Barely did I have time to wash the festival smell from my very pores before I was whisked away to Shiningford Manor for a week of living the high life in celebration of Betts’ recent 21st Birthday. To say this place was extravagant would be an understatement. Boasting 8 double bedrooms, a hot tub, pool AND spectacular views it was a million miles away from the relative squalor I’d afforded at Glastonbury. As this was a celebration, alcohol played a large part in our week and after our very civil dinner of Pizza and Pasta we all retired to the hot tubs with wine, beer and spirits flowing like water. It’s no surprise then that by the time we retired to the living room to play board games I was suitably jolly.
Maximum Capacity 7 my arse
A leisurely Wednesday involving a game of rounders to get the alcohol out of the system left us with plenty of energy for our big night out in Nottingham. Being in the middle of nowhere, we needed some form of transport to get us to the city and this came in the form of hell on earth, or The Party Bus as it is usually known. Now I’m not usually one for getting car sick but the combination of 1,000,000 degree heat, no windows, movement and alcohol were too much for me and I spent the entire journey willing it to be over as the others (thoroughly) enjoyed themselves. Thanks must go to Liv for helping me through this traumatic experience. Once we arrived and the lads had re-done up their shirts we made out way to the cocktail bar Coco Tang. Despite it being advertised as ‘student night’ there were very few students there at all and as I made my way to the bar I noticed an all too familiar face, namely Buff Ben who I hadn’t seen in over 6 months. As fate conspires his lovely girlfriend Kate works in the bar and by bizarre coincidence it happened to be Ben’s night off. With a Lychee Martini (incredible) in hand we retired to the smoking terrace to catch up.
As I said, 1,000,000 degrees on the Party Bus
By the time we returned downstairs a number of things had happened: one of our group (who shall not be named) had ended up with her head wrapped round the toilet bowl, George’s shirt had lost an entire arm and he seemed to be trying it on with any male who came within touching distance of our group. A few more Lychee Martini’s later and I had joined them on the dancefloor, busting moves and throwing shapes until there was just Kate, Riti and I left as the draw of McDonalds had just been too much for many of the group. At 3 we made our way back home in a much more sombre party bus than the one we had arrived in. Except for Max. Max was determined to make sure the party bus lived up to its name and the rest of the group willingly threw their last ounces of energy at him.
dem galz
Despite Wednesday being the big night out it wasn’t until Thursday that things started to hot up, with the arrival of Cath, Liz and Julie; the troublesome Mums. Bringing with them yet more alcohol and food we gathered outside with cocktails for Betts’ Mum’s speech about how she wasn’t too much of a looker as a child. If she thought this was to be the most embarrassing moment of the evening she was very much mistaken. After covering the topics of Marijuana, sex in golf bunkers and ‘Soggy Biscuit’ Betts and Zoe had turned a suitable shade of red and we retired inside to play The Cardboard Box game which some people took more seriously than others (me included). After a few rounds we were down to the last few: Me, Nikki, Riti, Betts, John and Ollie. Shock exits for Riti and Betts left the boys with a numerical advantage but unfortunately John’s pecking technique just couldn’t hack it in the final few rounds, setting up a final between Nikki and myself. By this stage we were down to just the very base of the box and I couldn’t see any way in which victory could be mine. A quick pep talk later and very important choice of song I was ready. With Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie egging me on I reached down and somehow plucked the box off the ground! The Mums were as excited as any and it’s probably best that I leave out the X-rated scenes that followed.
We scrub up well…
The following morning we had a check out time of 10am but having only got to bed at 6ish it’s safe to say that NONE of us were up. The unbelievably rude cleaner had ridden into town on the highest of her high horses and proceeded to blame us of many ridiculous things, including vomiting and pissing in the beds. It turned out to be water. Dick. Matters were made worse by the arrival of the owner who had an even higher horse than the cleaner, branding us disgusting before asking us to leave the premises. What a hilarious end to a fantastic week and once we’d sobered up sufficiently we headed home.
Tomorrow is the day where I finally celebrate my 21st birthday (6 months late) and next week I embark on my South American adventure with Warrick – so little time so much to do!
The Tumnus Trail 