It was my friends birthday, and he'd booked a house near a beach in Cornwall, a place called Newquay. It was just like any of the other english beach towns you've ever seen. Pretty, with loads of cliffs and cold waters. It was an epic weekend - there was three nights of hard drinking, and hitting it harder and harder every night. There were drinking games, and silliness and quiet naps and skittle shots. There was a stupid amount of drinking. And there was a ridiculous amount of mayhem.
Here is how I remember it:
I remember the eight hour drive down in the back of a tiny ford focus, three girls in the back with an ipod with shitty music up the front. I remember being amazed that the three of us managed to go without a single toilet break that whole time.
I remember being stoked that I was one of two that a room all to herself, and that I was upstairs away from the mayhem, and had my own little balcony. I remember the grey skies, and how it definitely wasn't warm. It wasn't beach-y as I knew it. Apparently this was how English beaches rolled.
I remember the skittle shots, and how there were many of them. I remember visiting poundland, and getting glasses that weren't prescription, and the boys rocking pretty coloured slippers. I remember calling one of the boys a gunslinger because he had the beard, and the cowboy hat, and the attitude. I remember walking from pub to pub down the main street, and running between the many pedistrians to catch or throw a nerf ball. I remember calling 'Not Out' and 'Hooowzat?!' and having to lick it. I remember walking down the road with a bunch of enablers, and getting a surface piercing above my right hip.
I remember an epic amount of beerpong and jager shots. I remember napping + snuggles and missing half the party, only to start up a pool party of our own. I remember celebratory skittle shots everytime I sunk a ball. I remember awkward txt propositions and having to shoot them down, but not knowing how to do it in a way that wouldn't cause offense. I remember boys coming and going, and epic stories of how they got into fights. The gungslinger won one, and felt so guilty that he gave his victim his cider. Another got throughly trounced by a few bouncers that he lost his glasses + phone. We all got amusing txts that night.
I remember getting up early and going down to the beach for a hangover-cure swim. Drop the towels, and run full tilt towards the water. I remember the water being icy cold, taking my breath away every time I submersed. I remember shocking the all-bundled-up families, in their waterproof pants + parkers as we walked back to the house, completely wet in our togs. The air was warmer than the water, and it felt positively balmy.
I remember the house being a complete mess, with shot glasses and beer cans everywhere, Doritos's ground into the carpet and every conceivable surface covered in one alcohol substance or another.
I remember playing guitar hero in the arcades, and I remember the boys buying an inflatable dingy + a kite. I remember laughing as the cowboy ran up and down the beach trying to get his kite in the air, and instead it woefully dragged itself along in the sand. I remember that when it finally did get up in the air, he let it go and it got stuck on the surf club roof.
I remember blowing up the dingy and jumping in for a kip. I remember the boys carrying it down to the water (with me in it) and having someone make the clever enough suggestion to throw my phone overboard before I made it to the water. I remember being fully clothed, and falling over the side. It was cold. I remember dragging my 6ft Ginger friend into the water with me, and playing around in the surf until the lifeguards drove down and told us with their megaphone to get out of the water.
I remember getting in a Rickshaw with 5 boys, holding the boat on the top as we hurtled through town. I remember being amused as the boys walked it through the pedestrian only streets, pushing people out of the way, calling '10 Quid a Boat Ride!' as they went.
I brought one of those Newquay lifesaving hoodies to stay warm, and a friend of mine was kind enough to buy me a towel. I remember jumping in the bath with said ginger ninja, because he'd stolen the only bathroom with a working shower.
I remember drinking vanilla vodka + sprite with some Brazilians. I remember giant blow up bananas + trying to fling them through windows. I remember somehow getting good at beer pong. I remember slight drama that shouldn't have been mine to deal with, and I remember mostly trying to ignore it.
I remember Lusty Glaze beach with it's cliffs and sand, I remember rocking out two rows back from the stage to the 90s rock band Reef, and drinking Sour Apple shots + JD's + coke from a can. I remember dancing on my toes and making out in the crowd and sand fights in the tepee.
I remember sitting on the stairs with cuddly + funny drunkards who I adore. I adored them less when they started taking their clothes off. I remember cuddling up with an Australian, and going over the drama of the night just ending. I remember laughing till I cried at the 6ft ginger drunkard that kept falling off his bed, over and over again.
I remember jager shots in the kitchen, and smoke rings in the garage. I remember cuddling up with a gungslinger in a doorway, and listening to him tell me about the snow France has, and making me want to experience it for myself. I remember boys talking shit over jager shots, and cooking up jager burgers.
I remember trying to share a single bed, knowing that it was only meant for one but being glad there was another person in it with me anyway.
I remember a ridiculously cheap breakfast, and everyone being all hung over together. I remember walking through town not sure where we were going. I remember crashing out on a couch in a bar, and really not wanting to move.
I remember the really long drive home in a giant red van, with punches for every yellow car spotted and rocking out to AC/DC's Young Blood. I remember stopping in Wearne for an amazing home cooked supper, playing with the dogs + being stoked that my strawberries were still growing. I remember the gorgeous countryside, and being glad the sun was out.
I remember pulling into London, and being absolutely gutted that the weekend was over.
It was a brilliant weekend. It was mostly a boys weekend, for sure, but I enjoyed myself no end.
A Newquay Adventure. Glad that I mostly remember it.