This was the title of another of my larger-than-life stories from the old pub newsletter concerning two of the regulars. Richard owned a local cycle business and Phil worked for him. They both attended a big Cycle Show in Cologne for an entire weekend and, in a frank interview later, Richard told me that, as far as he could tell, there had not been as much damage inflicted on the city since about 1944.

The lack of food provided by their accommodation necessitated frequent visits to a nearby hostelry; this was nothing much more than a convivial local pub in a working-class district and on the first night Phil was soon integrating enthusiastically into German society by engaging the clientele in friendly competition. As the evening wore on, the local artisans were warming to Phil in a big way. They also had difficulty remaining upright. During the course of this revelry, Phil encountered two Bulgarian businessmen who were in town for the same show. This proved commercially fortuitous and a meeting was arranged. Several steins later, however, they joined the rest of the customers under the table and forgot to attend the meeting. That took care of Friday – and about half the native population.

Richard recalled that a particular sight for sore eyes was Phil, arm in arm with several inebriated gentlemen, joining in a mass sing-song. This was no mean feat as Phil neither spoke German nor knew any of the songs but, with true British never-say-die doggedness, he accompanied his new companions by simply singing a variety of English words at random – nobody seemed to notice or care. That took care of Saturday – and the other half of the population. The German Grand Prix happened to be taking place the same weekend and on the following night Phil took on the might of the Cologne Ferrari Supporters Club; that took care of Sunday.

To cap an action-packed weekend, someone at the airport wrongly checked in Richard’s suitcase as Phil’s and Phil was promptly taken into custody by two armed policemen because they thought Richard’s nebulizer was a bomb. Phil told me later (well, this was the gist of it): “I never provoke an antagonistic confrontation with a representative of a law enforcement agency or anyone else who is pointing a gun at me!”

Guess what he actually said.