Cluck Cluck! Here Come The Hens!
Phew! What a weekend! As I sit here half a stone heavier and covered in war wounds, I can honestly say I’ve never enjoyed any two day period more in my entire life – and I’ve been to Disneyland! I’ve been stripped at, thrown around a field, dabbled in cocktail chemistry and experienced the stock exchange all in one weekend. It was my hen party girls, and I had an absolute ball.
Of course I knew it would be fun. I’m lucky enough to have a sister and a group of friends whose idea of a good hen party doesn’t involve a dignified tea party. But oh my, I didn’t know how much fun it would be. We started off meeting our bus in Letterkenny at 10am. My sister had made sure I was perfectly adorned in white with the obligatory veil. We were set! My sister in law to be had made me the most amazing hen party survival hamper which I had propped on my knee as we set off to who knew where? Everyone except me that’s who!
The craic on the bus was mighty and it seemed like only seconds until we were in the gap and pulling in for the traditional stop at Biddy’s O’Barnes. After a quick round there, courtesy of the ever lovely Mr Brady we were off again on our magical mystery tour! Our journey included a stop at Knock airport for a very emotional and high-pitched prosecco sponsored reunion with two of my friends who had flown in from the UK for the occasion and then it was back to the bus. Soon, I realised where we were headed – the beautiful Galway. Delighted!!
Once we arrived at our digs, there was time for a quick bit to eat, yet another glass of prosecco and then…bubble soccer. For those of you who have never tried it, bubble soccer involves putting oneself almost entirely inside an inflatable ball and then attempting to play soccer. Sober, I’d say it’s a load of craic, but I do confess to having one or two shandys that day and let’s just say my coordination was…challenged. I fell over when someone brushed by me, I fell over when someone looked at me; sometimes I even fell over when a gust of wind came. Being honest, I think I just wanted a wee lie down.
That evening’s theme was ugly bridesmaids and my God did my girls deliver. Looking comically ridiculous, we set off for town, stopping to pose for several photographs with tourists along the way. That night was a haze of dancing and laughing and waaay too much prosecco and I loved every minute.
Saturday started off a more subdued affair, I think a few of us might have eaten dodgy kebabs. Two more friends arrived and with them brought fresh life into our little delicate group. Also bringing fresh life and fresh alcohol was a lovely young man who, bless his cotton socks, attempted to teach us how to make cocktails. Suddenly, as if by magic, we were all feeling better and were ready for our beautiful evening meal.
Yes, it was all very civilised and respectful. Our party of eleven spoke about politics and world issues. Then, a fireman arrived and asked me to take off his underpants and the class just got up and walked out the door. I will speak no more of that fireman.
That night, we partied in rock bar, a disco ball, in the street and finally back in our apartment. The laughs were such that I actually did experience rib pain in the days that followed. On Sunday, leaving Galway in one slightly altered piece, we journeyed home like heroines, no one brave enough to start a conversation in case one of the others kept it going. I cannot speak for the others but I can liken the sensation to feeling that one’s brain is too big for ones skull.
So, it’s now a few days later and I am still reeling from the brilliance of the weekend. My bridesmaids and hens did me prouder than I could have thought possible – especially seeing as I at one point thought I was “not a hen party kind of girl”. I enjoyed myself immensely and cannot wait to do it again next year. Wait, what? I only get one?? Raging. Bring on the wedding so – only 9 weeks to go!