It’s good to be able to write this blog; it means that I am not dead. If you read my previous entry, you’ll know that I was nervous about my trip to Latvia. Have a recap: http://mark-jackman.com/blog/2009/04/22/riga-latvia-please-dont-kill-me/
There were twenty-four guys on the do, and it was a helluva a weekend. Remember, “What goes on tour, stays on tour,” so no details will be shared. But what about Riga? Was it as bad as the stories?
Yes and no.
There are a lot of no-go areas in the city. In fact, the first pub that we went to carried a warning from the US embassy, but most of the dangers are to your wallet, rather than your kneecaps. Saying that, if you are in a situation where your wallet is in danger and you don’t pay up, then the danger moves back to your knees. The biggest scam involves “ladies of negotiable affection,” (Terry Pratchett, nod – for the term, not the scam). The ladies get the drunken punter to buy them a drink, and then the barman charges stupid money for it. Not paying results in a visit from big Russian Mafia heavies. Some lads we spoke to got stung for £150 each.
As for the city, The Old Town was beautiful. There is a lot of effort put into keeping the town clean, and there was no litter in sight. That’s the reason that littering in Latvia can result in some hefty fines, or even a night in the cells. Drunken pisses in the streets or throwing up result in a night in the slammer, and why not?
Writing this, I realise that I didn’t see any of Riga. I was drunk. We walked from pub to pub, in a drunken stupor. I was drunk when we landed and hungover when we left. I didn’t try any Latvian food. We ate breakfast at the hotel, and a McDonalds at night… twice. Technically, I have visited Riga, but I haven’t really seen it.
In terms of a stag do location, Riga was spot on, but it isn’t a place to go for a cheap time. It was no cheaper than London. We ended up in Club Essential, which was pure 80s Euro action, where I enjoyed paying £7 per bottle of shit Heineken. The people in Riga were beautiful. People take care of themselves over there. It was not like a Saturday night out in Yarmouth.
As long as you don’t go to to the dodgy bits, stay in a decent sized-group, don’t buy the lasses drinks without knowing the price up-front and don’t piss in the streets, then you’ll be fine. I’ve always said that it doesn’t matter where you are, it is who you are with, and I was lucky enough to be out with a great bunch of lads, who were all up for a laugh.
ood weekend, but feel like crap, now. I have a few days to recover before the next one in Birmingham, on Friday. My poor liver.
All in all, a cracking send off for Leachy.
LMAO! Glad you had fun! I wonder how many pictures were taken? Now that I would pay to see. The people on the bench made me laugh. I don’t know how many times hubby used to end up like that!
There were loads of hilarious pics, but what goes on tour stays on tour, Val. Sorry
The guy on the left is the good Stag. The lady on the right was a drunk who had passed out. It was only midday! Saying that, we were pretty well oiled. The coppers were going round picking up local drunks and dumping them in the van.