Drunken duck

After getting to the hotel, I met Chris Dowling and Roy Brindley to go get something to eat. We were joined by Mick Frisby and after a great Thai (I ordered the rather intriguingly titled drunken duck) that met with the Roy the Boy seal of approval, we meandered through a night that included an initially deserted bar where the main mystery was as to whether the barmaids were lesbians, a rather frightful looking Irish pub that we bailed on after one look, and the casino which has a very Vegas feel to it. Roy described it in advance as an air hangar filled with slots and that summed it up. The poker and gaming room were well hidden away and guarded by a barrier that required 6 euros to penetrate. Rather neat trick that, getting people to pay cover charge for the privilege of losing their money.

By now the beers had turned into Bushmills so my memory of the rest of the night is a little hazy. But it definitely included Gary Clarke (who had joined us at some point after busting the tournament) spinning up at Punto Banco despite none of us having much of a notion about the game, and everyone chipping in to send Chris off to jump into a 5/10 game. I went over periodically to watch Chris putting on a master display of folding when behind, and betting and hero calling when ahead. In about an hour he'd spun the buyin up to 2.5, which basically meant that at the end of a night that included a great meal, great company, much drink and no work, I somehow had more money in my wallet than at the start. You can't really do better than that.

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