Pub Crawl

Pub crawls have never really been my thing. In fact, I have only ever been on one, and that ended with my friend Melanie and I, beyond our limits, dressed up as a witch and princess, stuck in West Edmonton Mall at 3am without a ride home in the blustry snow. Memorable, but not something I would like to repeat. So seven years later I figured that maybe I should see if I can't improve upon my prior experience and give it another go. Last weekend was Nikki and Ian's going away pub crawl. For two individuals who have done nearly every imaginable trip, event, attraction and show on the island, we figured we should make this a crawl to remember with a flavourful mix of ex-pat and local bars. The evening began at KPMG, where we all drove off in a 26 seater bus jam packed with restless accountants on a Friday night. It wasn't until we were a few blocks away that we realized one of the girlfriends had been forgotten... and it wasn't her boyfriend who figured it out either (he was sleeping on the couch for awhile after that). With a complete count we headed off to a bar called The Office, which was unremarkable except for the fact that we found a fast food restaurant none of us knew in the back parking lot... Cayman random. After a rum with a splash of diet coke, all 26 of us decided we should drive to a co-worker's house to rouse him out, since he had clearly told everyone he didn't want to come. We all unloaded and surrounded the premises and were finally able to lure him out. Now in an overcrowded bus we zipped out of the parking lot, cut off a bike rider who ran into the back of the bus and stalked us all the way to the next bar where he climbed on board to scream at our drive. There I ran into some kids I had taught swim lessons to, as well as a member of the gym where I work. Trying my hardest to be coherent I carried on some sort of conversation about which I have no memory. We quickly boarded the bus, where Joanna and I found a bottle of Pimms hidden in the back seat... bad news. By Merengue we were pouring out of the bus. This local bar did not live up to it's name, as the only music it played was old country and had a dance floor large enough to accommodate five bus loads of crazy accountants. The fifth bar was a pleasant surprise. A large outdoor dance floor and bar located next to the airport, playing loads of Top 40 and containing a nice mix of nationalities. We made a rather fuzzy mental note to return again. The next three bars were a complete blur, since they were all located on the very sketchy and low-income "Eastern Ave." Archie's Disco Bar, Blue Marlin and something that included the word "dump" seem like the most plausible names of these haunts. One had a goldfish tank in which several scared and deaf fish were perched upon a rickety shelf that vibrated with the music. The reggae they had been playing turned quickly to "I'm a Barbie Girl" by Aqua (apparently white girls are supposed to love it). At this stop a 15ft beer flag was stolen and hoisted on to the bus. At several of the seedy bars we were glared at by the locals sitting on their stools. However, we quickly found that the bartenders loved us and our cash and many offered us deals if we would only stay longer! The last bar of the night (well at least the last for this girl ) was Triple Crown- back in familiar territory. I am told I got up and sang a karaoke song with some girls (there is photo proof) but I can't remember which it was. At this point I told Blake it was time to leave and we began the lengthy 3 km walk back in to town, with a slight detour to a secret beach we discovered off mainstreet and a quick baseball session with a breadfruit we found on the road and a telephone pole. All in all, I can now see why I am not a pub crawl kind of girl- for the sad fact alone that I only had 5 drinks in total over a 6 hour period... but this pub crawl will hold as many memories as the last!

pictured above: breadfruit baseball, ghetto goldfish, stolen flag, bar number 2!