Wednesday, 30 March 2011

Barry in Bastille

Every time I work my eleven hour Wednesday shift after a night out, I make a vow to never again subject myself to such grim unenjoyment. And yet this morning I found myself stumbling to the bus stop at 7am, with the murky ghosts of six mojitos hovering in the very thin space between my aching skull and the sticky edges of my dehydrated brain. Ergh.

Still, if Claire could travel from Manchester to spend just one night in Paris with me and Lauren, then the least I could do was not cut her one night short.

We had planned to go for tea somewhere around Bastille, but we got sidelined on the way from the metro. I can't remember the name of the first place we went in but I need to find out because most of the cocktails were 5,50 euros in Happy Hour, which lasted until 9pm. Lauren recommended the Mojito In Love which we all loved and I think that's why we got hooked on mojitos. Between us we had eighteen. I don't know if that's excessive or not- there were three of us. Do English girls really drink too much? Six cocktails each doesn't seem a lot to me.

Anyway, after our lovely Mojitos In Love we went to Charlotte Bar. (If you click on the link by the way, make sure you turn your sound off, unless you want the Black Eyed Peas 'I Gotta Feeling' blaring out at you and I'm sure you don't- assuming you're not nine years old or a Bad Idiot.) Me and Lauren have been there before and je l'aime. It's small and red and they play RnB and Hip Hop really, really loud. Charlotte Bar's Happy Hour was until 10pm, so we had more mojitos and then the boss suspiciously sent us over a shot each, which I'm pretty sure they added to the bill, the sly bastards, but nothing can tarnish Charlotte Bar for me. It's FUN. (10 Rue de Lappe.)

After Charlotte Bar the Carbohydrate Monster- that creature who lives inside the Very Drunk and who will inevitably rear his chubby head towards the end of the night, asking for kebabs and chips covered in an array of disgusting sauces, finally unleashed its fury upon us and we stumbled into a restaurant, hungry for CARBS and LOTS OF THEM. We went to Bar Bat, the Corsican restaurant that we went to with Jess and her boyfriend when they were here a couple of months ago. I wasn't eating that night (I'd already had my tea; I wasn't just refusing to eat like an Anorexic) but Jess and her boyfriend's food looked nice and Oh My Goodness- I don't know if it was because we were wasted but the food was amazing.

It was really hearty and delicious, a cross between French provencal cooking and Italian food. (In my opinion, but then I think Supernoodles are nice, so you decide how much you value my opinion.) Claire had veal, Lauren had lamb and I had lasagne that had big pieces of lamb in it. At first we weren't going to get more drinks because we thought we were too drunk- Lauren thought she had lost her ablitiy to read French. But then we realised the menu was all in Corsican and that's why Lauren couldn't read it, so we ordered dishes that we didn't entirely understand, plus more mojitos. We were the last people in there but far from chasing us out with their Corisan menus, they gave us a free round of mojitos (and they really were free this time).

After the meal we got a taxi back to Lauren's and enjoyed some prop-related humour that only the Very Drunk appreciate.




















In the end, I got a good five hours sleep and today I didn't have a hangover, so it just proves that you should put Good Times above everything. In this spirit, I have decided that I am definitely going to my cousin's wedding in Serbia, even if I have to eat alphabet cake decorations all month. They're nice anyway.

And another thing...

only two sleeps...

until...

MULLETOVER!

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