Mahinda’s Little World

Last weekend proved to be a bit of a monster…

Sheffield Beer Festival

This one’s a bit of a regular get-together for my vaguely ex-uni CAMRA mates, e.g. Dave, Tom, Katy, Ed and Andrea.

This year, it handily fell on Dave’s birthday…so I just had to pop along on the Friday night. I was originally going to wimp out (see rest of weekend, below)…until I found out that the last train back from The Sheff was the 00:13 - GENIUS!

Katy and Rick kindly offered me a lift from work to Sheffield, and a very handy lift it was too, as I was knackered. We eventually found the Novotel (where they were staying) and got a taxi to the festival, which was at its regular home of St. Phillips Social Club, on Netherthorpe Road I believe.

So, the Sheffield Beer Festival. We got in, the bloke on the door telling me that students and CAMRA got discounts…I told him that I certainly wasn’t a student, and he replied that I should bloody well sign up for CAMRA then. I decided against pointing out that I’ve been a member since the 2000 Sheffield fest.

Anyway, we collect our glasses and programmes, and I head straight towards the tokens stand. It wasn’t until that I heard Rick and Katy shouting "Mahinda, you’re famous!" behind me that I realised that something was amiss - my picture was only on the front cover of the programme!

You know you’re an alcoholic when…

It’s a pic that Rob (Sheffield branch stalwart) had taken of me and Verity, in the beer garden of Bar Fringe, after the 2005 Winter Ales Fest in MancLand. I look very very drunk (because I was), and the picture had been expanded to fit…making me look fat as well.

Much beer was had, with Acorn Darkness, Thornbridge St. Petersburg Imperial Stout being the two stand-outs. I had a nice half of Sarah Hughes Dark Ruby Mild too, for old time’s sake.

It being Wee Dave’s birthday (he turned up a bit after us with Kate, his girlfriend - the others were due on Saturday, unfortunately), Katy and I did the now-traditional "buy Dave some nasty cider".

This time, we got him this concoction:

1. Take one (1) pint pot.
2. Fill roughly a third-full of sweet cider.
3. Add a third pint of medium/strong cider.
4. Top up with the nastiest, driest, strongest, most evil cider you can find. In this case, very nasty, very dry and very evil

He drank it, and was looking a bit green afterwards!

We got in touch with Tom and Amy, who were in the Fat Cat, a rather fine establishment, and walked over to join them…only to find that they’d just left. Bugger. Unfortunately, it was absolutely jam-packed, so we adjourned to the Kelham Island Tavern, just around the corner (literally) for a couple of very tasty beers.

Unfortunately, it was then time for me to be off, so Rick, Katy and I hopped in a cab bound for the city centre, where I was dropped off at the train station.

The journey home was lightened by a girl called Sally, with whom I got talking while waiting for the train. She was (and is) a 2nd year student in Sheffield, going out with a 1st year at Manc…who hadn’t discovered how to get between Grosvenor halls and Piccadilly train station. I left her waiting in the foyer…hope he found her!

Yet Another Wedding

Awoke far too early on Saturday morning, as it was the day of Becky and Paul’s wedding.

Jon Hunter picked me up and ferried me (along with Ros and Ciaran) to Wilmslow, for what turned out to be a good long Catholic service in a lovely little church.

It was nice to see some people I’d not seen in a while, especially Pete and Wendy, whose wedding I’d missed in late August. After the usual "are we with the bride or groom?" discussion, we plumped for the side that looked emptier…but then filled up. Hope Becky wasn’t too miffed.

After the ceremony, it was off out to a big country hall in the wilds of deepest darkest Cheshire for the reception. Once we’d negotiated the windy lanes and sheep-related delays, that is.

Becky in a Big White Dress. Well, ivory, but close enough. If I’d had to vote for "girl least likely to be seen in a Big White Dress", she’d been on my shortlist! She looked fabulous in it, though.

The reception was fun. We MUGSS types pretty much had two tables to ourselves - well, it was two tables to ourselves, as the one interloper didn’t turn up to the reception. Odd, actually - it’s a girl called Sarah who used to live with Becky, and whom I’d met at a few parties. She was at the church, but I didn’t get the chance to say hello.

So, much banter, much drink, and a very tasty meal. I ended up sitting between Tall Sarah and Gill (who supplied the photos), which was nice.

I organised a sweepstake for the length of the Best Man’s speech. Common wisdom suggests 8-10 minutes, and we had guesses between 5:41 and 12:34. I came in at something like 9:20..only to be severely wrong as the speech came in at a paltry 5 minutes and 20 seconds. Rubbish!

Decent speech, mind, just a tad short.

Next up, the post-dinner ceilidh, featuring Isabella and I stripping the willow with enthusiasm bordering on the violent. Much fun.

And then home, courtesy of the HunterBus again.

UPDATE: Many many more photos available on Jon "Camera Whore" Hunter’s site.

Cocktails

It’s 12:40am, you’ve just got home from a wedding, a bit drunk, so what do you do?

That’s right - go to a house party

In this case, Jo’s cocktail party, full of MADwalker types. I’d found Housemates Gillian and Paul in our living room, up drinking with Erica, a friend of Gillian, and convinced them that they should come along too.

As usual, the party was ace - Jo puts on SERIOUSLY good parties - with vast quantities of random alcohol. A few random connections, too, as Gillian found Andy B (one of the walkers), who actually turns out to be a high-ranking type at her workplace.

We drank and talked and danced until 5.30am (4am in the case of Paul and Erica). Top stuff!

When Gillian and I left, I think it was down to about half a dozen revellers. I really must do something about my inability to leave parties.

Walked home, where Gillian fed me some leftovers - cold Yorkshire pud (it had been the "hole" to accompany a batch of "toads") dipped into cold Bisto gravy. Perfect!

Big Chimp

9.30am. Dragged myself out of bed, after less than three hours’ sleep.

10.10am. Left house to pick up Jo and Ed.

10.40am. Got to Knott Bar, where we were all meeting to film some scenes for Big Chimp.

Big Chimp. Another Foiled Productions film. I honestly have no idea of the overall plot, except that it’s a King Kong spoof. Complete with Barney the Dinosaur and Big Chimpess.

The last (and only) Foiled film I’d previously experienced first-hand was The Sinister Dr. Stone - I blogged a summary of the day here.

Anyway, we were all being "pedestrian" extras - running around in Castlefield screaming, basically, while Henry pointed a camera at us. I got to fall down some steps too, which was nice.

Howell, Henry and the main cast had been there since silly o’clock - fortunately, those that had been at the party had left good and early. Having heard so much about the project for the last month (I was kept in the loop for casting, props, etc.), it was great to finally see people in costume.

Eventually, Henry decreed that there’d been enough running around, and had got all the close-ups he needed. Lunch!

We headed over to Dimitri’s for tapas, somewhat groggy-headed in my case. Unfortunately, general confusion reigned, and it was decided that those of us needed for the afternoon’s filming wouldn’t have time.

So, I organised pizzas and headed off, with Jo and Sarah, towards the bright lights of Withington and West Didsbury. We were being act audition panellists, in much the same style as Simon Cowell and his X-Factor cohorts.

I dropped the girls off to get changed, ordered a large stack of pizza, got changed myself, picked up the girls and pizza, and eventually got over the theatre without being too late.

We were filming the theatre scenes at the Cheadle Hulme Amateur Dramatics Society (CHADS) theatre - a lovely little (150 or so seats) theatre out in deepest darkest Cheadle. Looks like an old theatre that had had its auditorium and general front bits done up nicely…much like a considerably smaller version of the Alty Garrick.

My hangover was really starting to kick in by this point, while Jo was very broken indeed - as expected really because, as last night’s party hostess, she would have been up even later than me!

I won’t spoil it for you and tell you what happens. Suffice to say that it should be quite a fun little film.

Any film that lists "Bat Wrangler" as one of its crew MUST be good

All very different from Dr. Stone, which was a one-room (Howell’s living room, in fact) affair, featuring lots of close-up indoor shooting, re-shooting scenes from different angles, etc. This was mostly outdoor, and generally one-scene-one-camera-angle. It seemed less technical, but then it’s an all-action romp rather than a sinister and atmospheric tale.

We eventually finished around 3/4pm, so I finally got to go home and sleep. Phew!