A work jolly in Oxford. Had a very scary trip down with “Biggles” Pearce-Boby at the helm of his jag. One hand on his phone, the other at his ear…how the hell was he steering? Very scary. During the course of the hour and a half trip, he talked on the phone for an hour.
Apparently, when going on a work conference, it is essential to check in, shower, change and then get drunk. And who were we to buck the trend and traditions handed down over the years. We travelled into Oxford centre to a disco but, alas, it was boring. For me, at least.
I took to the streets and went a bit walkabout. I have no idea where I went, what I did or who I talked to but I do remember having the most amazing kebab. Eventually, and completely lost, I managed to find a taxi who seemed to know where I was going. He threw me from his moving cab at around 4am.
After a few hours sleep I ventured down for the conference. I felt decidedly woozy but I’m sure that was the lack of sleep. It couldn’t have been a hangover as I’d not had time to sober up.