So anyway the below always makes me chuckle and takes me back to a time when I was an immense tool yet still managed to care about people while maintaining my tool status.
Heck we all do dumb things when young, THIS I will grant was an a whole different pantheon but still.
STRIKE ONE - we were now illegal entrants, kids don't consider this stuff.
When I left the forces when at 17, a gazillion years ago post the first
gulf war me and my friends needed to blow off some steam and un-stress
so to speak. This basically evolved into a 7 day drinking and party
binge down south Plymouth Portsmouth area.
The messy kick off to this "apparently" was one night in a pub one of our friends said his dad had a boat/yacht he could use when he wanted (we later found out he was supposed to ask first which lead to the stolen report being filed).
So anyway off went five drunken sailors on a jolly boys outing (more drunken lads) on the sea, back then you could berth in a port to take on water etc without going ashore officially (passport etc) which we were doing in France. In our inebriated state, it seemed a good idea to swim ashore and go on a binge session.
STRIKE TWO - BEING A DICK
Some of the (I wont use the term high points) events that occurred are
- Urinating off a famous French landmark (real classy young Andy, sheesh you where a tool)
- French baguette light saber fights under the famous arch (how we didn’t get killed by cars is beyond me)
- A friend renting a scooter, loosing control outside the shop and driving right into water.
STRIKE THREE - ARSON
and the final thing that resulted in a life time ban from france for us all passports revoked and escorted back to British soil by six French policemen and a British embassy guy:
- We decided to have a party on the beach real American beach party style etc etc.
So, we sunk a lot of brews and had a nice little fire going. Unfortunately, in our drunk/high state we had built this under some local greenery, the "greenery caught fire.
Panic ensued and in the panic the can of petrol caught fire and... well kind of blew up in the air raining flaming liquid down everywhere.
Sand can burn apparently
Suffice it to say when the police turned up (they wear guns we found out ) saying "ho hee ho hee ho, no passport" doesn’t go down well. So, after 2 weeks in a French slammer we were escorted back on his dad’s boat, I only got around to getting my passport back for the America slackerfest 5 years ago and it was a nightmare of interviews and checking my dumbassery had not re-occurred.
Back then I was not to enter France Ever again I wonder if that still holds now I am 36 and we are in open Europe.