24 hour party people

Kelly and I went out, and stayed out. We began our adventure in Soho at a club called Candy Bar, where the dance floor was postcard-sized, and packed from 10pm. Kelly is very good at meeting people, so we soon had a new friend called Sarah who was lovely and local.

Too much RnB makes my knees sore - so we left with Sarah to find a techno bar. We ended up in 'Ghetto', which was mostly full of gay men taking E, but had great music. My favourite mash-up was 'Ride on Time' with CnC Music Factory's 'Gonna make you sweat'- a bizarre early/late nineties mix, but the DJ pulled it off superbly.

I can tell you that out of context (i.e. without fried chicken, sunshine, posh houses and a parade) Red Stripe is the foulest beer I have ever had - Jamaican or otherwise. I am sad to report that I went back to drinking water (everything else besides beer being too expensive), and may have achieved world record status for lowest blood alcohol level ever recorded during a night out in Soho.

Kelly and I (and Sarah and other random friends we had made) closed the bar and went in search of somewhere (anywhere!?!?!) still open. Determined to be out until the tubes reopened, Kelly and I ended up on a night bus to Clapham. We met up with British Rail and got a train back to Central London as the sun came up. Lovely.

Since then I have slept a lot, set up my new room and splashed out on:
- a washing basket
- a towel; and
- 7 frozen meals.

It appears to me that the line between being on holiday and being unemployed is getting thinner and thinner...