These guys were absolutely hilarious and loved Welsh rugby, so as you can imagine, I got massively over excited, especially after Matt had been handing out the Welsh abuse all night. He even knew the Welsh anthem in French so we sang that in the middle of the bar (cringe).
Then one of the french people stole my phone saying he thought it was his. all tres bizarre- why on earth would a french person have the pile of shit phone I have? Got it back though and all was fine.
We all raced to get the last tram home, Doug (or Doog as the French say) got on his, then Bex, Lou and I got on ours for all of three stops. It was only when we were at the stop Motte Rouge on the side of the beautiful Loire that Lou had to get off because she'd vommed on the tram. Classy bird!
She then preceeded to vom over the side of the barrier on to the boats when a really geeky looking french guy started talking to us. Me in my stupid rowdy state convinced myself he was a pimp and shouted at the top of my voice that I didn't want to be a prostitute or be pimped out. WHAT. A. DICK.
Becks eventually got Lou and I away from him and we started the MISSION home. Becks took us some long winded way where we essentially walked in circles and ended up walking through a dark, scary forest, *cue my strop.*
Having been on the phone to taxi services for about an hour, using all Lou and I's credit being on hold (Nantes doesn't really do taxis) I was getting really pissy and had blisters galore, plus i had fallen over in the mud.
We dropped Becks off at her halls, had a drunken chat and got home at 3am both absolutely shattered.
As you can tell, we are not doing very well as far as adopting the elegant French female behavioral traits goes.
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