Sunday Morning Coming Down

So, around midnight on Saturday we left Furness Beer Festival - where miraculously nothing was on fire, although someone had managed to vomit explosively over the entrance to the History department - and headed back to Adam and Laura's accommodation. Alastair - the subject of this rather unique portrait - had, like a real Furnessian, been dedicating himself to the ale since about two o'clock in the afternoon, and was starting to feel it a little bit. (In fact, about half an hour prior to this picture being taken, a couple of our gang had apparently discovered Al on a bench outside, in more or less the same posture, with his face in a pizza).

It's not very often we get to have nights like this anymore, so massive respect to Alastair and the rest of the gang for making it a memorable one. Well, I say "memorable". Bits and pieces of it are.