Corrugated City

Monday, 17 March 2008

A Warm House

On Saturday we had a mini house warming and birthday party for Lorena. I say mini as quite a few people weren't able to make it but we still had 25-odd people over, mostly family and school friends from yeeeeeeaaaaars back...! It was pretty good fun. At least, what I remember was pretty good fun. After things started to chill out around 2am, we headed down to Bar La Playa, a huge old pub with an awesome, antique interior. La Playa can be hit and miss. It was most definitely miss on Saturday. We appeared to have travelled back in time to a 1980s heavy metal convention.

Anyway, here are some photos.

Lore, Dorotty & the mother.


Me. Annoying the little sister.

Karin &...let's call her 'friend'.

Family again.

Mike do I spell this?...Chatriani.

Christina & Jose Antonio.

When I was backpacking around the world, I stayed with various family friends and other people I'd never met before. Now it's me with a house in a backpacker destination and it's payback time. Jack on the left is the godson of a friend of my mums, travelling with John, a school friend. 18 years old. Man, that brings back memories...

Jose Antonio & Jorge

Olivier (told you I was going to post this photo...)

Rodrigo & Jose from the Zero Hotel -they left early to meet some girls. It wasn't a successful encounter.


Dan said...

18 years old. Man, that brings back memories.

Or at least it would if you could remember that far back.

Matt said...

Hey, what is this? I don't come on your blog and leave witty but slightly insulting comments.

At least, I didn't today.

Olivier Travers said...

I know I couldn't trust you Brit scoundrel not to post my ungroomed picture. Next time I'll shave and have a haircut before we meet up. I guess my online reputation is forever tainted now, you paparazzo you!

Also, you conveniently forgot to mention I totally dominated you at foosball.

Matt said...

Now I have to agree about the shaving and hair-cut. But the table football ...I was 200 drinks less sober than you and could barely see the ball. That's not a level playing field. Next time, I will thrash you (assuming we don't have to play your cheating French rules, of course...)