Porta-Party

We missed a Princes sized hole in our group yesterday, get well soon, however, we did welcome back Charlotte from an unreasonably long hiatus, who the hell signed that off? Great to have you back mate. Matt returned for sesh numero dos - a superb addition to our squad.

After discussing developing our own Gin, aptly named GoodGin, which transpired not to be a stitch up, but a plausible reality from Jim & Tonic, we nipped out and broke the ice. "What's your favourite musical era?" We chronologically hit all the decades north of the 80's, including the 'noineties', obviously, excluding the 2020's.

Cody Dock was our destination, down a lowly-lit canal we jogged and nattered, Basia was there awaiting us in the darkness, like a punctual east london dealer. An unusual task became apparent, as Basia walked us towards the back-end of the dock, she led me into a toilet, I followed in naive trust to see curtains opening into an alternative party zone, replete with artisanal bunting, marquee style shelter, lounging areas and a lot of booze. Our job: to pack up the party. The Porta-Party.

We wheeled out fridges, packed up the silly sauce, removed the bunting, shifted the bar and remarkably managed not break or drop anything. A roaring bloody success I'd say.

Next week is The Up Garden, they want us to help with the final touches for their official opening at the end of the month. We need YOU.

Till then,

B