For some reason I was volunteered to help man the Irish stand at Europe day in Red Square e.g. stand around with Zac,in a stuffy marquee, holding each other up, both of us feeling a little bit worse for wear after friday's party and attempt to answer Russian's questions that ranged from 'are you really Irish?' to 'tell me about Irish dogs' to 'I want to correspond with Irish people, give me your email address' (cue blatantly fake email address) There was very slim pickins around food-wise, except for the weird nutty swissroll that I got from Hungary. We were beside France but they were making people pay for their yummy croissants, cheap ass frogs! It was all looking pretty bleak until the giant bodhrán player from the Rostov-on-Don Irish trad band (none of whom have ever set foot in Ireland but who do a very impressive version of 'Whiskey in the Jar') dragged us behind the stand and forced a shot of vodka down our necks. At 3pm. Avert your eyes Mum! We felt soo much better afterwards and were dancing around the place. I'm pretty sure one of the major signs of alcoholism is if you need alcohol the next day to feel better, oh dear!

I blame the band...