Pictured below is the Druids party that successfully went to, saw and conquered Monte Carlo Cricket Club (that is conquered in its most abstract of senses).

Please note that the tourists had yet to be overcome by the copious quantities of wine quaffed in order to stave off severe dehydration.

The tour kicked off in fine fashion at Rouge Mullet's house where fine wines and selected nibbles were the order of the day. It was at this gathering that the youngest Swainson was introduced to the Druids Cricket Club. Everyone present was delighted to see Alison again and even more delighted that young Miss Emily had chosen to take after mother rather than father.

Speke Aiport is best glossed over (note pleased looks below),

Meanwhile - it was at Speke Airport that someone turned up Edward's volume control.

2 hours, 1000 miles and +10 degrees centigrade later, the Druids were met at Nice Airport by fellow Druid Jimmy Bennett. After boarding a plush coach (see photo below) which was to be theirs for the tour, the Druids were soon on their way to the Hotel in sunny Monaco. Many would have preferred to stay with the adventure holiday girls at the airport, but it was not to be.

Adam "Lear Jet" Pearson (More of whom can be seen on the "Congratulations" page) had already arrived, Yates and Rico (see the Caption Competition on the Stop Press Page) however, failed to appear.

Following a quick wash and brush up, the party made their way to Flashmans Bar followed by the Stars and Bars establishment. One or two smooth chat up lines secured the group a premier table outside the bar to watch the locals wander by. The lady so easily charmed by the Druids claimed she was waiting for 16 or so Englishmen who were a touring cricket team - what a coincidence. By chance we had met Mrs Bennett, Sharon to her friends, and considerably more attractive than Jimmy.

Night drew in and, following a small snack, the Druids made their way to the Rascasse Bar & Restaurant; the promised Grand Prix drivers declined to put in an appearance, so the Druids eventually moved on. This was not before "Kitty" Hope had secured 3 or 4 more contributions to his personal Slush Fund.

Saturday morning saw the sun rise early, earlier than members of the tour anyway, and when the Druids did finally leave the safety of their air-conditioned rooms it was only to be mercilessly beaten by the poker hot rays of a mediterranean sun.

This, of course, had an immediate effect on some of the plumper members of the party who started to perspire when standing motionless. The slightest movement allowed beads of sweat to meet, join and form unsightly torrents of liquid leaving trouser legs.

Back on the air-conditioned coach we set off East for the 40 minute journey to Levens. 30 minutes later the driver decided to head West in the search for the village. A further 20 minutes on, and only after persuading the driver that South really was not a viable option, we headed North into the mountains. The driver's anger at getting lost was taken out on the unfortunate accelerator pedal, which resulted in several high speed hairpin bend manoeuvres.

And so we frollicked along to the tune of "We're In The Self Preservation Society" (see Michael Caine in "The Italian Job"). As the speed of the coach increased so did the distinctly unpleasant green colour in the face of Simon "Ooo er" Corner. Was the tour about to claim its first victim?

Levens appeared on the clear blue horizon minutes later (not a moment too soon for the pea green Mr Corner). At the Hotel we were met with the traditonal French sight of several games of boules being played on the dusty driveway by several traditional swarthy-skinned Frenchmen.

We were then treated to the disticntly untraditional sight of several swarthy-skinned Frenchmen leaping for cover as the coach driver drove imperiously over the top of two games, coming to rest over the third. It has not yet been determined if this wonderful sight has been recorded for posterity on any camera.

A quick sort out of rooms and kit and it was down to the bar for a pre-match snifter - glasses of ice cold rose all round. It was at this point Captain Eaden thought team tactics could no longer be avoided. The starting eleven was more a question of who was vertical, had kit and was prepared to stand in the middle of the field under the midday sun for several hours (for an idea of the conditions try thinking about Sir Alec Guiness in the film Bridge Over the River Kwai).

The ground was just a short stroll from the hotel, no trouble was encountered locating it, it was merely a question of following the crowd of several hundred. Of course one needed to be aware that the crowd composition was 99.5% bovine and 0.5% human.

The track was lovingly pegged out by the Levens' groundsman (manufactured by ICI Fibres Division) at the same time corporate hospitality tents were being erected around the perimeter. More importantly, perhaps, the large, heavy cool boxes had arrived and the barbecue was being coaxed into life.

In eager anticipation of a day's quality cricket, those Druids not required to perform settled down to some serious drinking; none more so than Rouge who was obviously worried that France had a limited supply of beer for immediate consumption. It should of course be noted at this point that Rouge's alcoholic intake was purely medicinal, he was attempting to blot from his mind the worry that he was not in fact on a cricket tour but was actually on a 3 day teaching seminar somehwere in the UK. This internal conflict could only be corrected via dangerously high blood/alcohol levels.

The Druids were aware that his liver could withstand such punishment, but could the quiet hill village of Levens deal with the consequences?

The Game

Monte Carlo CC won the toss and chose to bat, they were not to know about the Druids' secret weapon. We refer of course to "Demon Bowler" - Hugh "Huge" Thompson, a legend in cricketing circles and scourge of many neat scorers. The score book has yet to be printed with sufficient space for his speciality 14 ball overs, the pen has yet to be manufactured with a nib fine enough to squeeze 8 W's into one small box.

However, in a Belt & Braces manouevre, the Druids held one further ace up their sleeve, their very own 5th columnist "Kitty" Hope. Monte Carlo were assured Kitty was a cricketer of the highest order, but the Druids new that devotion to his own club could be relied upon when catches had to be made or runs had to be stopped.

So, the scene was set, the game was afoot, what was to unfold over the next 6 hours would make Druids history.

The Druids Tour story will continue later