That and we had an all girl post-party-party in Clare's room which might have included whiskey and may not have finished until 3am.
So. You'll be wondering whether we managed to actually stick somewhere vaguely close to the plan.
Heh. Right.
The day started well. Well, eventually the day started and there may have been a small amount of running around preparing the last things, as I wandered around scrubbing floors and arresting the last of the dust bunnies. At which point the first guest arrived. Now this wasn't at all unexpected, it was my flatmate's friend from school and her insanely talented daughter, we didn't realise quite how talented until we got to see examples of her artwork in the middle of the night. Astounding.
The vague plan was that the three of them would hop in to town, visit the Tate, as I was tidying the rest of the house, and then come back to change with plenty of time ready for the guests to arrive. Which will be why the four of us hired Boris Bikes and cycled in the general direction of the Tate. Via Wapping.
It was certainly a lovely day for it and, having deposited Clare and the daughter at London Bridge in search of a bike stand, the remainder of the party wobbled off to head along the river. A quick wander via Borough market took us on to a very busy river side. Hmm, there wasn't going to be much riding here. But that was okay because we found a Pimms seller. And, thinking about it, the cucumber that was in the Pimms may have been responsible for my current mildly delicate constitution. We did though hear the roar as the marathon runners appeared on the other bank!
Eventually, after wandering a little further, we ended up opposite Parliament and nattered the afternoon away. That was until we realised what the time was and thought it best to alert the art junkies...
And have a race.
The race wasn't intentional, but it did have a Top Gear challenge feel about it, we would pedal like demons back to Contrary Towers, as the B team would jump on the hyper-speed Thames Clipper and roar back via Canary Wharf... Or would have done if it wasn't for the fact that the boats were insanely busy.. So we won. In spite of nearly every road in the City being closed. Oh yes. Does. A. Little. Dance.
The penance was... They had to get the Pimms. And Ice. And Lemonade. Whilst we lounged on the balcony and utterly ignored the impending party start.
By this point mild panic crept in, Clare was dispatched to shower and prepare for her guests whilst her friend and I went to empty Chez Lidl of Bardolino, a favourite of these towers. And then get back to also shower, melt, wish I had a shower again, and, eventually, wander downstairs to say hello.
Anyway. It was pretty fab, the food was divine. The conversation never seemed to stop. And I only wanted to throw somebody off the balcony once. Well, maybe twice. So that was a good thing. Yes? I also was largely well behaved. Didn't get a snog and did manage to break a glass. Which I'll never be allowed to forget I'm sure.
It turns out that it was very different to University parties, I definitely remember more snogging at them. Pfft.
No brownies were hurt making this. |
Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom |
Did you expect anything else?
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