I'm back after my 24 hours in Cork clebrating my best mate's birthday , and if you're expecting me to tell you how wonderful the city is, I can't. Mostly because I was blind drunk for the best part of it.

Got Birmingham to have breakfast, but had to wait for the bar to open first. A decent ale soon washed breakfast down in style.

The flight out was fantastic - we flew over my house, for starters, and then followed the same route to Pembrokeshire that we travel along every year, so I knew all the stops. Then flew over my favourite beach, and over the Irish Sea.

We then got to Cork and decided to hunt for somewhere to stay. Obviously the best people to ask would be local, but how to tell who's local? We hit on the obvious solution, and found a friendly barman. Refreshed after the flight, we grabbed a B&B at a reasonable price, and decided to celebrate our good fortune. In another bar, obviously. THis was rapidly becoming a habit.

This habit was almost broken in the next bar, which turned out to be dire. However we were back on form after that, when we found another bar to console us. Beyond that it all gets a bit blurred.

The best part of this is that my best friend had his digital camera with him, and so we took a photo of every pint. From this evidence, we have deduced that the absolute minimum intake of alcohol was 15 pints. Each. The maximum was over twenty, although a few look like duplicates. Believe me, the effects show in the last photo: me slumping into sleep with a pint still in my hand.


Some of the places we went were surprisingly nextian. I can now say I've had a drink in the Raven, and also eaten at Kafka's. Not to mention travelling by Skyrail at Birmingham International...

Definitely worth repeating. Although maybe without quite so many photos...



Post Edited (04-09-03 22:09)

PSD

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This is the work of an Italian narco-anarchic collective. Don't bother insulting them, they can't read English anyway.

I want to see photos. Perhaps you could do a moving gif of one photo to the next showing you declining towards your inebriated slumber ?

And respect. My days of being able to drink that much are long gone. If indeed they ever existed (which I very much doubt).

I refused to believe I could drink that much, until presented with the evidence. I'm not sure how I could drink that much and keep moving, but apparently I did.

I woke up this morning drenched in sweat, and soon discovered why. My liver is still heroically churning through my bloodstream and making a LOT of heat. At a rate of one unit per hour, I might be fit to drive by this evening.

Ouch.

Will bung the photos up at some stage.



PSD

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This is the work of an Italian narco-anarchic collective. Don't bother insulting them, they can't read English anyway.

Your liver is churning through your bloodstream?

Am I the only one who is visualising something extremely bizarre here?

Glad you had a good holiday, anyway!



..........................................................................................

That which does not kill us makes us stranger.
(Llewelyn the dragon, Ozy and Millie)

Sarah

Well, it's definitely churning something...



PSD

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This is the work of an Italian narco-anarchic collective. Don't bother insulting them, they can't read English anyway.

ah, the joys of having a liver ! I assume you do still have a liver ?

Apparently you can lose up to 90% of liver functioin before it actually makes its protests heard...



PSD

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This is the work of an Italian narco-anarchic collective. Don't bother insulting them, they can't read English anyway.