I drank too much (gin, win, beer...).
I ate too much (two fat-cow breakfasts, cake, Turkish, Thai, hotel biscuits...).
I spent too much (hotel, two new tops, train fare, plus all of the afore-mentioned london-prices food and drink....ahhh, let's not go there, actually).
I had SUCH a good time.
Oh, it was just ace to be back in London with the girls shopping, boozing and having a laugh around old haunts and new. I haven't laughed so much in ages as I did last night reminiscing about all our awful exploits back when we were carefree twenty-somethings. They are so fab. We're already planning our next getaway - once our credit cards have recovered from this one's bashing.
Hotel was...interesting, plonked between Angel and Old Street, which had looked good on paper, but to get to Angel we had to walk through a particularly dog shit-tastic estate with lots of lurching blokes clutching cans of Special Brew roaming the streets. So that was niiiiice, reminded us of the old days when we shared a flat near King's Cross back when it was prostitute central. As for the hotel bar, it was a total Star Wars bar full of pissed meathead rugby fans, with The Weather Girls, Baccara and Jason Donovan playing on big screens (must confess, I did enjoy seeing Baccara - and come to think of it, that Weather Girls video with all the men in their flasher macs and red pants did really make me laugh last night).
Hooray for mates. And hooray for being appreciated. I've returned to "I Love Yow Mum" notes from son, kisses and arms-flung-round-the-neck hugs galore from the girls. Mind you, partner's buggered off out, leaving me to paint the front room (have managed one wall so far). It's good to be back.
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