Toast on the Coast

Backdated post.

It took until the afternoon to sweat all the booze out of my system from the previous night in Surfers. The night started out innocently enough. A bunch of us at the Surf n' Sun paid our $5 for all-you-can-drink punch, a nightclub admission, and a couple of free cocktails.

We mingled around the pool, drank punch from a bucket large enough to put down several horses, met various backpackers, then a few hours later, hit Melba's nightclub. At that point, it just about became my birthday, so the steady stream of birthday drinks and dances started. No beer or wine was consumed, so you can imagine the consequences of a series of shots, JD & Coke, shots, JD & Coke [repeat ad drunken]. My main partner in crime was Matt, a guy I met on the hostel shuttle who was also from California, but when he took off, it was me, a few $10 shakers of some hideous cocktail, and a collection of red cards that would make Vinnie Jones blush.

By the time I left, the sun was up, and the only other backpacker left was Anisa from Finland, who had disappeared to the VIP room for much of the night. We made the walk of shame back to the Surf n' Sun, where I was able to get in a few hours of sleep before having to check out and catch the train back to Brisbane. Luckily, knowing what had transpired the night before, they were very understanding about the late checkout.