The whole of last week seemed to drag and Friday lasted forever. My excitement for the upcoming weekend was similar to my daughters infectious good mood when she knows Christmas is coming. I was chirpy, to the point of giggly, I was tense, I was anxious, but I mostly I was over whelming desperate for the weekend to start.
I spent the weekend in the sophisticated town of Stratford.
Surrounding me at all times were friends I am not fortunate enough to see on a regular basis, but friends I have loved a very long time. These were the people who I met when I was 18, who I grew up with, drank tequilla with, played on the beach at midnight with. They are my University group, a mix of boys and girls, and now wives and partners, they are an incredibly special bunch of friends.
Please note: when I say special I mean it in the loving meaning of the word, however at 2am on Saturday night, I think special may have applied somewhat differently.
The sun shone us as we greeted each other with hugs and smiles, and seconds ate up the years that have passed since we saw some parts of the group last. News was shared, laughing was heard, old jokes reared their head, nicknames long since spoken were quickly brought back. My face ached from grinning.
We talked about the old days, about living in a huge house all together, we shared memories that we thought we had forgotten, and most of us drank through the chatting.
It was like wrapping myself in a huge comfort blanket, everywhere I looked I saw faces that warmed me, heard voices that I didn’t realise I had missed until they were firmly back in my life.
My excitement only grew as our day continued.
We ‘cruised’ up the Avon, on the shortest boat trip known to man. We ate, drank and were very merry. One of us thought it appropriate to bring jager bombs into the party. All of us regretted them this morning when the headaches kicked in.
The evening went from good food, to silly drinks and eventually led us to a dance floor. Those of us left standing showed Stratford how to get down and boogie by throwing moves on the dance floor that haven’t been seen since the nineties. One of us may have fallen head first into the VIP lounge – but I am sure it was because the floor was slippy rather than the drink excessive……
We have all aged, we have jobs, kids, real life to get back to. But this morning no one started to rush away, it was like we all wanted to hold the good times a little longer. We walked, we drank water, tea, coffee, smoothies and shakes, we heard the geese on the Avon squabble like Montagues and Capulets. The sun shone and the day felt perfect, even with the slight banging in our heads.
We eventually said goodbye.
I feel lucky, I have sat tonight and snorted at photos that show a night of laughing, dancing and fantastic fun. I have a lovely bunch of amazing friends. I wanted to write it all down, because this post is for me, this is my memory.
And it is a good one.
Sounds like a wonderful weekend!! Jager bombs always seem like a good idea…..lol Always regret them in the morning though x
Very much so x
I obviously need to get out more… I don’t know what a Jager Bomb is…. perhaps that’s a good thing?
That is a good thing!
It might be for you but it’s still a lovely post to share. I am lucky to have very old and good friends from school days and uni – it’s an effort to meet up nowadays but an effort well worth making x
Very very true!