Monday 28 July 2008

Well I left the house on Saturday after all. Apparently showers can turn the dead back into the living and, even more miraculously, the hungover into the vaguely functioning. Impressive.

What isn't so impressive is that I made it to the Crown Pier where I sat on the granite benches that look straight into the harbour beside the Boathouse and read my library book very slowly. I drank some water and then went home, stopping only to buy some fish for yesterday's supper which was an extremely smart thing to do as my boyfriend's fishing trips to Bordeaux on Saturday and Petit Port on Sunday were both fruitless. Well, obviously they were fruitless, as intended, but they were also fish-less, which was rather a disappointment for the fisherman and his friend. Marks and Spencer's finest plaice fillets it was.

On Saturday evening we went to a wedding reception at 8.15pm. The invitation said 7.30pm, but we were, apparently, the first evening guests to arrive. The bar staff were waiting, the DJ was waiting, the room was decorated and the PowerPoint presentation was projecting a loop of childhood photos which we watched and watched and watched. Other evening guests turned up. We wondered where the wedding party could have got to. At 9.05pm they made their entrance and it was almost worth the wait as both bride and groom looked spectacular. They danced their first dance as man and wife to, "Sometimes the snow comes down in June, sometimes the sun goes round the moon..." (you know - the one from the Bisto advert). We smiled, drank a glass of red wine and went home. I felt pooped, having managed to catch a cold in the wake of my horrible hangover.

The incitement for the hangover took place, of course, on Friday evening when I dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo and invited Shaggy to accompany me onboard an ancient double-decker bus that transported us from dive to dive across the island. We disembarked from the rust heap at each of these hostelries and, in a crowd of our fellow fancily-dressed, crammed inside and downed a glass of "wine" followed by a shot of tequila before returning with mistaken eagerness to the bus. I am frankly amazed that Shaggy and I made it through the evening without being set alight. Our costumes and wigs were made entirely of polyester.

I will write again another day as it is now Time For Netball.


SC