Cawrk-(Cawrrrrkkkk)

This weekend consisted of one of many roadtrips that my friends and I make to go drinking and cause general mayhem in towns around the country. The lucky city this time round? Cork. Or as spelt above and pronounced by the townspeople, Cawrk.

Friday afternoon, after completing a French exam which took less than half the time allotted, we were on our way to Cork to eat, drink and be merry. Two of our number went to the Munster v. Leinster rugby match while three of us went to drink and be merry. Soon we were joined by more friends.

At this point, 9.30, the merriment truly began. After attempting and failing to “stool” one of the guys we moved from the pub, “an Bróg”, to another bar. While here I had a development in my personal life. Y’see, while we were in Cork on the Friday night, the night before I had also gone out. While out, I met the girl whom I make reference to in my latter post. I was really enjoying her company, but I was also really drunk. The next day I reviewed my actions and realised that I had probably blown it with her. Apparently I was wrong.

In Cork, while I was discussing the night before with my friends girlfriend, I received a text message from her. Surprised, I opened the message and was even more surprised by what she had to say. She was apologising for her behaviour! Strangely, I had been contemplating texting her and apologising for my actions! Life really has a way of creeping up on you and screaming in your ear. This began a number of text messages being sent back and forth, but of course, I had the help of my friends to strategically put me in the position that would most likely grant me another meeting. So, I get to call her or text her during the week for another coffee. I’ll take that!
But back to Cork, we continued our pub crawl where we all proceeded to get even drunker. We made it back to our hostel by 3 in the morning(I think) and there we continued to drink even more! Our hostels bar remained open until 4. Around that time we all retired to our room, which was more like an apartment, and played twister. Yes, drunken twister. It’s a lot of fun, I highly recommend it at your next opportunity.

I got to bed at around 5.30 in the morning. I was woken at 10.30 this morning by a slightly annoyed staff member of the hostel that wanted us to leave. We all promptly got up, dressed and left the hostel by 11. Not bad. We then went for breakfast, which was almost erotic due to our levels of hangover.

Anyway, bottom line, Cork is a great city to go out in. In this city one can discuss semantics with French people, see a band with members that are complete dicks, make ladies think your name is Conor and then get annoyed when they believe you and discuss, rather heatedly, the idea of genetic memory. Great times are to be had.

Just ignore the accent.