You know when you get one of those times where possibly your body had been assaulted and perhaps not in a good way, where even the laws of gravity are not on your side. This was one of those times.

Having gone to bed with a mixture of sleep deprivation, foreign booze and a cuddly toy, I was taken into a world of darkness, and would remain there if only for the melodic ringing of the blackberry at my bedside, informing me that either I was entitled to a special ultra deluxe phone package with 4756746773458734583458345 minutes of free texting for the cheap price of £450 a year plus the body part of your choice or someone wanted to talk to me who was in Estonia.

The ordeal of trying to open your eyes was more traumatic than trying to evade capture by the student people on the streets of London. The pain, the suffering, all that had been before was nothing compared to the sheer strain of letting a glimmer of daylight piece the darkness that had consumed me.

Pressed on I did, until one full eye was open, and I found after a few seconds that I could read again too. It was Steve, just wondering if we could meet up at 11, a mere hour from the phone call. You would have possibly had a safer bet on the plumber not over charging for that bit of bent pipe which costs 50p from the Plumb Center.

But never one to lie down for long, I raised my head aganist my better judgement and made my way out of the sleeping world into the waking one. Not a clever thing to do but there we are.

Once I made it out of the hotel into the cool winter air, things were slightly better. Maybe the cold had numbed the pain coursing through my head…

Once we three had met up in the old town, (Steve, Darren who is Steve’s brother and myself, not the three witches.) it was just enough time to wander around some of the newer parts of Taliann, to see all that we could see. And our epic trek into the unknown, lead us down several streets, mainly as Steve had no real idea where we were.

And then, we needed to buy plates.

So here we are in the epic widerness of estonia, doing what other middle class people do, look for funky plates. Now that’s a story to tell your grandkids…What? OK, how would you describe the experience, like the Disney world adverts where the art of buying plates is magical?

After that epic journey to mount till to pay for said plates, with enough useless banter along the way to annoy Steve such as “I wouldn’t pay that much” and “What’s that smell?” with my favourite being “They’re all bloody white!”, Steve and Darren had to go off to a family outing, in which the two families would either bond firmly or kill each other in the attempt at what was only described afterwards as:

a big place with empty old buildings.

Forgive me if I didn’t orgasm at hearing this.

As for myself, the Lord of Leisure, the afternoon was mine. So what’s the best thing to do? Write up the Blog and then collapse to an Episode of “Have I got News for you?” (The one with Brian Blessed in). Basically, if you go for a heavy drinking session, make sure it’s not at a bar with your favourite show on, in a different language.

A few hours later, the alcohol filled sleepiness now fully gone, the next fun packed adventure brought us to the German eatery known as…err…thingy mcbambrook or something, I can’t remember I’ve slept since then. Let’s have a picture to remind ourselves;

Ok, that picture doesn’t really help matters in terms of identifying where we were at the time, but perhaps it will convey the level of joy that all were having at the time.

No?

Ok, let’s go into detail about the event which will drive you to force a bolt through your cheeks to make the pain go away…Now, during the event the table filled with literally people, required a master, one who would speak for us all, to order the drinks, and he (for it had to be a man) was the single point of contact if anyone had complaints, or required medical attention.

That man was Steve.

I’m not even touching that with a barge pole, so let’s move onto the more interesting fact that we find out on this evening that if the happy couple were to give birth to a boy, he would not be called Luke. The reason was, that Steve wouldn’t get to say “Luke I am your father” then wee himself laughing. Shame really, I’d have a good un… 🙂

Everyone ate too much, talked so much about things of the day, all the while, this minstrel band of very attractive ladies who played ye olde type ofe musice, which required every word of the sentence to have the letter e attached. It was the done thing back in those days. But they were very good, and all the while it was only polite to overly clap. A man wanted to dance on the tables, but wanted to ask beforehand, oh and before anyone gets the wrong end of the stick, it was one of the best evenings at a resturante I’d ever had.

The food was beyond excellent, and with all the beer and pear cider, it was way beyond anything I had before and frankly it’s very tempting to go back just for the one meal back there!

Right let’s all pile outside for a picture:

Now, you would think that after one night on the razz, with a fair amount of food and beer mixed with cider in the belly, that would be the ideal time to go back to the hotel, to be fresh for the big day. Well, like the contents of a baby’s nappy, you know that’s wrong. The Lord of Leisure with the Best Man went and drank 2 more litres of German beer at the bar from the night before, where it appeared there were two blokes with guitar who wanted to get things going slowly or badly, bugger knows at this point, and at around 3ish, maybe, I had wandered past the heavy metal bar that had decided to spring up outside the hotel and collapsed into bed, all without wanting a wee all the way home.

GREAT SUCCESS.