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I awoke on Sunday to the smell of sausages, Scotty doing what he does best (after drumming and driving), and decided to go for a walk in the fresh air. Squirrels ran amongst the falling leaves as I discovered all the great features of our holiday park (swimming pool, sports courts, crazy golf) which we wouldn’t have chance to utilize. We set off for Omman at around 1pm, this time only a forty-five minute drive and in daylight too, the weather was finally letting up.
We arrived at a cool biker bar in the middle of a forest, the venue known as Café Calluna. Whereas ‘Café’ in English usually refers to a small restaurant, Jordy informed me in Dutch it means bar or club – just in case you’ve been picturing us playing tiny eateries across the orange country. At Calluna there was a farm and all kinds of interesting structures, like giant motorcycles made of wood and makeshift stages. Inside we greeted the locals and set-up on a nice stage at the end of a cosy bar. It turns out we were crashing a jam session, which they wanted us to open before locals took turns in playing woeful renditions of classic songs.
Feyenoord versus Ajax was on the big flat screen which I enjoyed by an open fire. At full–time we took to the stage a blasted out a five/six
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We packed up and headed back to our house in the evening. I got the knock-back at the swimming pool so settled for the couch as Scotty grilled more burgers and we chuckled at more Family Guy then brokered some interesting conversation over a 'Discovery' show about Red Dwarf planets.
Up at 5am we had the house tidied, our gear packed and hit the road bang on time. Jordy was impressed and remarked that this was a
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Eventually arriving at Schiphol we hit the Easy Jet desk and quickly re-booked. Missing our 10am flight meant either a 1.15pm to Liverpool at the cost of 1000 Euros or another Manchester flight at 5:15pm for half the price. All our merch money subsidised the cost as we began the task of killing seven airport hours. We were briefly re-united with Sit Kitty Sit who were flying out to Gatwick to continue their tour in the UK, it seemed almost an age since we’d hammered the Reeperbahn with them and drunk until dawn on that first night in Germany.
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