“What happens in Manchester, stays in Manchester”, said uhm… no-one, well maybe my mates and I.
It’s one of those famous quotes right, however my bachelor party did not turn out into some Hangover movie where we wake up with a tiger in the hotel room.
Would have been rather awesome though, right Shere-Khan?!
I had the pleasure of spending my bachelor weekend in Manchester, a nostalgic place for me where I spent some amazing time during my studies almost 9 years ago.
Damn, I am getting old quickly!
It however did not start as I would have liked or with the correct amount of people and considering the size of the group that was disappointing at first, but the result showed that the amount of friends does not matter at all. More on that in a bit.
Bachelor parties mostly get associated with large groups of 10-15 pissed up drunken lads who at some point in the night cannot distinguish men from women anymore….that can lead to some awkward surprises at the hotel room. And maybe some of you bachelors actually do have 10 or 15 best friends that you would wish to share your stag do with. I, on the other hand, do not have 10 or 15 best friends, and I am glad I do not.
I have met a lot of people in my life, through studying, travel, work and sports and along the way lost a lot of friends.
Or at least that is what I thought they were.
I am far from perfect but at least am man enough to admit when I am wrong. That cannot be said about a lot of people who do not handle honesty and self-reflection very well.
So for my bachelor party I had set out to rummage through the bustling nightlife of Manchester with a group of 6 lads. Two of them are my best men at the wedding, (to protect their privacy I will call them Rasta and Caesar). Unfortunately three other mates could not make it, but as I mentioned I do not need a large group to enjoy myself. (No I am not referring to orgies)
Rasta and Caesar, two of my closest mates and crazy in their own unique ways have given me a weekend to remember and made it a fun and special time. Apart from the ending where our flight home was cancelled, but hey, shit happens.
I want to thank all the lads again for the organisation and planning of this great weekend and will treasure this memory.
Fun, Fun, Fun
After arriving by plane and checking into the hotel we immediately drove to activity number one: karting! With the help of some polo shirts customised to me as The Groom with nr 69, Rasta as Bundilero, nr 21 and Caesar as Young Caesar, nr 57. So you probably are wondering why the rather random numbers on the back? They are sex positions…yeah..nuff said!
Oh yes I love karting, racing, competition, love it all! My mate Rasta was apparently Michael Schumacher’s long lost son, as he outraced us all with ease. As all go-karts have the same amount of power, I noticed that apart from my only average driving skills, my weight was also not helping me. Oh well at least I came 2nd in the first heat.
After a good hour of sweaty, intense racing we made our way back to the hotel for a shower, shit and shave, some a powernap..ahum..not me.
And onto the evening, where we had an amazing dinner at TGI Fridays. I love burgers, American food in general, and the warrior burger there was just too much for me to finish. That does not really ever happen, me not finishing my plate. Ha! And you can always raise my spirits with good food.
With a full stomach, beer-filled bladder we were nearing midnight almost and ready to twerk, robot-dance the night away. Or at least whatever happened during that midnight blur………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. More importantly I do know I woke up in my own bed, without a man, dog, inflatable doll, transvestite or woman next to me…pheeww…!
The next morning after a refreshing dose of Red Bull and fatty English breakfast the three of us moved to our next activity, which was one I had always wanted to do: An Escape Room.
Created in the theme of the Exorcist, and considering I am a pussy when it comes to horror, I knew this was going to be an adrenaline pumping experience. We had 1 hour to get out of the almost pitch dark room, using clues with the help of a few candles. A thoroughly exciting and thrilling experience, where I found myself looking over my shoulder a few too many times, thinking something would secretly creep up behind me…hahah…such a wuss I know!
Unfortunately we only managed to get 80% of the clues and did not get out on time, however the experience was bloody exciting and we also now know my other best man Caesar is the new Sherlock Holmes in the making. He could damn well find a needle in a haystack.
Funnily enough our next activity was barely 2 streets away: Pool. Not a swimming pool, but playing pool (billiard) another sport I love doing but never get round to playing. For a few hours we played with sometimes embarrassingly amateurish shots until we clearly concluded that none of us were ever going to be able to make a living out of this sport. And after some cheap grub and many unintended trick shots it was almost 16:00 o’clock and time to drop Rasta off at the station and Caesar and myself to make our way to the airport.
Just over two weeks to go…
And now my fiancee and I are intensely counting down the days to our wedding day, October 13th! It is so close now and I am seriously suffering from wedding jitters and cannot wait to actually wake up on the morning of the 13th!
Considering the fact that I still have not received my tailored suit, which only adds to the nerves, I am hoping no last minute issues arise.
Next week I will hopefully have my suit and will check back in with you guys again then.
A massive thanks to the lads again, I cannot wait to have you by my side at the wedding!