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Going Dutch
4.12.05 by Mike Bessenger

As told to Mike Bessenger by Vincent Velocity

Queensday in jolly old London,

An alleycat in which free tickets could be won was something the dutchies couldn’t resist. On thursday evening 22:00pm local time, our volkswagen polocaust was packed-up with 4 frames, 8 wheels, a couple of bags and four of the freshest, illest, dopest and semi-old-skool messengers of what was about to become one of the biggest prize-winning races ever to be in the history of Velocity fietskoeriers. Seeing the fact, we had already won a lot of cups & shields in the past, everybody was excited and full of confidence.

We drove the car away from home base and a long journey had begun.

Vincent Velocity, pic: Amy Bolger

Unfortunately the distance to Calais was almost 2 hours further than we expected. It was dark as hell and the language these people spoke was strange, their accent sounded almost french. Hurrah, we had reached the sea and it was only 04:00am. We drove the car on the train, got out and started partying till the stewards begged us to please get back in our vehicle again. It only took 45 minutes to get to Great Brittain and at 05:17am, the only thing we wanted was a place to sleep. A very short drive took us to your countryside where beauty and admiration made us all sleep within a sec.

After a 3 hours sleep we continued our trip to victory. The freshness had faded a little bit but hey, I personally had been to London before and Silly Tjeerd knew where to point out London on the map (we didn’t tell it was Blackpool). Lucky for us we had Neels on our team, the extreme outdoor experience specialist. And if odds weren’t already on our side, Dirk Diggler, the globetrotter, the winner, the alleycat, the man was the driver of this car in which we all felt like pickles in sour. Yes sir, This team had to win at least something, right? The rest of our trip was too short, we reached the Capital in less than 2 hours and now the party could really blast off.

La voiture was parked near Metro and we threw a few coins in the apparatus.

A dutchie has to be keen on the money, remember. Old friens were meet and everybody was surprised to see us still alive and kickin. Me and the guys showed some locals how the job should really be done and after a while business went better than ever before. No thanx. Velocity fietskoeriers took the rest of the day off to do some site-seein and bikeshoppin. When we came back to the car and the “winning” ticket was ours. Now we could let the car be parked without getting a fine, we thought.

Finally, at the end of the day, we couldn’t help getting tired and after a couple of free beers, the race started just behind the Duke of York. Thanks to Mr Changs english accent nobody of us knew where to find our 1st checkpoint but I had my small A-Z on me and so we managed to get there anyways. The lord knows we tried to race and if odds hadn’t turned against us we would have found the 2nd checkpoint even faster. When we came to checkpoint 3, the guy was allready getting undressed to go to bed. I thought we were dreaming. No glory, no prizes, no tickets, no fun and getting lost? Velocity fietskoeriers put up their orange socks, let the ladies go first and came in as a team. Last place though.

This was one of our best fun alleycats, teamspirit, male bonding, dutch, english, bikes, babes, fun, good winners, and warm beer. Thanx for guiding us through London, Anita and Megan. Thanx for friendship and beeing messengers. Next day our car was towed, to a spot 60 yards from where we parked, ticket still on the front window. Thanx to the London police.

As told to Mike Bessenger by Vincent Velocity

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