...if you haven't read the first part yet, you'll have to scroll down, or click here.
So, anyway, Althea and I mosied on over to Ilona's house in East Finchley together, picking up her luggage and losing my tube ticket en route. There were already several people there, and it only took less than a minute before someone said, "I know what looks different about you! The beard and all the hair has gone!" I think that was Jen, but I'm not sure. Whoever it was, it sparked a chorus of "Oh, yeah!"s.
Soon most other people had arrived and we were all getting quite merry. It was bizarre how naturally we just slipped back into the "meeting in town" routine, even though "town" in this instance was London, not Iringa. We even went out for a curry. Except, the service was just ever so slightly quicker. Just as well, because I'm not sure how they would have taken us disappearing off to the pub, saying, "Come and get us when it's ready."
Unfortunately, Belinda couldn't join us that night, because she went to another party first, and her "selfish friend" was vomiting everywhere, or so she recounted it in her apologetic text message. When we arrived back at the house, we lauched into a game of Guess Who with gusto. You know, the game where you stick post-it notes with names on on everyone's foreheads and they all have to guess who they are. I was someone off the telly, but I can't remember who.
Much of the evening was spent discussing the possibility of skiving the debrief on Sunday, including Jen's oft-repeated doom-laden predictions of all the role-plays we would have to perform. So, when we got up in the morning, the twelve of us didn't manage the morning showers and breakfast quite so efficiently as we might have done, and we turned up in Westminster just over an hour late. Although, to be fair, this lack of punctuality could simply be blamed on our relapsing back into "African Time".
It was surprisingly difficult to abate Jen's smugness at being right about the role-plays, even when we explained to her that she was wrong, because several of the groups prepared dramas, which are an entirely different animal (and I still stand by that position).
We were supposed to prepare something to explain how our programme fitted in with the whole SPW ethos, as well as to demonstrate what made our programme different. Unfortunately, we didn't have much time, as we were late, and there were too many of us to organise ourselves properly. However, we managed to pen an SPW version of "The 12 Days of Christmas", both making it a bit interesting and looking like complete twits in one fell swoop.
As the day passed, it became more and more tedious, although it was nice to see everyone, and meet people we'd only briefly encountered on previous information/briefing days in London. Nick had now joined us, as had Belinda, who nobody initially recognised on account of her markedly different hairstyle (when she came to the door when we arrived we thought she was a member of staff coming to tick us off for being late).
By half past three, we were well and truly ready for the pub. Shame, because we didn't make it there until gone half four. This all brought back memories of going to the pizza place and taunting David Blane in his box last October, so it was a very happy time. And also quite merry. And, when the time came to go and get my train, I didn't bother, electing instead to stay in London one more night, and ring work in the morning.
Ilona took those of us who hadn't yet left the pub to a nice restaurant called Zizi's, and we all got stuffed. Then we went to the pub again, until people had slowly drifted off, and only Ilona, Jen, Althea, Elin and I were remaining. Then we went back to Ilona's, and sat up for a bit, looking at more photos.
In the morning, I called work and told them I would be late. They were well chuffed, I could tell. Jen and I headed off together and got a train from Paddington, so from Bristol onwards my weekend of fun and debauchery had effectively ended.
When I got back to Exeter, I grabbed a pasty for lunch and went in Past Times, buying the first thing I saw for Secret Santa. Strangely, it was quite a good present, so I got something quite good at the last minute, after several unsuccessful weeks of vaguely looking around. It was a small selection of brandy butter, cranberry sauce and something else.
I didn't go to the Christmas dinner with work on Monday evening, as I was a bit ****ed after the weekend (I'll leave you to insert your own expletive of choice). So, I got my Secret Santa on Tuesday morning. It was, as suspected, from the same person as I bought for (Jill). When she picked the name out, she had said, "Oh, that's not fair, why do I get that one?!" (I'm the only bloke in the office, and I had only just started there) and then glanced nervously across at me. Very nice present though, some chocolate coins and Baileys minis. Can't complain since, quite frankly, it was better than what I had bought for her.
Well, that was the end of the weekend. Tiring, but thoroughly enjoyable.
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