One particular night rings a bell and if you were there I'm sure you'll have memories as fond as I. 'Twas in Adelaide in the winter of '03. Downtown, in kilts, swapping upper garments with ladies of various sizes and shapes. Pretty brave when you consider most of them come from the finest criminal stock the UK had to offer. The following night, crewmate caught licking Hyd fluid and spilled lager off the hangar floor brings entirely different memories flooding back . . .