a hen party in your 30s is a little bit more classy...a little bit...

last weekend myself and 14 other ladies took ourselves off to Newcastle for one of my best friends Sam's hen party. now 15 girls + newcastle + hen party does not normally equal a classy affair. think Geordie Shore but with Yorkshire women. but we're all in our 30s now and a lot of the party had children and the general consensus was that we were there for a good time, but we had to keep it fairly tame.

the weekend was well put together by the bride's sister, Laura, with help from Chilli Sauce events  who arranged our obligatory daytime activity and our evening meal (Zizzis, you cant go wrong when feeding the masses.) once we'd arrived in Newcastle we went straight to a hotel to all take part in a life drawing class, aimed at hen parties, so alcohol welcome and the model was a good sport with all the giggling and high spirits. most importantly it was a really good ice breaker for creating conversation with girls in the group we hadn't met before. which is the whole point of hen party activities.

once back at our hotel (with a pit stop at the local garage to get some form of lunch to soak up the prosecco) we were changed and ready to hit the toon (by 4.15!!!)its been a long time since ive been out in Newcastle, the last time was about 4 years ago for a hen do too and i must admit i was afraid it would be as full of black hair extensions and fake tan as back then, but it wasn't. we went in several bars that were expensive, busy and playing music that everyone in the group, bar me, loved. no surprise there, i haven't liked the same music as my peers ever. id imagine my music taste is more like Jeremy Clarkson's. so they were good bars; the atmosphere was good, the cliente was young and fashionable and thats what we wanted. most importantly, the bride loved it.

but, as often happens now, you hit a wall. whether its because sleep is so precious and the thought of going to sleep undisturbed in a double bed unshared is so appealing. or whether its because we havent got a back log of sleep stored i just cant get past midnight if the music isnt my thing. a few of us made it to 11.30 (pathetic i know) and we got a taxi back to the hotel. where we go into the beds in one of the rooms and the nice receptionist ordered us kebabs (classy) and we ate them in bed with flat prosecco (v.classy.) but we were happy, and our shoes were happily kicked to the floor.

and it got me to thinking. when did this happen? when did we find it acceptable to throw the towel in and go home at such a time? it creeps up on you, regardless of real age or situation, and before you know it you're a bit boring. i really thought i was going to have a proper burn out and stay out til 4 but no. give me some footloose and you might have got me til 2am.

the bride to be, Sam, enjoying a glass of pink fizz...

 drinks in The Botanist...

the obligatory group photo with hen party photo booth props i bought for the hen party goodie bags...