I’d forgotten just how brilliant a night out at Duckie can be, it’s a shame it’s so bloody far away. 2 nightbuses after a few shandies is quite a task. Three people on the lower deck of the N73 threw up, chain-chunder style, all of them appear to have been eating red cabbage and amongst the carnage floated someone’s untouched wallet and a satsuma. Hmmmmm.
At the taverns things were kept a bit more internal. Amy Lamé did some ironing, an art student posted himself through a letterbox and there was some incredible hula hoop action. The music was a great mix of predictable indie/pop/dance records, mixed in with old songs you wouldn’t ever think of playing at home but were perfect for dancing along to. I love it when DJs get over excited and start dancing along (what ever the reason) and at one point I was dancing with Will Young behind me and Justin Bond in front. An interesting prospect.