Saturday

I wake up early, as is often the case when I find myself the wrong side of a few beers these days. It's looking like being a nice day, and after a quick breakfast K and I head into Wood Green to do some early morning shopping before the freaks come out around lunchtime and swarm Shopping City with their unsettling, zombie-like presence. K picks up assorted little sundries in the market hall and Wilkinson's, but we soon end up at Argos to make the main purchase: a new vacuum cleaner. Our previous one died earlier in the week, and as it had been left behind by the previous tenant it was up to us to replace it, rather than the landlord. Having only lived in rented accomodation that provided vacuuming equipment (usually Henry-based, for that studenty, anthropomorphic touch), this was to be the first time I've ever actually owned one.

After finding a decent-looking bargain in the Argos book of treats, we head back home so I can give the floor a much-needed suck. Sadly, I find myself greatly enjoying the new suction power at my disposal - and manage to fill my new best friend's cylinder straight away.

Domestic delights taken care of, Nick comes round and we head out towards South London, where Mike and his girlfriend Sarah are celebrating her birthday at the Lambeth Country Fair in Brockwell Park. Not a regular traveller south of the river, it takes a little while to find the place through a combination of tubes and overground trains - but once there it seems to be a pretty major deal; closely resembling a more West Indian-influenced version of K's dad's country fair, in fact. We climb up the hill to find our friends and settle down near the sheep shearing and the owls to drink a couple of cans of cider and take in the view. Before long, K and I head off in search of the bottles of Chucklehead cider that everyone seems to be clutching, then head up to the 'main arena' to watch a rather impressive jousting show - all choreographed to the stirring tune of the Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves soundtrack.

Later we wander back down the hill and all chip in on some more Chucklehead, before the Fair finishes and we return like homing pigeons to the more comfortable surroundings of North London. We had heard about a new "rock" pub in Tufnell Park called Aces & Eights, so were determined to check it out - even as a possible engagement party venue. It's directly opposite the tube, which is handy, but seems a little short on character. It's possible that this is just because it's only newly opened, but we're not overly impressed and so take a short bus ride to Holloway Road to the more familiar, well-worn aesthetic of the mighty Big Red.

Things get hazy here - especially after Nick (the big idiot) insists on buying a round of sambucas for the assembled party (now down to four of us, including Tim). Soon, K and I are feeling worse for wear and head towards the waiting 29 via the handily-placed bakery. It's been a long time since we've been to Big Red, and it's nice to see the place in full, friendly, Saturday night flow. Even if I have, once again, left it feeling completely sick.