I went out and got drunk last night with some incredibly wonderful ladies.
The fact that I managed to forget between I don't know and 7pm that I was going was a little terrible - I opened the door to my godmother and godsister, armed with a giant branch of holly, standing there, one waiting to go out with me, one having so very kindly offered to babysit.
OH SHIT! I gasped, to their consternation.
Srsly. I'd walked the dog, been to the shop (twice) and had taken my bra off and everything. Thankfully, I hadn't eaten dinner. Well... some chips.
Two other things marred the evening a bit - one friend had thrown her back out and was in agonising pain all night. That was awful. She was a soldier, but Jeeze. Why are there no mobile 24 hour back units to rush to the rescue with pain killers and osteopaths? There certainly should be. It always happens on Fridays or weekends, doesn't it?
The other issue was the incredibly loud women beside us in the wee restaurant. The had all the fun and prosecco, and shrieked and shouted so loudly that I couldn't actually hear the people at my table.
I feel so assaulted by loud background noise - the restaurant had music on too, but the women were so loud it just added to the not hearing, you couldn't actually make it out most of the time. It makes me really anxious as my brain can't take both the noise and trying to concentrate on my own thing.
I'm pretty sure I've been with the noisy party more than once, and it makes me feel ashamed. Everyone else is paying for their night out too. Keep your fucking voices down, eh?
Other than that... those women are so funny, and clever, and good. Hilarity was enjoyed.
And damn - I've never actually drunk in the bar bit of the Harbour bar - let me explain the Harbour bar - it's been voted best put in the world by the Lonely Planet guide, but it really wasn't. However, the family who'd owned it for years sold it recently, and the new owners have played a blinder and actualised it. They opened up the upstairs that had been a living space, and it's all exposed brick and rafters and little secret rooms. My friends sons run a Wednesday night Cult Film Club there. Then down stairs there's a weird sort of velvet lounge bit with a wee stage for all sorts of bands. Outside there's a conservatory where things like the Circle Sessions run, basically open mike for anyone's anything they want.
Outside is a big covered space for smokers, with food. And then on the left of the pub there's the original bar, that's still and old man's pub, with wood, and leather, and traditional Irish music, it's quiet and calm... I've never actually drunk in there, but we went in last night - at the end of the L shaped bar there's a wee secret Granny's front room! With wallpaper, and a horrible 70s fireplace, and a couch with a crocheted Afghan and a Christmas tree and old light fixtures - it's like a magic time warp! It's perfect! I'll put up a couple blurry, drunken pictures later but it doesn't really do it justice.
Magical. Maybe it is the bst bar in the world.
The fact that I managed to forget between I don't know and 7pm that I was going was a little terrible - I opened the door to my godmother and godsister, armed with a giant branch of holly, standing there, one waiting to go out with me, one having so very kindly offered to babysit.
OH SHIT! I gasped, to their consternation.
Srsly. I'd walked the dog, been to the shop (twice) and had taken my bra off and everything. Thankfully, I hadn't eaten dinner. Well... some chips.
Two other things marred the evening a bit - one friend had thrown her back out and was in agonising pain all night. That was awful. She was a soldier, but Jeeze. Why are there no mobile 24 hour back units to rush to the rescue with pain killers and osteopaths? There certainly should be. It always happens on Fridays or weekends, doesn't it?
The other issue was the incredibly loud women beside us in the wee restaurant. The had all the fun and prosecco, and shrieked and shouted so loudly that I couldn't actually hear the people at my table.
I feel so assaulted by loud background noise - the restaurant had music on too, but the women were so loud it just added to the not hearing, you couldn't actually make it out most of the time. It makes me really anxious as my brain can't take both the noise and trying to concentrate on my own thing.
I'm pretty sure I've been with the noisy party more than once, and it makes me feel ashamed. Everyone else is paying for their night out too. Keep your fucking voices down, eh?
Other than that... those women are so funny, and clever, and good. Hilarity was enjoyed.
And damn - I've never actually drunk in the bar bit of the Harbour bar - let me explain the Harbour bar - it's been voted best put in the world by the Lonely Planet guide, but it really wasn't. However, the family who'd owned it for years sold it recently, and the new owners have played a blinder and actualised it. They opened up the upstairs that had been a living space, and it's all exposed brick and rafters and little secret rooms. My friends sons run a Wednesday night Cult Film Club there. Then down stairs there's a weird sort of velvet lounge bit with a wee stage for all sorts of bands. Outside there's a conservatory where things like the Circle Sessions run, basically open mike for anyone's anything they want.
Outside is a big covered space for smokers, with food. And then on the left of the pub there's the original bar, that's still and old man's pub, with wood, and leather, and traditional Irish music, it's quiet and calm... I've never actually drunk in there, but we went in last night - at the end of the L shaped bar there's a wee secret Granny's front room! With wallpaper, and a horrible 70s fireplace, and a couch with a crocheted Afghan and a Christmas tree and old light fixtures - it's like a magic time warp! It's perfect! I'll put up a couple blurry, drunken pictures later but it doesn't really do it justice.
Magical. Maybe it is the bst bar in the world.
1 comment:
Well, it sounds magical to me.
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