THE CITY OF GLASGOW

Just a couple of sentences about my favourite city.
Anyone have heard about Put Buckfast Into Plastic Bottles Campaign?
Well,if they will manage to convince bucki monks to do that,it isn't all lost just yet.
Every single Glaswegian tells me that IrnBru tastes much better from a glass bottle than from a can or plastic.No need then to spend a wee fortune on a bottle of FuckedFast just because you feel like slashing someones face.
Ladies and Gentlemen!First ever lethal weapon which in case you don't feel like breaking someones face could be exchanged for a 20 pence coin at any shop.
Ladies and Gentlemen! A bottle of Ginger.


Sheer shock after Dublin prices.55 pence a can of lager at G.G.'s offy!!! Sure its not 555 pence?



Tough weather conditions mean that your bike needs that tender attention.On display is a wide array of tools used by scottish mechanics.



Glasgow messenger's tools of trade.



Mac Tse-Tung?Nope,Wee Red Book is about football.



And massive THANK YOU to everyone in The City Of Glasgow who made every of me visits there so memorable.
Everyone:messengers,messengers' friends,messengers' parents etc etc.You guys rock!So does your city!
And here are pictures of Glasgow i took while knocking out those few wee jobs(thanx again Brian) i managed to knock out.

MILLPOCALYPSE NOW

Funnily enough it was warm and sunny when we were leaving Dublin.Perhaps that sun was the reason why our assorted motley crue of Londoners,Glaswegians and Montrealians almost missed the train to Belfast..
When we did mention that to a friendly fella in the guards carriage where we stashed our bikes we have been told:don't worry,this is Irish Rail-its like Jamaica.
The only event on the train worth mentioning is James Tait showing off missing chunks of flesh on his leg.Yum.


Couple of hours to explore lovely Belfast city or rather to explore the way from the train station to the ferry terminal.
Some interesting views.


And northern irish CCTV cameras must be made of gold...


Millportpoloco(or rather Millpocalypse as it will be called since this year) as usually was fantastic fun.
Friday nite street keirin ended up with a traditional crash(not me this time) as well as a visit from local authorities.
Coppers were so nice that they not only let us finish the race(going wrong way on the Park Circus and its friday nite-drunken pedestrians,occasional car or two,pretty dark etc) but also stayed to watch the final 4 laps and the crash
The island of Great Cumbrae is where the actual Millpocalypse was held.Green and rainy/sunny as usually.And sooo drunken.
So what have changed then sice last year?
Millport constabulary discovered us.We were visited several times-nudity and drinking in public.No arrests.
Whiskeys at THE TAVERN went up to £1.30.
No pirate alleycat this year,pier jump and skid skittles instead.
After hours of rain the camp site turned into proper swamp-i was the only loser (or maybe winner) who paid for dry and warm bed&(missed)breakfast
Those photos should give you a hint of the atmosphere on that weekend.


Paul is performing his naked pier jump.



Strathclyde Constabulary watching street keirin,Park Circus Velodrome.



On the way back towards the ferry landing brief stop over to perform some acrobatics and to have police called on us for the last time...




...and to watch beautiful views from the beach.




Makka playing trackstanding darts at Johnny Foxe's pub in West Kilbride.


If you want to read the results and see more photos of madness,drunken messengers,bicycles etc GO HERE.
If you want to see what the island of great cumbrae actually looks like,have a look at those shots.
ENJOY.

Cycle Messengers World Championships in Dublin

So those brave london couriers who felt that Londons Calling wasn't quite enough arrived in Dublin to show the world HOW WE DO IT LONDON STYLE.
I counted 35 londoners and Im sure i must have ommited someone.Anyway,that is remarkable attendance considering how apathetic we really are and how few of us actually leave the Cockney Land to go to any messenger event that is any farther than Benthall Green.
Some people drove,some rode(im being told that from over 40 people who embarked from london fields only 19 made it riding their bikes all the way to dublin-respect to all who finished the ride!!!),some flew,but most of us choose the easy way-train/ferry.
The messenger stream trickled slowly from Euston to Holyhead and then Dublin over 4 days.The highlists of those trips are definitely one london mess who left his passport at home, another one who decided to get plastered on the ferry and left his fellow travellers with no choice than carry him from the ferry port to the town with frequent vomit stops.Oh,and one more who was convinced that London isnt big enough to have more than one airport.Well done lads!!!
Now the racing.As usually we stuck to the traditional London way of doing those things-2 out of nearly 40 londoners qualified to the finals.Not too bad.
Those two were:

THERESE who was third female overall


and JOS.



The rest of us happily sat around looking at the blue sky...



...or chatting about dockets,crap controllers and road works in West End...



...or dancing(or attempting to)...



...or doing that essential shopping...



...or smiling...



...or trying to decide whether to ride or not to ride...



...or emptying paints...



...or just being in general one-hundred-percent-two-fingers-in-the-air mood...



...or helping Glasgow messengers with their dental problems.



All happy,blissfull and euphoric bunch.Untill three things appeared.


The first thing was rain.



The second thing was ...more rain.



The third thing to appear was the Old Bill.


Who told everyone to fuck off.So we all did.Some of us back to London.And some to Glasgow City.Via Belfast.