Friday 29th January -

Was making a trip to York this weekend, to see some friends and drink some beer, and managed to get away in the early afternoon - just as it started snowing...bugger. Determined to make it to my destination I drove my new car through the sleet and almost exaclty 4 hours and 20 mins later I arrived. As I walked through the door dinner was in the oven and a glass of wine appeared in my hand - I like the north!

 

The rest of the evening was spent talking, drinking and playing new/old/unheard of music and smoking menthol cigarettes by candle light. Perfect.

Saturday 30th January -

Woke up late and got introduced to 'Hunger', a tv series featuring David Bowie - quite a serious undertaking for a saturday morning (lunchtime) but decent enough to make me want to watch the rest! After copious cups of tea and outfit dilemmas we decided to finally leave the house. First stop was Vamps to reinstate my Monroe piercing which had ejected itself from my lip earlier in the week then a short walking tour around York - I had been there before but only as a child - and it's city walls and then, only because it was bitterly cold you understand, Yorks pubs.

Pivo was a dinky little bar with a huge selection of ale and after discovering they didn't have 'Trashy Blonde' on tap yet I settled for a pint of 'Equity for Punks'.

 

Then onto the Golden Slipper (I think) to be greated by one of the friendliest barmaids ever then a couple pints of Pit Pony in the Old Starr Inn where the barman was most amused by my southern accent. After a very brief rendevous with Dom, editor of Sphere Magazine, we dashed off to the Blue Bicycle for the most amazing dinner and a bottle of white. By this time we were drunk enough to know we were having a good time but not so drunk that we didn't want a few more...

After stopping at the Evil Eye Lounge earlier for smokes we tried to go back for a drink only to discover a queue outside. No British love of queueing for us so a minor detour to the Duchess which reminded me in some ways of Norwich's very own Waterfront but with nicer chairs and better beer.

After a few minutes a fella started chatting to us, borrowed a light, and told us he was in the army (uh oh) and from Essex (crikey) and could he have a threesome? (unprintable) We left him in no uncertain terms as to how we felt about his proposal and went to dance with some fellow weirdos, including Anna who ran the local goth night Darklands, and generally make a tit of ourselves.

Taxi home, a few more beers and some very loud jazz into the wee hours of the morning and my saturday was coming to an end....