The rest of the boys had gone to Tallin for the week. Or was it Ibiza? Rob had decided instead to get some fresh air and stretch his legs with a yomp or two and some camping. He’d had his fill of stag parties and lads’ tours to Europe’s finest flesh pots. There was only so much lager you could drink, automatic weapons you could fire and scantily clad young girls you could ogle in the pole dancing clubs. To be honest, he always felt a bit ashamed of himself and a little disgusted that he and his mates were the reason why these girls did what they did. Still, he was no saint, and he was not going to start preaching to anyone about anything.
He’d been staying at pubs for the last week. They had all been amazing – roaring fires, good food, singing every now and again and soft beds. He had bee
