![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
r_scribblesWell, I'm back. Actually, we've been back since yesterday, but I spent all of yesterday very hungover and very tired. Hadn't got really, really drunk for over a year and a half, so I think I did pretty well in Gibraltar - I recall talking an awful lot of cock, but I didn't fall down anything or off anything. Hoorah for me.
Flew in on Thursday, bumping into Kev, Leah and Vicky at Gatwick's Eat and discovering we were Plane Buddies. Thursday night was fantastic. There was a live music festival in one of the town squares where we all met up, including the Bride & Groom to be, their families and many of their other friends. There was a band called Volume, and many whole families with little kids still dancing away at half 12 in the morning. That was the really striking thing I felt about Gib (apart from the weirdness of being somewhere so very Mediterranean but with red phone boxes, pillar postboxes, British Police cars etc) - there seems to be a real feeling of community. Both nights we were wandering around the city centre in the early hours of the morning, and there was no lariness whatsoever.
Despite having a few jars I woke up feeling very well on Friday morning and we all met up for brunch, then met a few more bods (including a just-landed Spuddie) and found a pub called The Angry Friar for them to have their lunch at (that's right - we went to the pub with the best name. As Spuddie said - it's the method you use for picking your geegee at the Grand National, why not apply it to lunch?) Me, Hubs, Kev, Leah and Vicky then went for a cable car ride up the Rock to point at the apes and pretend we could see Africa. Unfortunately, the cloud up there was so thick we couldn't even see the bottom of the Rock, let alone the next continent. A quick shower and scrub-up later and we were ready for Jools & Sylv's 5pm wedding. A proper, Proper Catholic one it was, too, with Communion Wine, Transubstatiation, heaps and heaps of Guilt, the lot. It was super though, and very grand. Reception didn't kick off til 8pm, so about 12 of us pootled over to a nearby bar run by scary, shouty Spanish people for booze, Calamari and profiteroles. Spud and I discussed important subjects such as the last half of the latest series of Who, PG Memorabilia and the Fabulousness of Jess Hynes. Then we entrusted unto Ade the task of getting us up to the Casino, and he did get us there pretty promptly. There's a first time for everything. Huge, fuck-off buffet, a band that played the Godfather Theme, oh, and a free bar, which explained my extreme drunkenness, Flo's intensified Fruitiness and all those other things that usually happen to us when alcohol is involved. I spent the whole night barefoot, danced badly with Flo, spent a long time looking at the utterly gorgeous view, got loud and emotional. At one point I fell to my knees in front of Kev and screamed 'Don't you care, Kev? Don't you care about the sacrifice that Sam Beckett made? He's still out there, striving to put right what once went wrong!'
We went back to the hotel at 3am.
We got up again to walk to the airport at 9.30am.
I was still drunk.
By the time I'd showered, dressed, packed, walked the 45 min walk through Gib to the airport drinking copious amounts of Lucozade I was in the first, sicky stages of a hangover. Incredibly, I wasn't actually sick, since I'd done all my throwing up at about 4am. We were plane buddies back with the newlyweds themselves, and it was great to have a chat with them, since we hadn't really got to see them before. On the plane, the sickness turned into a headache, which was at least managable, and after dosing myself with some Anadin and more Lucozade at Gatwick train station I was pretty much OK, if tired, by the time we finally got to Canters.
Was overjoyed to see my Angel again.
We all had Chinese for tea (more salt, more sugar, more carbs... *sigh*) and somehow, in spite of my fried brain I still managed to win at Trivial Persuits. Mum offered me wine. I laughed at her.
Innit super weather here? Had a nice jolly out to the park today and listened to an African band at the Bandstand. And since Hubs is still on his Hols, we might go to the beach tomorrow!
Flew in on Thursday, bumping into Kev, Leah and Vicky at Gatwick's Eat and discovering we were Plane Buddies. Thursday night was fantastic. There was a live music festival in one of the town squares where we all met up, including the Bride & Groom to be, their families and many of their other friends. There was a band called Volume, and many whole families with little kids still dancing away at half 12 in the morning. That was the really striking thing I felt about Gib (apart from the weirdness of being somewhere so very Mediterranean but with red phone boxes, pillar postboxes, British Police cars etc) - there seems to be a real feeling of community. Both nights we were wandering around the city centre in the early hours of the morning, and there was no lariness whatsoever.
Despite having a few jars I woke up feeling very well on Friday morning and we all met up for brunch, then met a few more bods (including a just-landed Spuddie) and found a pub called The Angry Friar for them to have their lunch at (that's right - we went to the pub with the best name. As Spuddie said - it's the method you use for picking your geegee at the Grand National, why not apply it to lunch?) Me, Hubs, Kev, Leah and Vicky then went for a cable car ride up the Rock to point at the apes and pretend we could see Africa. Unfortunately, the cloud up there was so thick we couldn't even see the bottom of the Rock, let alone the next continent. A quick shower and scrub-up later and we were ready for Jools & Sylv's 5pm wedding. A proper, Proper Catholic one it was, too, with Communion Wine, Transubstatiation, heaps and heaps of Guilt, the lot. It was super though, and very grand. Reception didn't kick off til 8pm, so about 12 of us pootled over to a nearby bar run by scary, shouty Spanish people for booze, Calamari and profiteroles. Spud and I discussed important subjects such as the last half of the latest series of Who, PG Memorabilia and the Fabulousness of Jess Hynes. Then we entrusted unto Ade the task of getting us up to the Casino, and he did get us there pretty promptly. There's a first time for everything. Huge, fuck-off buffet, a band that played the Godfather Theme, oh, and a free bar, which explained my extreme drunkenness, Flo's intensified Fruitiness and all those other things that usually happen to us when alcohol is involved. I spent the whole night barefoot, danced badly with Flo, spent a long time looking at the utterly gorgeous view, got loud and emotional. At one point I fell to my knees in front of Kev and screamed 'Don't you care, Kev? Don't you care about the sacrifice that Sam Beckett made? He's still out there, striving to put right what once went wrong!'
We went back to the hotel at 3am.
We got up again to walk to the airport at 9.30am.
I was still drunk.
By the time I'd showered, dressed, packed, walked the 45 min walk through Gib to the airport drinking copious amounts of Lucozade I was in the first, sicky stages of a hangover. Incredibly, I wasn't actually sick, since I'd done all my throwing up at about 4am. We were plane buddies back with the newlyweds themselves, and it was great to have a chat with them, since we hadn't really got to see them before. On the plane, the sickness turned into a headache, which was at least managable, and after dosing myself with some Anadin and more Lucozade at Gatwick train station I was pretty much OK, if tired, by the time we finally got to Canters.
Was overjoyed to see my Angel again.
We all had Chinese for tea (more salt, more sugar, more carbs... *sigh*) and somehow, in spite of my fried brain I still managed to win at Trivial Persuits. Mum offered me wine. I laughed at her.
Innit super weather here? Had a nice jolly out to the park today and listened to an African band at the Bandstand. And since Hubs is still on his Hols, we might go to the beach tomorrow!
