There was a Scotsman...

...a Welsh(wo)man and an Irishman who had a jolly old time at the St Patrick's Day Charity Ball. Never mind the rugby results, we all partied into the early hours. It was a good craic.

It was a black tie affair and the food was superb - crab meat and grilled artichokes, followed by roasted parsnip and apple soup with king prawn to start. St Patrick's rack of lamb for main (which I later established was Welsh, it was delicious) then whiskey creme brulee, ice cream and kiwi coulis to finish off. Talking of whiskey, for someone who doesn't like it - with or without an 'e' in its name, I didn't do too badly. An ante room had been converted into a proper Irish pub, in a Temple Bar setting to make us think we were in Dublin, but with bottles of the aforementioned whiskey on the tables! The Irish sausages and other snacks were just the ticket to keep us going and music from a band, and a bit of Irish dancing entertained us right through the morning, until I decided to cab it home at 5am.

I've since heard that the Scotsman threw in the towel at 2am and that the Irishman is still pissed, and slept in his tux!