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no one said it would be easy

along the way, so we greeted each day with a smile on our faces. Mo was now back in residence and I can still taste the spaghetti bolognaise she introduced us to. I’d first tasted pizza at age 22 and now at 27 was a spag-bol fan. It could be said that sophistication came to me slowly.

A cabal of the rugby club stalwarts was summonsed to a farewell party at the Firsts' captain's house on the night before departure. This seemed a great idea … nothing could go wrong this time! Roy and Barbara were a smidgeon older than us and had a lovely place ideally suited for the occasion. This was not to be a raucous knees-up, rather a recognition that I had been part of the club for five years and now I was leaving. A couple of years earlier the club had hosted a team from Yugoslavia and the well-heeled like Roy and Barbara had taken them in as billets. The visit was memorable for the physical hardness of their players and their ability to drink copious amounts of slivovitz which they had brought with them in seemingly vast quantities. Apparently, it is a type of plum brandy but I would describe it as a beverage with the oiliness of kerosene and the pungent metallic tang of aftershave … in other words hideous. It is possible that it is just a kero-shave … no distilling needed, just a 50:50 blend. Those who had taken in billets, had each been bestowed with a bottle of this rocket-fuel. Roy and Barbara had been generous hosts and taken in two players so had been gifted two bottles of Yugoslavia’s finest, which is a bit like being punished for coming first.

After two years of foisting the slivovitz on every new guest that visited, Roy and Barbara still had one and three-quarter bottles of the dreaded stuff. Being a newbie, Roly was the obvious next victim. It would never be said that Roly is a big drinker, but this was a big occasion and maybe it was with a bit of false bravado that he made the ominous uttering “This isn’t too bad!”

Roly is not a naturally gregarious person and here he was in a social situation where he only knew a few of the attendees … so it would be expected that his shyness would prevail. To the contrary, fuelled by slivovitz he became more outgoing and relaxed. The three-quarter bottle was soon finished and the unopened one broached. This was an unbelievable performance. There was very little assistance from any of the rugby club. We all knew what it tasted like and suspected it led on to worse things. I think Roly achieved semi-legend status that night, being as he appeared to be able to tame that awful Slavic liquor whilst still being seemingly lucid and half-pie charming.