In the interest of not breaking from centuries old tour tradition, tarnishing upstanding clubmen’s reputations, or giving Vision cause to write another damning article of club antics, I am afraid this report cannot give away too many secrets.

As a quick note, there was an immediate injury before tour began, with the loss of “Know your Role”, who was un-able to attend his 30th rugby tour due to an unfortunate accident requiring ‘key-hole in the door’ surgery. However, we have heard that the operation was successful and the touring party were able to find a somewhat rather novice tourist to fulfill his role.

So let us continue… outlined here are a few memories from our time spent on tour this year:

Needless to say UYRUFC’s touring party arrived at their destination midday on Sunday 28^th March…they arrived, they indulged, they conquered…

As in any conflict there were casualties along the way…

Tour began with an eminent start in the Airport… the old guard made a fashionably late entrance allowing for the commencement of fresher fitness, with the “PT Instructor”, at 5:30am on the Sunday morning, entertaining the zombie-like crowd of the airport with some beastings til check-in.

The UYRUFCans carried on their way, passing all security procedures with their infamous funnel mounted on the shoulders of “It’s Dead”, and tour freshman running through the airport, having not been allowed to use the escalators by the decree of ‘OG’. “Tour Jester” was already filling his role sublimly, being his usual entertaining self, and the “Sacrificial Lamb” had arrived looking smart as ever, dressed in his traditional pin-striped suit trousers and sporting an already busted lip from the previous evenings revelry.

On arrival to our destination and after a quick bout of Fresher fitness (with the first injury of tour that “left” Dexter unable to participate in any more sports for the remainder of the trip), the UYRUFCans embarked on the hour and a half journey to the holy land.

As is customary in all good epics, the luck of the Gods was on their side, with a singular Portsmouth Netballer finding herself on the same coach as the tourists. In true UYRUFC style a fun bus was instigated; highlighted with an excellent sexinory from tour narrator “Dare Monkey Junior”, and several renditions of the UYRUFC Tour Hymn Book (available at any good book store) led by the “Choirmaster”.

On arrival to the Hotel there were already several casualties of the journey so far and “Old Guard” had to put those to bed. There was a winner on the fun bus however, and that came in the unlikely form of a shady plank of wood otherwise known as ‘The Hut’ – “Sacrificial Lamb”. Our unfortunate Portsmouth netballer found herself the judge of a tour-fresher blind date competition; although woed by “Know your Role”, “Fag1″ and “Robot Fag”, ‘The Hut” came out as the unexpected, yet unanimous winner!

With half the club in bed recovering from battle, it did not take long for the acute nose of “Dexter” to lead those able to a local watering hole. A quick recovery and soon fun was being had by all. By the evening the club had finished with the tradition of Kangaroo Court, where the tour snitch had wreaked havoc, with all the lads in full swing. Headed into town UYRUFC continued to ignore all females and focus on the much more important tasks of fun and lash.

By the first evening many of UYRUFC looked as though they were to be defeated, but with iron will and determination the rugby club prevailed. The real casualty of this evening came later this night, as one clubmen was making passionate music with his banjo of love in our very smart 3* hotel…. for the more squeamish amongst you skip to the next paragraph…. the poor chap had the misfortune of snapping his banjo string! Rest assured, he had the sense of mind to blame the maid and throw her out of the room before showing any signs of weakness!

The sun rose early, banishing the haze of the previous night’s battle, and day two commenced. Friday was a rugby day. Carrying a few injuries from both the 1^st and 2^nd XV, who won their respective leagues, not all 24 members of the touring group were fit to play. Nevertheless, the lads put in a sterling effort and after not losing a game in the group stages found their way into the quarter finals! Here things started to get a little bit more serious and certain players such as “Peeping Tom”, “Grand Lancenist”, “Next Question?” (who shouldn’t have been playing) and even “Know Your Role” amongst others stepped up & really showed their class. UYRUFC ended the day as runners up, delivering “Old Guard” the silverwear he had demanded at the start of the day.

Unfortunately UYRUFC’s total domination of rugby came at a price, in the form of a relatively expendable “Robot Fag”! In all honesty this incident did slightly tarnish the day as he was concussed in a totally unnecessary and very late tackle from a Nottingham Trent 1^st XV flanker. However, the fag in question recovered admirably and continued his tour role with due haste.

It was also on the second day that UYRUFC became fully aware that “Beatbox” could not in fact sing, affirming his place in history as one of the worst human beat-boxes ever! The post match report was conducted in the club’s favourite establishment in this quaint town; the fishbowl.

Another successful court was run by “King of Tour”, “Lord of the Fag’s”, and “Senior Dare Monkey”, and the club again stood out as they left the hotel with all tour fresher’s dressed as babies and all senior tourists as their mothers.

The third day again saw the club return to their favourite watering hole outside of York and once sufficiently topped up they headed to a very convenient Uncle Sam’s diner. Much frivolity was had upon the beach as the boys tanned up, jocked around and watched “Robot Fag” & ”A.McQueen” entertain the gang with a spectacle of successive back flips. It was then business as usual as the bronzed UYRUFCans returned to find their wiser colleagues such as “Dexter” & “Choirmaster” making full use of the hotel facilities. Once “PT Instructor” deemed enough had been had by all, he announced the commencement of Fresher Olympics.

Fresher Olympic Results:

Long Jump: 1st “A.McQu3en”, 2nd “Tour Mascot”, 3rd “Masterchef”

Triathlon: 1st “Robot Fag”, 2nd ”A.McQu3en”, 3rd “Masterchef”

Belly Flops: 1st “Bomb Disposal”, 2nd “Dare Monkey Junior”, 3rd “Know Your Role”

Relay: 1st “A.McQu3en” & “Tour Mascot”, 2nd “Masterchef” & “Fag1″ , 3rd “Dare Monkey Junior” & “PT Instructor”, 4th “Robot Fag” & “Know Your Role”

DNF “Tour Jester” & “Sacrificial Lamb”, “Bomb Disposal” & “Beatbox”  -  ”Choirmaster” can explain the reasonings behind why these teams were unable to finish the last leg…

The club were also never short of a pectoral workout with “Grand Larcenist” snooping around enquiring whose pot of tea it was in front of him and then when hearing the required answer m-i-n-e, demanding his ten press-ups.

This afternoon also saw three Freshers have their hair bleached and another Fresher duck-taped to a chair and temporarily abandoned inside the bar while the rest of the club enjoyed the poolside sun. Others, such as “Rapier”, instead chose to bench-press every person in sight for the entire duration. Another fine supper was provided by the hotel staff and “It’s Dead!” showed his appreciation by imprinting his face into a large heart shaped pudding. Unfortunately the staff failed to acknowledge this ‘high-brow’ banter and kindly requested our leave.

Court was fun once again, with “Tour Jester” letting rip; one 3^rd year tourist being smeared in chocolate spread, all Tour Frehsers being egged by all non-Freshers who were provided with half-a dozen eggs each,  ”Bomb Disposal” having to cover himself head to toe in sausage paste, and “Beatbox” understanding that he may be sour but he damn well knows how to finish a lemon.

Returning again to the Fishbowl we found a group of Cardiff lads being heckled from afar, and recognising one of their songs, ‘Father Abraham’, we assisted them in song and soon had the entire bar at our disposal. Indeed when we realised they also knew ‘Chicago’, we entered into a forty minute chant in unison. Having also discovered “Masterchef’s” bizarre love of potassium and ability to eat a banana in sub-two seconds, it was on this night that he fully cemented his position, in the wake of Gorilla’s departure last year, as the new leader of the ‘Banana’ song.

It was then onto the biggest institue of the week, starting off with thirty minute bus journey. As one bus of partygoers soon realised, you antagonise UYRUFCans at your own folly, and it was not long before 12 clubmen had an entire bus looking at them in awe as they sang and danced to the tunes of ‘Hi, my name is Jim’, and ‘there are four on the back seat of the bus’….. The Institue in question consisted of an enormous series of bistros, surrounding a huge warehouse with a 5,000 capacity. A few clubmen didn’t make it to the aforementioned paradise, but I am reliably informed they did the club proud and made full use of the fact that Burger King in Spain serves all the correct beverages!

Tour was by now taking its toll and most clubmen didn’t emerge from their rooms until after midday. An epic game of corridor cricket soon commenced and a few less sporting clubmen headed over to the fishbowl ! The club soon regrouped and congregated back at the hotel facility. “Dancemaster” found three women to judge a game of man-oh-man in which he set forth the rules and the female panel decided who was least worthy each time by pushing their least favourite fresher into the pool. Combining whit, intellect and charm, a number of the freshmen fell short. However, one Fresher was unbelievably “excited” and seemed totally incapable of staying clothed at all, and when asked, like the rest of the club to show six different poses, he got rapturous applause from his fellow clubmen as he demonstrated six different calf positions. It was on this occasion that sed clubmen did indeed show us ‘everything!’

Man-oh-Man Events:

Participants: “Know Your Role”, “Beatbox”, “Dare Monkey Junior”, “Fag1″, “RoboFag”, “Masterchef”, “Sacrificial”, “A.McQu3en”, “Tour Mascot”, “Tour Jester”

Party Trick:

Losers:”RoboFag” (retired), “Dare Monkey Junior”, “Tour Mascot”

5 Poses:

Losers: “Sacrificial Lamb”, “Fag1″ (although Fag 1 was a consistant contestant throughout)

Sing Us a Song:

Losers: “A McQu3en”, “Beatbox”, “Tour Jester”

Winners:

“Know Your Role”, “Masterchef”

Loser:

Portsmouth Netball – thrown in Pool.

“Dare Monkey Senior” provided the club with clothes for the forth and final night, consisting of sheets of different coloured cloth signifying four different tribes. Every group had to come up with a song, a story of their background and a special talent. The ‘mauchivit’ warriors proved the most worthy and the final court topped all previous courts. The “The Hoff” was forced to skip revealing more than a little flesh to the delight of all those watching, “Masterchef” sampled dog food, fresher’s had a 3-foot salami fight, and pickled eggs were greedily gobbled up.

The final night didn’t let the tourists down in expectation in the slightiest. Peeping Tom in his usual fashion made a nuisance of himself snooping around the club and managed to conjure up some bizarre camera angles, (his biggest contribution towards Tour however most certainly came in his passionate love of fun). The great events that night were things such The “Shopping Trolley” a club favourite, “The Shark” not so much a dance favourite, a clubmen eating a bank card, and almost all clubmen eating some denomination of what was assumed fake money from the Monopoly game we had played earlier that day.

The record should also acknowledge that “Sacrificial Lamb”, having burst his lip the day before tour, had to consume absolutely everything through a straw (through choice not tour role), “A.McQu3en” spent the entire tour in a three piece suit and “It’s Dead” (in his tour role) had to consume absolutely EVERY beverage in one.

On a final note of tour, without hearing of any 3^rd year tourists doing a masters or the Oldest of the Old staying on for a fifth year, Tour 2011 shall include a hunt for the next years wisest man of Tour. Two serious contenders emerged: “Dare monkey Senior” who was at all times wise and led a brilliant tour, & “Man Summers” who proved to quickly work out all the logistics of the town and was able to lead bands of totally confused clubmen to their required locations. “Man Summers” having brought along a useful array of non-rugby sporting equipment and was also heard to be dispensing immensely wise words of wisdom – at time people wondered whether it was the Oldest of the Old talking himself.

In the coming months, as both these gentlemen mature into 3^rd year clubmen the real test will be to see who spends the most time with the Oldest of Guard’s and so learns that your ‘calves ache due to flip-flop wearing’ or that in answer to “why does your clock read two hours ahead of his this-one” – ‘because where we are going, they are an hour ahead, as for the other hour; you still have not updated your watch to daylight savings time’. Spend enough time with him and they may even learn to recount some of his tales dating back as far as the 1920’s when he was working on a farm in Australia. A gripping contest, but only time will bear fruit to the wiser!

Finally a word of thanks to “Dare Monkey Senior” who ensured that the entire operation ticked along smoothly, he was a calming influence at times, ensuring we were not ejected from the hotel, and at other times let out the inner animal within. On behalf of all of the clubmen who went along ‘Congratulations Tour Sec’!

Tour Fresher 2010: (To be announced at tour re-enactment social, ballot was decided on the plane but rapturous applause decided to be delivered at 1331).

Tour icon 2010: “Choirmaster” – he loved every moment of Tour & received punishments with as much glee as he handed them out!

Best kept Tour Role: “It’s Dead” didn’t break from his tour role across the four day period & ensured everything was seen off in one.

Worst Kept Tour Role: “Bomb Disposal Unit” – other clubmen had to, at times, intervene to remove unwanted onlookers, as the chosen bomb disposal unit was either not around or too nice.

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