Lost weekend...

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I may never go back to Bournemouth again.  It's not because I don't like the town, because I do.  It's beautiful, and the beach is stunning.  No, it's more for the reason that every bar between West Cliff and the gardens has my photo under their counter with 'BARRED' stamped across it in red.  

It all started rather quietly on Saturday morning.  I surprised Miss R, The Mother and Mrs Jangles at Maidenhead station.  They had been expecting me at Reading but I thought I'd creep up on them on the platform and check out how many bags of tat they were carrying.  Well it didn't look too bad as I approached them, just a helium balloon screaming 'Bride Tribe' tied to a suitcase and a fairly innocent looking white carrier bag.  

Once settled on the train, Miss R pulled out the white carrier, and said, 'Now let's see what we have in here'.  Well ladies, you all saw the state I was in on the train, with veil, glasses, badge and hairband all announcing that I was on my last few days of freedom before tying the knot the knot.  There was also a garter which I'm sure you'll all be relieved to hear managed to stay as far away from my leg as possible.  I'm not saying it was small, but half an hour with that on and I'd be at risk of losing everything from the ankle down (I couldn't get it any further than mid calf).  I have my nephew's gorgeous fiancee to thank for the hen night goodies, but she seems to have forgotten that I will be attending her hen do in a few short months' time...what goes around and all that..

Saturday afternoon was spent in a beach club which had come across the novel idea to charge £1 for musical requests.  It was actually quite a cool place, but daughters one and two decided that winging the barman a £5 note was a very reasonable price to completely Abbarise the bar.  So the music went slowly downhill, starting off with some serious house music to Abba, then the Grease Mega-mix which saw some very interesting dance moves in the 'Greased Lightning' section and finally ending with The Gap Band and Oops Upside Your Head.

And yes, we all got on the floor in this swanky bar and gave the youngsters a glimpse of what life could have been if they'd been clubbing in the 1980's.

So no, I don't think I'll be going back to Bournemouth...

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