And so it was, in Terminal 5 at Heathrow Airport, where the Moose CC gathered before heading towards Scandinavian shores in their quest to conquer the cricketing world. The regulars were pleased to see the emergence of top eater, Adam Brawn, for the first time since Amsterdam, such was his shameful performance. Brawn had clearly wintered well with a well-stocked pantry and tried to deflect John Parrott comparisons by shaving his head. We also welcomed newcomer and cricket virgin Gareth Pearce to the squad, fresh from a blossoming career on the catwalk. Meticulously put together itineraries were distributed by MC Harris and once the group had quizzed S Morten as to why his girlfriend was beginning to influence his dress sense so extremely, the troops descended upon their BA chariot to Copenhagen. Team Mascot Drew Howie turned his nose up at the FTs and Economist magazines that were grabbed for the flight and regaled us of a more pertinent mile high novel about a German intercourse addict. 

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The Moose landed and were out of the airport in no time, despite Brawn being accosted by a gappy-toothed Swedish specimen who was hinting at her desire for some bratwurst. The new homeowner joined democratically-elected Head of House Hinchliffe in showing the men to their lair, a glorious townhouse in central Copenhagen on a road called Knabustrargtifjbsfrjehv. No sooner had we dropped our belongings off at the house and let Munro peruse the world of Danish Tinder than we were out the door on our way to fixture no. 1, Svanholm CC - the Danish Champions. A £3.8m clubhouse did not intimidate the Moose and confidence was high as we were sent into the field first in Baltic conditions. Brawn and Kearney started admirably and restricted the openers. What was to unfold was perhaps tour rustiness as Hinchliffe embarrassed himself with the ball and even J Howie struggled to contain their middle order containing Pakistan great Mohammed Yousuf. It was left to the most surprising of heros, J Burnett, to reign in the hosts and he did so at such terrifyingly slow speed. Burnett was more surprised than most himself, finally admitting to being desperately mediocre at everything he does. His inputs and some solid catching from the Moose kept the hosts to 130. Batting proved difficult. To say the least. Munro, despite ordering Svanholm Captain and former England Test Match bowler Amjad Khan (no joke) to give him underarm throw downs on the boundary, rode his luck when he managed to lay a slither of bat on ball. Hinchliffe could barely achieve coming within 6 inches of the goods, not for the first time, as the tall Danish international stormed in on the astroturf strip. Wickets fell regularly with no-one stemming the flow. The Moose were defeated in their first game and drowned their sorrows with some dark Carlsbergs. A journey back into town was followed by another quick turnaround and the lads head for a Calzone at a nearby Italian institution. Spirits were restored at the table as Pearce demanded to see some jugs from the less-then-amused waitress. Lubrication was then partaken at the aptly named Moose Bar, a curious graffitied entity with barred windows. The youngsters moved onwards to find themselves at a multi-storey student haunt, where not even Rudkin could woo the talent on display. The opportunity was also grasped to confront Brawn about the need for him to be subjected to a long and arduous colonic irrigation.

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Morning broke and members were keen to take in some culture. It was decided to seek out the meat-packing district, Kearney displaying sincere discomfort at the fact he had been looking forward to his visit to the fudge-packing equivalent. Brunch was taken and comprehensively seen off before the group put their game faces on for the Glostrup fixture. It was up to skipper Hinchliffe to gee up the men following the previous day’s defeat and he was able to call upon the dream opening partnership of Morten and Rudkin who took to the challenge with aplomb. A positive start was, however, not capitalised upon and a mini collapse resulting from some canny bowling saw the captain see the innings through to 120, ably aided by the running of Chancellor James to the curiously positioned Dwayne Leverock at long on. The break saw the distribution of the finest Danish pastries known to man, packed with cinnamon and moisture to energise the bowlers. Moosey had the pleasure of calling on the services of T Ogden, fresh from the stress of his 11+ exams, to open the bowling and he and Brawn had the oppo on the back foot early on. Kearney and Howie followed suit and pinned them down, but perhaps the turning point was the introduction of Rudkin, whose walk was certainly not up to his puff and Burnett, who seemed to be tired from the Copenhagen marathon he ran 5 years before. Momentum built for Glostrup and their big hitting middle order batsman ensured a finish where many bums were squeaking. A great game finished and the Glostrup team put on a fine spread of BBQ’d meat and salads, up there with the best ever Moose teas - a 9/10. Goodbyes were said and pictures of Rudkin pulling curiously perverted poses were taken and sent to the Metropolitan Police before the group head into town for celebrations, in the much worshipped trendy meat-packing district. Beverages were guzzled in the Warpigs bar, by all means a former abattoir modeled on the dungeon Burnett keeps in his basement. The youth moved next door to Bakken club and within 10 minutes of entry Munro was being violated so rigourously that he only thought it decent for the heinous act to be carried out on the top floor of Moose Towers on Knabustradetsdqrrrjvw instead. Indeed, so violent was the occurrence that the room was littered with evidence of a struggle. 

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It was remarkable to witness Munro emerge and lead his side for the last tour game, but the adrenaline he had expended hours earlier meant he was unable to rouse the men in a game where motivation and general body heat was lacking. Not even the disclosure from the Moose Executive that the Chancellor had been set upon by a lady of the night only hours earlier could inspire - special mention to the final karate chop that saw her off. The opposition applied positive attitude to their batting and racked up a strong score around the 200 mark. No bowling particularly stood out and the wind was even stiff enough to muffle the puff of Rudkin on the deep square leg boundary, where he surely belongs. A lunch of chicken tikka pizza was taken with a delightful spicy sauce to lift the Moosey heads and they were able to shelter from the wind. The batting was of equal inadequacy against disciplined bowling and it was not long before Moosey were skittled. The group gathered their thoughts en route back to Moose Towers and took some time either to recuperate or take in some more of the city. All freshened up, the squad head to Nyhavn for pre-dinner litres and the ritual haggling with souvenir vendors. A fantastic final meal was had as the restaurant’s top floor was commandeered. Suitably lubed, the troops made for central Copenhagen for one last hurrah and did not disappoint, Kearney in particular giving a masterclass in how to pick up the pieces no matter what shape or size. 

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A fantastic 4 days drew to a close with a jaded trip to the airport. Fun was poked at the Chancellor as he took his eye off his hand luggage momentarily only for a sick member of the public to slip in a bottle of fluid and his momento from last tour, a large dark-coloured fake phallus. The women operating the X-Ray machine at security were clearly very aroused. 

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Huge Moosey thanks to Rupert Harris for organising a Tour that ran like clockwork and which will live long in the memory. 

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