Not this weekend, but the weekend previous, I went to an old friends wedding in London~ after dancing like a man possessed all night, I woke up in the morning with a stinking hangover and a black eye, but my troubles were far from over…
I’d stayed with a friend in a hotel near docklands and after a hearty cooked breakfast, we parted company and then my adventure began…
My car and clothes other than the (now sweat soaked) tux I was wearing were at another friends in Ealing: on a normal day, this wouldn’t have been an issue, what with the ample public transport; however, the fates were conspiring against me and having laboured my limited intellect to buy a ticket from the machine in East India DLR station, I then discovered that the station was shut due to engineering works.
Having danced with such vigour, I was struggling to walk as my muscles were really not happy at their additional workload and were attempting industrial action; nonetheless, with grit, determination and regular checks on google maps, I hobbled a mile or so to the nearest tube station. Thankfully, this was open, but due to further engineering works, I would have to change to come at Ealing Broadway from a different angle.
After yet more grimacing from traversing the huge tunnel network at Bank station, once I was on the train that should’ve taken me safely to my destination, it was announced there was a points problem and all trains would now be diverted to Richmond.
I eventually made it to South Ealing and another long walk, arriving at my friends house just as they were going out, so immediately drove for 5 hours back to deep dark Wales.
That my friends is a proper hangover.
(I actually quite enjoyed it though, being in a state where you struggle to GAF, making eyes at folks on the tube with a black eye and a tux gets some quality responses)