As soon as we arrived we headed into the village to try the local ales. I couldn't help but feel like a total outsider as we walked up the tiny high street. Was this village that tiny that they knew when there was a new person in town? Now living in Leeds I wasn't used to having an identity other than "student", "art student" if I was lucky. We settled down into Becki's local, where she seemed to know everyone. Jenny and myself decided to try the still cider "Old Rosie" unaware of the percent, which would later take its toll on us. All I can say is that it was delicious but if I had had more than one I would most certainly have been carried home moments later.
We did eventually decide to head back and get ready for the evenings events. Becki's party in a prison, yes, that's right, a prison. Becki had hired the gentleman's club of a prison where the convicts were going to be the bar staff (or so we had all presumed). I have to admit I was pretty excited about the idea of a prison party, even after Jenny had tricked me into thinking red lipstick was a good fashion choice for the night. I don't recommend it being as pale as I am, it also requires you running to the toilet every five minutes to check it hasn't smudged all over your face. If only I'd known this before leaving the house...We headed for the coach taking us to the party with wine in hand, it was about 7PM but it felt about 10PM, the downside of drinking still cider at 4PM. We arrived at the prison, not to be greeted with armed guards and a barbed wire wall but a quaint village hall. And not a criminal in sight, might I add. We quickly got into the party spirit, grabbing a drink and hitting the dance floor to dance non stop for five hours to every RnB classic. Not normally a fan I still somehow found I knew most of the words to every song. After trying Tequila Rose and breaking my camera (not related) I knew it was time to head home. Again it was back to the coach to reminisce about the evenings antics. I only managed to stay awake for another hour and swiftly headed to the futon for some well deserved sleep.
The next morning, feeling rather fragile, I headed into Bristol centre to meet my old friend Emily. We'd met when we were about 15 and had been friends ever since. She moved to Bristol two years ago and with me being in Leeds it was hard for us to see each other. The excitement of seeing her kept my hangover at bay. We went to "Rockatilla" for the most amazing milkshakes, probably not the best thing for a sensitive stomach really, but none the less I drank it. I had an amazing morning catching up and taking in the sights of Bristol, which is beautiful for those of you who have never been. I got back to Becki's at about half four and by this time I was highly emotional and all I wanted was to curl up with my boyfriend and sleep. And I did (minus the boyfriend part). I spent the rest of the evening watching BBC 1 on the sofa with Becki's mum, it was more than delightful. I awoke on the Sunday feeling fully refreshed and ready for the day ahead. My hangover had finally passed. We trecked (by car) to the top of Wotton hill in the glorious sunshine and gazed out over the beautiful countryside. It was at that point that I wished I had my camera most. It was incredible up there, and so silent. I have never heard such silence in my life. 
After basking in the sun we drove to Dursley (I am told this village is meant to be horrible and that is why J.K Rowling named her horrible family in Harry Potter after it). We settled down in a quaint pub to drink real ale, only half a pint of course. There were dogs sitting by the fire and Old boys all wearing their ties. It was amazing, I felt like I had walked into another era. I could see the appeal now for living in the country, all the fresh air and greenery. Being a city girl however I'm not quite ready to give up my Oyster card just yet.
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