Mark's 30th birthday

16th March 2013

Various pubs, Leeds

And so it began.  The devilish-eyed cad, Marcus Barlow, aka theboybarlow, aka tbb, had finally turned 30 years of age on this actual day on which many convened for the mass consumption of alcohol throughout.  My compact digital camera, which sat uneasily amongst the state-of-the-art smartphones, captured in this shot the misleading backdrop of books, a complete misrepresentation of the intellectual quality of the day itself.

The choice of first venue was the Friends Of Ham (their first choice ahead of Enemies Of Pigs), in which thirds of pints (tasters of various beers) were consumed, or even sixths if they were shared.  We also had boards (not quite) full of cheese, meat, bread, etc. plus some gigantic scotch eggs.  All good sustenance, of course, in advance of the adventures ahead.  I found two obliging posers, i.e. those willing to pose, in Nick and Mark.

Next up, The Brewery Tap which, as FoH, is near Leeds station (convenient for train travellers such as I).  We crammed round a single table and had a quick drink here.  Evidently some sort of schedule was beginning to kick in.  Nick's short-lived career as pub doorway model was over, but Mark persisted.

Our third venue was the Adelphi Hotel, where we picked up a few more random people (ok, not random really, just I don't know them).  I now had no-one to pose for me.  Such a shame.  (Although I tend not to include people in these shots normally - they probably just got in the way in retrospect.)

The toilets had this sort of stuff on the wall.  I love a bit of geometry while I pee.

One of Mark's friends had purchased him a betting slip for his birthday, with a sequence of football results predicted which could net him some worthwhile coinage should it prove prophetic.  (I don't think he did win, so basically he got him as much as I did...)

We moved on to Pin, where we caught the end of Italy vs Ireland (which had been playing in the Adelphi, but round the corner out of our sight).  Italy clung on for a win, capping a relatively good tournament for them.  After a while, it was time for some to move on, whilst some stayed behind to watch Wales vs England, the championship decider.  I'm not sure where Mark went actually, come to think of it.

They didn't seem to know exactly what the plan was at this point, but they did disappear eventually.  Apparently they went to the Angel and then the Swan.

Katie and Adam were two of those who stayed, although given that they were facing the opposite way to the big screens, they can't have taken too much of an interest in the rugby, and probably just valued the comfy seats.

At this point, there was all to play for, as England were 9-3 down to Wales early in the second half, which basically put the points difference on a non-literal knife edge.  Alas, Wales then proceeded to dominate, helped by a combination of favourable refereeing and non-existent English defence, such that the result was, not only never in doubt, but also a complete humiliation.  Well, that was worth staying behind for.  Almost like detention as it turned out.

And, belatedly, this is where we were when we watched (ooh, what an alliteration) the rugby.

Akbar's was booked for 7.30pm (or so), with the numbers having to be extended due to popular demand (or Mark's pessimism).  A good curry was had, but someone decided it was a great idea to provide him with a cocktail of spirits, which he duly (read: foolishly) downed, which somewhat scuppered his outlook in the short term.  Here he is having a quick nap, which may or may not be a feature of the remaining photographs (it is).

Mark appears to have aged about 10 years in 20 minutes, which I think is a lesson for all budding alcoholics out there.  Don't do it.

He still found the time, though, to sleep through a fireworks display on the table in front of him.

As well as reluctantly mess around with an ice-cream wafer.

At one point he more or less tried to put the entire lot of ice-cream in his mouth in one go, which ended in inevitable failure.  There was much interest in all this, but my favourite aspect of this is the litany of Cobra bottles littering the table.  (I was torn between 'litany' and 'myriad', but "litany ... littering" was too good to pass up, even if "Cobra bottles" kills the flow - "litany of lager littering" perhaps.  If only we were drinking Labatts.)

This is how a drunk navigates the stairs.  I think this is at the Sela Bar, or it could be on the way up to Mojo (in which case there are no photos of Cellar Bar).  It's very red - based on the décor later, it is perhaps Mojo.  Mark later confirms it is in fact Sela Bar  (including the annoying phonetic spelling).  Hold on tight, young man, hold on.

I think is where Mark insisted on taking my camera and, indeed, a photo.  This is in Mojo, as can be deduced from the presence of a Cusquena in my hand.  There is a varying scale of genuine attempts at a smile going on here.

Hmmm, and again.  In fact, it's just me who is ruining this one.  Perhaps for the best otherwise it would be a bit cloying.

There's still someone having it large, or pretending to sing into his bottle.  Or both.

Mark showed an inordinate level of fascination and awe at the "phenomenon" that was 22 minutes past 10.  In the evening.  It was deemed worthy of a photo anyway.

Umm, this is Dave and Katie, one more interested in smiling at the camera than the other.

I can only presume that a song he liked was being played on the music system.  Mark spent approximately 87% of the night post-cocktail with his eyes closed.  Quite remarkable.

After a little while downstairs at Mojo, we headed upstairs, where there was more room and bright red seatage.  Mark seems only marginally more in control of his senses than his beer (which has lots of head).

Is some dancing action going on between Mark and Adam, or Adam is seriously eyeing up Mark's (well-shaken) beer.

In order to make the evening more exciting, we seem to have gone for multiple levels, with Mark stood on the table and Katie dancing on the floor.

It was getting late...

...but not late enough for some wall-based gravity re-calibration.  Otherwise I have absolutely no idea what is going on here.

And that was that.  Some of us headed back, some others stayed out.  Some met for lunch the next day.  And Mark had to endure a decade being in his 30s.

The end.

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