So it took me a week to digest/decompress from my Chelmsford trip.
First up. Trabb review was very OTT by yours truly. I could have been wearing Ascot high tops and no one would have batted an eyelid.
The night was a shambles. Started off OK meeting all my old mates in The Ship, but soon descended into carnage. One mate had some contraband that he duly necked as the reciprocal broke, meaning it was all or nothing……he took the all option at 4pm and the pictures aren’t pretty. Not a good look for a 55yr old.
Another mate collapsed in the club and lay on his back on a sofa for about 20 min motionless. Thought he was dead and me and a mate were trying to find a pulse for about 3 mins telling each other we thought he was brown bread. Ended up one of the birds slapped the silly cnut round the face and he came to. That was the catalyst for our “out of town” crew to start disappearing as the locals were not looking on with approval.
The Basement had the worst sound system ive ever heard. Even Mrs IS commented on its shiteness. Good to see the venue used up the last remnants of World Dance’s UV paint to adorn its lovely black walls.
Thought we’d round the night off with a Duke St chicken shish, which transpired to be “deconstructed” with the pitta all cut up on the side and no hot sauce to be seen…….sacrilege. The Kebabary ( a 90s Duke St staple) would have been turning in its grave.
Sunday had a walk round the old place hungover and made a sharp exit back to middle earth.
An experience it was
