Sam Kelly recounts:

Mick and I were in that extreme stage of drunkeness where we had mutually agreed that we were the best buddies the world had ever seen and had agreed to proceed back from the bar we were all in to the hotel on our own –and bugger the rest!! We started off in fine style mostly holding each other up in conventional fashion interspersed with frequent fair imitations of Siamese twins–proceeding steadily with many tangential forays!  All was going well until we came to a point where we had to make a decision on which street was the one which would lead to the hotel–here we had a very strong disagreement on the right choice –like all inebriated disagreements, there was no concedeing on either side –end result was like ” you take the high road and I’ll take the low road and I’ll be at the hotel afore thee”–and so it went, with us shouting to each other to stay in communication  ( a bit like Nelson Eddy and Jeanette Mc Donald ” I’ll be calling you” )–of course the good respectable burghers of Ypres were sensibly in their beds at that late hour and inevitably objected strongly to all the noise –without the shouting we lost contact completely and, with that sense of treachery I had absorbed very quickly from the Strollers,I decided to head ( successfully ) to the hotel — on the inebriated assumption that Mick would make his own way home–as it turned out , this was a flawed assumption and , though I never found out how long it took Mick to find his way home, I thought it more judicious not to ask !!