The last time I went away with my Essex faithful was Zante 2008, a debauched affair which may or may not have featured one member’s encounter with a transvestite in the sea. Our trip to Disney Land in 2014 was bound to be less riskay, considering we were surrounded by children. But Paris is Paris, and Essex is Essex, combine those two worlds and Mickey Mouse is in for a treat. What we didn’t factor in was that chief organiser and Disney marketing guru Sam would break her leg a few days before we left:
Quel désastre! But not to fear mes amis. With the spirit of the nations’ ‘98 World Cup winners (but not that of the French revolution), team work prevailed to ensure hot wheels would roll her way to a bloody good weekend away. So when we ventured out for a 3 course French feast on our first night, we chose Le Marais, a beautiful part of the city wheely close to lots of lovely bars and clubs. Turns out our friends over the channel are also partial to a Margarita, so there was only one thing for it:
… but wait one moment, Monseiur! It seems you have served me this glorious libation in a kahari bowl instead of the traditionally triangular variety! And what an earth is this straw? Shall I expect the consistency of an Oreo milkshake? Was Boris Johnson’s haircut your inspiration when unevenly applying my salt? Non? Fromage? JE SUIS FURIOUS. One shoe Sam, get a hop on, we’re out of here.
Margarita & I 