|Punch and Judy on Cathedral Green, Exeter|
Jeff and I went ‘day drinking’ last Friday to celebrate his birthday. This is the best kind of drinking, of course, because it feels naughty and wrong.
As you know I have been on the Dukan Diet (see last post) but, after a just a short while of searching, I managed to find an article on the internet which said it was dangerous for me to be on it so it was imperative I stopped. The fact that it coincided with Jeff’s birthday is neither here nor there.
So, I was off for day drinking having not had a drink for three weeks; perhaps not my most thought out plan.
To ensure we didn’t just look like a couple of alcoholic losers, we began our session on Exeter Quay where there are a number of antique and retro shops. This gave the illusion that we were shopping and simply stopping for a drink along the way. As I was breaking my diet with alcohol, I also threw in a ‘burger board’ which we shared in the dark bar of The Ship Inn in Martins Lane.
|Burger Board. Mmmnnnn!|
It was a dry, warm day which was great because it meant I could wear the wedge sandals I bought two months ago in the misguided notion that we would have enough weather to wear them. Not only did they look great, they added around three inches to my height and, no doubt, made me look like a long-legged lovely. Jeff was doubtful, he still remembers the ‘knee high boot night out’ when it took me thirty minutes to stagger painfully along the high street in the name of fashion.
|Your feet don’t look gorgeous after two hours|
“New sandals? They’ll be killing you by tonight”. “No, they’re comfy because they might be high but they’re level. See?”
Having had my first drink at 3pm, by the time we arrived at Mama Stone’s bar at around 6pm I was pretty wobbly and my ‘comfy’ sandals had rubbed massive blisters on my little toes. Jeff was already smug at the fact that I’d almost broken my neck on a number of occasions as I attempted to navigate the many cobbled streets Exeter offers. For this reason, I fixed a smile on my face as we walked to the next bar and tried not to wince as each step removed another layer of skin from my swelling toes. No “I told you so’s” here.
|Possibly the coolest place in Exeter|
Of course, as Dr Dukan warns in his book, full of the evil liquid you are more likely to get the munchies (not his words, but that’s what he means). So, I decided a kebab was essential to round off our night and we ordered a large chicken doner – very bad decision. We ended up with a polystyrene box filled with overcooked chicken swimming in grease atop a stale pitta. I ate very little of it, but enough to remind me why I only fancy a kebab when drunk. It’s a bit like childbirth; absolutely awful at the time but after a few months you forget how hideous it was and think it would be a good idea to do it all over again.
I wimped out and changed to diet coke at around 8pm so we managed to last until the final train of the day (10.45pm for gods sake! They don’t do late in Devon) and were back in Copplestone by 11:30. Just a ten minute painful stroll home (still not letting Jeff know I was in absolute agony) and we were back in our house where I could kick off the offending footwear.
Perhaps I’m too old for day drinking?