ARC Rally Start Preparations the Moonstruck III way
Moonstruck III
Gordon Lawson
Wed 24 Nov 2021 15:44
ARC Rally Start Preparations on Moonstruck III
Saturday night and day before the Rally starts, the Moonstruck crew and associated land support crew go to a nice restaurant in town and the wine begins to flow. Chat becomes more lively and more wine is ordered. Some of the crew switch to 8wine and I decide the fate of most of a bottle of very tasty local white wine... whilst unknowingly whilst it seals my fate. A complimentary Lemoncello downed in one thanks to the drinkng-song chants of the Moonstruck shore-based crew I fear also played a role here too. Gemma and Prudence you know what you did! The bill is settled and folks discuss their intentions for the rest of the evening. Most head home, alas the wine had made me thirsty... Gordon suggests that go to the Irish bar for a drink... A claxon rings in my head... "Just for one"... was the reassurance. I'm guessing the claxon had been reflected on my face. Yes, I know... Looking back it's obvious the outcome here.
I'm already passed my normal wine allocation but a send off with a nice drop of rum can't hurt... so long as it's just one. We arrive at the Irish bar a short while later. After enquiring of the rums available, it turns out that there's a bottle of 15 year aged Rum on the shelf and no more discussion that a single nod two are ordered. Well without tasting notes let's just say it was magic. The chat continues and the atmosphere in the bar is lively, it's definitely too early to leave. Inevitably some might say, another Rum is ordered. You can tell it's the good stuff when it's not a free-poured like the other spirits in the bar. Chat continues and Kareoke starts, singing and chat continues. The bar-tender speaks some English and points at a bottle of 23 year aged rum. Like red rag to a bull two are ordered and the night continues. Sometime through the next round I realise I'm in the cart. I am hungry... "Food" I shout, "I need food". I have no idea of the time at this point, the taxi queue was slow, after finding it first before food I elected to get food at home. I got in the cab and like something out of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas watched myself unable to converse, first I tried in my terrible Spanish. How could such a beautiful language sound like a braying donkey... Just add enough alcohol. Oh no, I am now one of "those" British tourists. After some lateral thinking, I remembered that I lived near Ikea. Problem solved!
Problems begun...