”.
Day 4 – English Channel – My disguise allows me to mingle with the crew who smoke continually, argue about the true meaning of Sartre and make vegetable soup which is slurped down with Gallic aplomb.
Day 5 – English Channel – The crew take me to heart after Je suis discovered akip in torpedo tube – sing the Edith Piaf classic – “A Citroen Backfires – Paris Surrenders” become overnight internet sensation on Vous Tube.
Day 6 – Cherbourg – no sign of Cher sadly – I am smuggled ashore by crew who wish to continue discussing Sartre and their nation’s affliction for permanent nonplussedness. After emotional farewells involving mass spontaneous shoulder shrugging – I cycle south for Spain.
Day 8 – Cherbourg (still) – Dangling onions still a problem and the false moustache causing further drag issues on Bike – c’est la vie – blockade service station toilets in protest.
Day 9 – Cherbourg (still) – Tour de France sweeps through – Stage 14 to Reims – I join the Peloton – miraculously win the stage and claim the Yellow Jersey. Cite Lance Armstrong and Amphetamine abuse as major factors in my success.
Day 10 Reims – I am uncovered when my dangling onions accidentally throttle leading French rider in Stage 15 – chased by baying mob of French onion loving cyclist philosophers who see this as ghastly “Les Rosbifs” attack on a French sporting institution (but the philosophers ask “is it?”) – Make good my escape by removing the onions from bike and take off false moustache – they’ll never spot me!
Day 10 – Reims- Arrested by French police. Blockade my cell in protest.
Day 13 – Reims – Released – am offered a lift by Heineken sozzled Dutch shykling fansh – Wim and Piet Mine Der Gap who are following the Tour – Their camper van roof sports a giant detachable clog and a windmill – “Krayshee Ja!” Wim and Piet keep saying – I am hidden in Windmill as we pass through the Pyrenees into Espana. Now I know what Anne Frank must have gone through.
Day 31 – The Spanish Pyrenees – Wim and Piet spin on blades of windmill for three days singing the back catalogue of well known Dutch Prog rock band Focus – they swear rotary turbine spinning cures any hangover – I decouple giant clog and slip quietly into the River Sangria and raft to Madrid.
Day 33 – Somewhere in Iberia – Sailing by clog surprisingly comfortable – draw admiring glances from Spanish Environmentalists who are protesting about tomatoes being grown in greenhouses along riverbanks.
Day 37 – Madrid – How a Brit, disguised as a Frenchman arriving in a giant clog could be construed to be the famous bullfighter “El Flatulente” is beyond me – but I am – carried shoulder high to Las Ventas for a spot of “Death in the Afternoon”.
Day 37 – Madrid – Bullfighting clothes very tight on the old knackers – mince my way into the ring – confronted by a livid Bull called “El Mangler” – my bowels loosen – prance like John Wayne with piles – realise my sword is actually a shop bought Star Wars light sabre without batteries – I have to make the droning noise myself – El Mangler sees the sword, recalls he is part Sith and then does a passable Darth Vader impression – becomes internet sensation on Tu Tube – I am carried shoulder high by adoring fans out of the arena – with only a wonky shop bought Star Wars light sabre without batteries as a trophy.
Day 38 – Madrid – I hitch a lift in a lorry driven by a reticent Serb war criminal, Goran – cargo is artificially grown tomatoes hidden in statues of Picasso.
Part 2 Tomorrow! To Lisbon and Beyond……..
I must have that clog…perhaps with sales
Try Clogs R Us – they have a sail on at the moment!
Possibly draining?
Possibly!
Big smiles…. and be careful if you are travelling by Clog too Ginger, I hear they can have a nasty odour,
Enjoy your week ‘Kicking it around’ the footy field..
Nick Clog!
LOL! nice one!
Sacre Blue. J’ai blowallez vin through le nez. Tres humerouz
Mais Oui!
My favorite Piaf song — sung with such nonplussedness.
And a nonchalant shrug
TFT needs his own television show. All the travel shows now don’t measure up in terms of his cultural sensitivity.
And in the post above, the sausage really suits Simon Cowell.
Cheers
Was he wearing the clogs in the bull ring? They really must be comfortable!
One flew off, landed on the bull’s horn and was instrumental in saving his behind
Once again I learn so much! This will all come in amazingly handy on our summer travels. Thanks for sharing! 😀
We are a public service if nothing else!
Day 4 – English Channel – My disguise allows me to mingle with the crew who smoke continually, argue about the true meaning of Sartre and make vegetable soup which is slurped down with Gallic aplomb.
“Le har har har!”
Day 8 – Cherbourg (still) – Dangling onions still a problem…
“If I had a quarter every time my deceased Aunt Gertrude said that to me…”
My guess is you would have 2 quarters!