A Hundred Laps on La Rose.
By Andy Harris

After eight fuelled days of coffee, porn, pizza, fat burners, celluloid and bouldering it’s bye bye Switzerland, hello UK. This is what it was all about.

The week before

The holiday plan is to meet up with a couple of ageing rockstars, the Dunbar pinch monster, some young American hotshots and hold our own whilst the camera’s rolling. Can the talent behind Hard Grit and Yosemite capture the magic and more importantly make me and Ritchie Patterson look better than Moffat, Moon and Smith? Let’s just say it’s not looking likely.

Monday 5^th March

We’ve finally scored a doss in London so it’ll be a 5am start as opposed to a dreaded 2am drive from Sheffield. We arrive at maison Busby where the floor has kindly been donated courtesy of Stanley and Marge. After a couple of pints at the local there’s still no sign of the camera man. Maybe he decided to meet us at the airport. A knock on the window at 12pm reveals a beaming Rich Heap who just "had to go to the cinema". Maybe he was after some inspiration. So what did he go and see? "What women want".

Tuesday

Four simultaneous alarms, a couple of croissants and a mug of tea, see us on our way. Rich reckons there’ll be plenty of time so we park his car locally to save on parking. Arrive at departures with a minute to spare. Will we ever learn?

It’s only an hour to Milan and the view of the Alps is worth the price of the flight alone. Our 7 foot aluminium camera pole and numerous toothbrushes on sticks causes odd looks and one of the airhostess’s remarks "I don’t want to know." We’re greeted by dozens of Italian babes, most braless. Unfortunately it’s Milan fashion week and they’re being projected onto a 6 foot high screen. It’s a 3 hour wait till Malcom arrives so we set up camp and start on the Italian ice cream. Our budding Steven Spielberg suddenly remembers the 9 camcorder batteries he left in a bag in his car in England. Arse!

The airport is pretty boring so Ritchie investigates the local Italian porn whilst he’s secretly filmed. We all indulge in some of the finest local ice cream I’ve ever tasted. Rich cavorts round the airport with camera on the end of the 7 foot pole getting more attention than the Italian babes.

Scotland’s strongest export finally arrives and it’s time to cram the contents of a small hose into the boot of a 2 door Fiat. An hour and a half later and were in Bellinzona tourist office trying to find a house for 7 but end up with 1 night in a dodgy Swiss B&B (minus the breakfast) with mirrored bedrooms straight out of Deep Throat.