Events, dear boy...
Last night was Giles's 20th birthday party, marked by a bar crawl in town. It was brilliant.
We started in the main Wetherspoons on Market Square. Noisy and characterless as ever, but I had a pint of perfectly acceptable pale ale, and was introduced to the ten or so new members who came along. This is a pretty remarkable schievement for G&S, as it's usually all we can manage to scrape together a few oldies at this time of year. Indicative of the charged and rejuvenated society, I suppose! We proceeded to Cucumara's, a modestly charming bar catering to a cocktail-swilling student clientele. Then on to the Olde Trip and the Sal. Now these are my type of pub: dingy, historical (the Trip claims to be the oldest pub in the country), resplendent with low-hanging roof beams and a wide selection of real ales. The Sal became the scene of a notable event when I decided to splash out on a little whisky. There was a board advertising their range of rare whiskies, including Pendyren, an intriguing Welsh whisky. Intrigue soon turned to horror, however, when I was charged ten pounds for a double. Blimey. It was very good, but probably meant for a greater conosseiur than this half-cut postgrad. A few rounds of Guess How Much I Paid For This Whisky later, and we were off to the Pit and Pendulum, for my money the most overrated bar in Nottingham. The decor is interesting for about ten minutes, but once the novelty wears off you realise there's not much on offer other than a wide selection of nauseatingly sweet cocktails (once more, spot the real ale drinker). I got through about a third of a Gluttony (there's a 7 Deadly Sins theme) before we were off to instantly forgettable Dogma, a place I've never been to before and am in no rush to return to. Then off to the Pitcher & Piano, a bar inside an old church, with stained-glass windows and everything. Beautiful place, but overpriced. I contented myself with an orange juice (bought for me by the lovely Jo when Matt Kitchen wasn't trying to gain access to her knickers with all the skill and dexterity of a senile grandmother trying to open a bag of crisps), and sloped off with Ed and Gemma rather than ruin the evening with a redundant trip to the Cookie Club.
Pipp (new member, human geneticist & budding forensic scientist... she'll be lucky) and Evil Dave seem to be a couple these days. Good luck to them... they follow in a rich tradition of G&S members getting off with each other, one which I seem to have narrowly avoided on a number of occasions. Which has sometimes been a blessing, sometimes a curse.
So an excellent night, all told. Nottingham centre was surprisingly pleasant and chav-free for the time of night, due no doubt to the fact that it was a weekday. I got to meet a lot of new people, and rubbed along pleasantly with all of them; a pleasant reminder that I am actually a human being, not some kind of combined worrying and work-avoidance device.
Speaking of work avoidance... duty calls.
We started in the main Wetherspoons on Market Square. Noisy and characterless as ever, but I had a pint of perfectly acceptable pale ale, and was introduced to the ten or so new members who came along. This is a pretty remarkable schievement for G&S, as it's usually all we can manage to scrape together a few oldies at this time of year. Indicative of the charged and rejuvenated society, I suppose! We proceeded to Cucumara's, a modestly charming bar catering to a cocktail-swilling student clientele. Then on to the Olde Trip and the Sal. Now these are my type of pub: dingy, historical (the Trip claims to be the oldest pub in the country), resplendent with low-hanging roof beams and a wide selection of real ales. The Sal became the scene of a notable event when I decided to splash out on a little whisky. There was a board advertising their range of rare whiskies, including Pendyren, an intriguing Welsh whisky. Intrigue soon turned to horror, however, when I was charged ten pounds for a double. Blimey. It was very good, but probably meant for a greater conosseiur than this half-cut postgrad. A few rounds of Guess How Much I Paid For This Whisky later, and we were off to the Pit and Pendulum, for my money the most overrated bar in Nottingham. The decor is interesting for about ten minutes, but once the novelty wears off you realise there's not much on offer other than a wide selection of nauseatingly sweet cocktails (once more, spot the real ale drinker). I got through about a third of a Gluttony (there's a 7 Deadly Sins theme) before we were off to instantly forgettable Dogma, a place I've never been to before and am in no rush to return to. Then off to the Pitcher & Piano, a bar inside an old church, with stained-glass windows and everything. Beautiful place, but overpriced. I contented myself with an orange juice (bought for me by the lovely Jo when Matt Kitchen wasn't trying to gain access to her knickers with all the skill and dexterity of a senile grandmother trying to open a bag of crisps), and sloped off with Ed and Gemma rather than ruin the evening with a redundant trip to the Cookie Club.
Pipp (new member, human geneticist & budding forensic scientist... she'll be lucky) and Evil Dave seem to be a couple these days. Good luck to them... they follow in a rich tradition of G&S members getting off with each other, one which I seem to have narrowly avoided on a number of occasions. Which has sometimes been a blessing, sometimes a curse.
So an excellent night, all told. Nottingham centre was surprisingly pleasant and chav-free for the time of night, due no doubt to the fact that it was a weekday. I got to meet a lot of new people, and rubbed along pleasantly with all of them; a pleasant reminder that I am actually a human being, not some kind of combined worrying and work-avoidance device.
Speaking of work avoidance... duty calls.