Goodbyes

This weekend was a weekend of goodbyes. Not bad goodbyes, but emotional ones nonetheless.

First off, on Friday night, we said goodbye to our local steakhouse. I’ve always said that, despite sampling fish and chips on a variety of continents, the pub at the end of my road serves the best in the world. Made even better by the fact that they also serve cocktails not to menrion that it’s stumbling distance from my bed (and i have stumbled it many, many times). I will still be able to eat the fish and chips, but now that we’re about to move out of our flat, it’ll no longer be as locals. It was a sad time when we walked out of there for the last time. From now on, we’ll be taking taxis or arguing about driving detail…

Last cocktail as locals

On Saturday, Mr G said goodbye to his twenties with the last celebratory event for his birthday (he celebrated for almost as long as me!). Twenty four of us set up camp on a large table at Zenxi and ate our fill of Chinese, drank cocktails and champagne, had a few cross words with an aggressive waiter and welcomed Mr G in to his thirties with a Sponge Bob Square Pants cake, a sparkler and a hideous cocktail of epic proportions (nice one Lucy and Neil).

The hideous cocktail from Lucy and Neil

Sponge Bob cake!

Lucy and Neil's "revenge" from the barman!

We reigned in the post-dinner drinking though, as on Sunday we said goodbye to most of our furniture, white goods, food, clothes, electronic equipment and ornaments as we packed up our flat and prepared to make ourselves homeless. This is a whole other story.

The empty lounge

We spent Sunday night sitting on our one remaining seat, with our two remaining cups, watching the telly (now propped up against the wall) and saying goodbye to Homeland as we’ll be away when the last episode is aired.  

Am feeling very, very ready for some Hellos, specifically, “Hello bedtime”…