Saturday, Sunday and Monday

Afraid this is all a bit of a blur as I’m finishing writing this article 2 months after I started it. Sorry Rob. But someone will be round in 30 mins to pick it up and I’ve got to pick up my washing.

3 days of great weather, I drink lots of beer whilst the others watch the footie. Malc keeps on ticking, 8b, 8a+ ……. Another 8a and an 8b+ in the space of two days leaving the rest of us to Basque in his glory. The boys only had one day off so far! Sorry about the number orientation of this bit but it really was quite impressive. Although not as good as doing all the 8b’s at The School with his weight belt on. Jerry finally gets his arse in gear ticking La Boule and some other desparates. Must have been that double dose of fat burners. The 2 budding Spielbergs slap their way up a couple of classic’s a piece, and the might of Ritchie Pattersons halls his mighty fine love handles along an 8a roof traverse for a dusk time ascent. Poor oldBen can’t do anything, and to make things worse his shoulder looks like something out of the Elephant man. Well maybe that’s a slight exaggeration.

Tuesday

My fingers start pulsing fromthe word go.The two large holes in my left hand feel like the Grand Canyon and mid-Atlantic trench which I opt to fill with superglue and cover in plenty of tape. The pain is too much and the Ibuprofen has no effect. I decide to take some photos instead.

The weather takes a turn for the worse, so three hours later we’re waiting for our plane having been dropped at the wrong terminal, spent our remaining lira on a McDonalds and just got to departures in time.

"Hey Ritchie, can you remember which of the 20 massive car parks we left the car in?" "Was it 5a? - Shit!"

That’s all folks.