Who needs public transport???

Is what I said to myself at 6am on Saturday morning as I began a two and a half hour adventure through the streets of London and Hampstead Heath.

The evening began in the gentlemens club, where we were discussing lichtenstein over a game of backgammon. In actual fact it began in the Comedy Store, a stand up comedy club - I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. Five comics and an MC, all hilarious in their own way, the dash to get as many pints into us as possible before happy hour ended probably made things a little more humourous.

We left the Comedy Store and headed to one of the cheapest, sleaziest, messiest, most Australian pub in London - the walkabout in Leciester Square. This is where things started to get a little hazy - we had a few more whistle wetters and a danced around for a while, then as far as I know we were magically teleported to a party in some part of London that I don't recall (I have since learned it was Kentish Town). We immediately became best friends with the hosts and were fed some of their concoctions. I gather it was around 6am when I announced my departure by my text message 'sent items' folder. I waved off all offers of directions and maps. Even though I swore blind that I knew London like the back of my hand, I wasn't believed and finally gave in to taking an A-Z guide with me - just in case.

Two and a half hours later I was scrambling over gates in Hampstead Heath. After jumping fences into peoples back gardens and vegetable patches, and on one occasion going over the same fence twice, I realised I had absolutely no idea where I was or in what direction I was headed. It was also at that point that I did a tumble turn over a fence and landed squarely on my head - like a pole being driven into the ground. After a few minutes of wandering through a forrested area I realised I had left my new cashmere sweater lying over the perilous fence from before. During my dash back to retrieve it I slipped several times, sending myself sprawling through the mud. With jumper retrieved I managed to negotiate my way out of this seemingly endless rainforest and found a street. THANK GOD for the A-Z, I found which street I was on and I proceeded to find my way home. It must have been a bit of a shock for my new housemates when I appeared at the front door bleeding from the hands and face and covered in mud. Straight into bed and have been recovering ever since. I just hope I can get the multicoloured stains from my new clothes (note: cashmere jumper - unscathed).

Quite possibly the most excitement I've had in a while, I even texted Lucas telling him he was missing out on a hell of an adventure - I probably wouldn't choose to do it again though...well maybe next weekend.