3rd October 2001

Ooooooooooooooooooooohhhh, Viennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Did we get to
see the dancing horses? Did we go on the big wheel? Was it a weekend
of high-brow culture? Did I manage to grow some pencil-thin
sideboards for the trip? Well, what do you think???
Tonto and I travelled into Liverpool St to meet Mr Lewis and while
we were waiting had the first of what would be several drinks that
weekend. We got the express up to Stansted and despite being in
plenty of time we just about made the flight. Shortly after take-off
some of the passengers who were sitting near to us would have been
wishing we hadn't made it after Mr Lewis decided to share the
remainder of last night's curry with them by dropping a guff of
biblical proportions, something that he repeated on a few occassions
during the weekend. We arrived and dropped off our gear at the
apartment we were sharing and went downstairs to the bar to meet the
rest of the birthday posse and a bunch of jolly nice chaps (and one
chapess) they were too. Geordies, Paddies, Cockneys and Black
Country Bumpkins, all out to drink Vienna dry.
One of KP's favourite haunts when he was working in Vienna was a bar
called Ronnie's and we plotted up there and drank until the early
hours and despite having a few beers and not getting much kip I was
feeling ok the next morning when we hit the beer trail again.
Afternoon in "The Fan Bar" saw KP and Finn demolishing what Finn
descibed as a "shite pile of whisky". I have to say that I have
never seen a more dramatic recovery since ET burst back to life. KP
had seven pints of beer, three shots of some local spirit that I
think was used to run the tanks in WWII, three shots of Jameson, a
vodka and a tequila. At six in the evening he was failing and the
eyes were starting to go and it was looking as though he would not
make it. I was even saving a bit a battery power on my video camera
for the inevitable "crazy legs"or the "big kip in the dinner" (not
seen for at least 12 years) but no, in the biggest second wind since
Hurricane Annie, he recovers and carries on with the beers until 4
in the morning. If he ever has to have an operation I don't know
what they will knock him out with. Unfortunately, I was on the beers
until 4 in the morning with him and when I woke about 11 my head was
reminding me of every drop. I "Ralph'd" a couple of times but there
was not much solid in the tank and all I could raise was bile
(readers all groan "oh do you have to?"). We head of to Charlie P's,
an Irish bar, to watch a feast of footy for the next 5 hours.The
Red's won up in Toonland, much too the chagrine of Mr Latty, a dyed
in the wool Magpie but this could not raise much more than a smile
from myself. I was sipping fizzy water and could not face food or
alcohol and had to contend with much ribbing from all concerned. I
felt a little better when we jumped in a cab to go to The
Schweizerhaus which is a restaurant that serves big knuckles of pork
covered in crispy crackling (veggies all groan "oh do you have
to?"). I thought that the food would sort me out and I would be able
to fully partake in the sinking of the excellent draught Budvar they
served in this place but no. I could not eat the pork and the sight
of it was making me feel ill. I relapsed and starved. At 9 we
finished up and went on the go-karts at the nearby fair but not
before a trip through The Funhouse. I dont know what we must have
looked like. Ten sipped-up geezers and one sipped-up nurse falling
over and giggling like schoolies. I did a couple of turns on the
go-karts but after being rammed hard from behind (oo-er missus) the
functioning part of my brain was telling me that two rounds was
enough. I decided that my next stop would be my bed. I was feeling
hungry now and was hoping that the McDonalds near the apartment
would be open so I could grab something before bedtime. Too late, it
was shut and I was starving. There was nothing in the apartment
except a little sweet which I demolished with gusto and then tried
to go to sleep and ignore the sounds of my protesting stomach.
Felt better in the morning and was glad to get a bit of food down my
neck at the airport. KP was failing when he arrived at the airport
but he still managed to bag an "Imperial" breakfast which included
champagne and chocolate cake amongst other delights before getting
his plane. KP's brother Liam was not in good shape but was looking a
better colour than the ash-grey he looked when he woke up. Poor chap
had probably managed about 3 hours sleep in the last 48.
Well it doesn't end here because I was out again last night with my
cousin Elly (with a Y!). I took her to see The Afro Celt Sound
System at Shepherds Bush Empire. Afro Mart had sorted me a couple of
tickets and I always like going to SBE. The show was a much bigger
production than I had seen from them before and they had some
interesting visuals but I felt it was a bit long (sorry Mart),
(Mart: "not as long as this episode!"). I was expecting Peter
Gabriel to put in an appearence to perfom their last single but he
didn't show up.
Well that was a large one wasn't it. I think I better go and have a
lie down.