La Rocca, the final frontier

Gay George (Not Actually Gay) has been threatening to descend on Bristol for a night of anarchy for some time and this weekend he followed through on that terrifying threat.

Of course, in the usual way, he was late (75 minutes on this occasion so quite good for him). The drinking started at a gentle canter (don’t worry it worked up to a healthy gallop later) with a quiet beer in the Coronation before they met up with Dennis, Becky, Old Speckled, BGB and his +1 at the Clifton Sausage for an early supper (Tigger having jibbed out).

Now in Gay George (Not Actually Gay)’s mind the night went something like this:

Few beers over supper in Clifton Sausage…final drink in Embargo and home (for another 4 hours of drinking).

The ellipsis covers his memory gap. Fortunately, and remarkably, your correspondent has been able to piece together the blanks from conversations with our hero. For the record they involve:

Drinking in the Albion (enlivened by a very drunk Jon who insisted on our hero smoking a cigar (he is still suffering from nicotine poisoning)), Gay George (Not Actually Gay) falling arse over tit off a wall in Victoria Park, dancing in Comfi (and by golly did the two of them trip the Light Fantastic), drinking in The Square and being refused entry to La Rocca.

Now astute students of the Bristol nightlife will be bemused at this stage by the final entry, “surely that is impossible” they will be asking themselves and, up until Saturday night, your correspondent would have been compelled to agree with them but having seen it with his own eyes he can report that it is indeed possible to be refused entry to La Rocca. Remarkable.

Discretion forbids us from also recording that Becky and Dennis were smooching outside of Embargo nor revealing that all of the, male, patrons of the bar had their faces pressed to the window to get a better look. It would also be quite wrong to reveal that he has photos.