The Landlady has a night to remember

I am writing this column on the return flight from a week in Portugal, which has been eventful to say the very least and climaxed with a late night dash to hospital. The Small Daughter and I spent the week in a very flashy villa with friends of ours from Brighton.

There were 12 of us in all ranging in age from nine to 54, eight girls and four boys – two of whom were identical twins. On our second to last night, the older people – i.e. those over the age of 15, decided that a night out in Lisbon would be a good idea. It commenced with a great deal of wine drinking in the villa, and by the time the taxis came to collect us to take us to the ferry terminal at 10.30pm, two of the grown-ups had already had a row, meaning one of them refused to come out. With our numbers depleted to seven, we drank our way to the Bairro Alto, which is the party area in Lisbon. It requires a lot of uphill walking in order to get there, but at least you can roll down the hill on the way home.

“It passed the time until the first ferry left at 6.05am”

My favourite Lisbon bar is called Portas Largas (big doors) and serves similarly sized drinks. After a pint and a half of mojito and a lot of dancing, two of the other members of our party had a row and a random man had thrown-up on the 17-year-old’s legs. The 15-year-old, fairly inebriated, sat down in the middle of the road, so one of the more responsible members of our party decided to take her home, leaving me with the twins and one of their girlfriends (aged 22) and 17-year-old M, who is a girl probably more sensible than all the adults put together. The five of us staggered to a nightcluband continued to behave irresponsibly until 5am. By this time, the twins had fallen out and were almost coming to blows all the way to the ferry terminal, which at least passed the time until the first ferry left at 6.05am. Fortunately, on the ferry the twins were hugging each other. Alas, when we reached the villa at 7am, we were locked out and one of the twins had to break in through the window.

The following night, the magnificent seven were a little jaded, so it was not ideal when the lovely girlfriend of one of the twins got a fishbone wedged in her throat at the local restaurant. Being a stoic Northerner, she managed to keep calm until the paramedics arrived and took her to hospital along with one of the more sensible adults. The fishbone was removed and the patient managed to get back from the hospital to the villa before the remaining ten of us had even managed to pay the bill and walk home. She was proudly brandishing the 2cm fishbone that had been removed from her throat in a small plastic pot. Now that’s what I call a holiday souvenir.

Illustration: Jake McDonald www.shakeyillustrations.blogspot.com