With a friend visiting from the US who enjoys a night on the town and a drink or twelve, Friday and Saturday nights were essentially spent trading rounds. We wandered the bars in the CBD Friday, and The Cross Saturday, ending up at a sweet basement club with a smoking hot female guest DJ. And, as a proper finish to a night in The Cross, we paid a visit to Harry’s Cafe de Wheels for a tiger. It was horribly wonderful.
While I’ve been severely out of practice, improbably sober most of the time for living in a country not just renowned but stereotyped for its beer consumption, I did hold my own. The day after was another story. Thing is, it’s not that I was much worse off than I ever have been from a night of drinking. I think I just notice it more now because my body spends more time toxin-free, and because I get off my ass a bit more, particularly walking when I go anywhere.
Still, it’s completely worth feeling awful all weekend once in a while.