Ouch

Leaving party last night and this morning was very, very grim.

The hangover was quite bad but it wasn’t helped by Virgin installing cable in the house at eight sodding thirty in the morning, so I woke to the sound of the front of the building vibrating as a hole was drilled through the wall.

But the hangover was well worth it. Last night was a great send off and huge kudos to everyone who showed up. There were some unlikely arrivals who I hadn’t seen in ages, older friends and a few relatively recent ones. Special award to Rupert who managed to get out of the Apple launch in time for a quick drink before persuading the BBC to send a car to pick him up from the pub so he could do an interview.

It all started off quite slowly, although we weren’t the first people there. But then it just seemed to hit a critical mass of people and things kicked off. People mingled well and it was good to see so many old friends. The turnout was surprisingly high – I nearly had a Sally Field "You like me, you really like me!" moment.

But the Brownian motion of parties was in play; just as all house parties end up in the kitchen eventually so this one ended up in the smoking area outside the pub. By nine the upstairs bar I’d booked was empty, apart from a few forlorn looking rucksacks, and everyone was outside. To be fair it was a hot and muggy night and probably the majority of people there were smokers.

We stayed out until closing time and then A, A and myself headed into Soho to find a bar that was open. I nearly got refused entry, after the bouncer found my homemade ‘In case of emergency’ kit from C. This excellent gift contained Marmite, chocolate, tea and a bottle of beer. We agreed to check it in at the door.

After a quick drink my brain started sending me signals that it was time to go. Staggered down to Trafalgar Square and low and behold an N47 was waiting to whisk me straight to the end of our street. God looks after drunks and small children*. Got home and fell into bed, actually took a running leap if memory serves. It as a night to remember.

*Well, obviously not, unless the deity was asleep at the switch in Austria and Portugal.