We've all want to try it at least once whether or not we're willing to admit it.
I'm talking about limos folks. And not the classy, Grace Kelly-esque kind, but the pink monstrosities that are the hen do limos.
And now it was happening. We figured that after all the class and sophistication that formed the first part of the Camel's hen do, we could get away with the tackiest means of transportation known to man kind. And finally I got to ride in a glossy pink 9 seater complete with hen do banners, bride-to-be balloons and L-Plates! Every girls (and secretly most men's) dream.
Finding said limo was surprisingly not a very easy task. In the end, I had made about 20 odd phone calls to various limousine companies pleading with them to please let us have a limo. Maybe just a little one then? Maybe if you make that other group of girls walk like normal people? Pleeeeease?
After bringing myself to the edge of frustration, I found it. In Essex. Now there's not a surprise.
I wound up speaking to one extremely patient and helpful man who I've decided to call Joe. Primarily and only because I wasn't listening as he said his name. Joe spent a good 15 minutes describing the exact shade of metallic baby pink of the car to me and at the end of the longest conversation in his life he had somehow thrown in extra bottle of champagne and a bunch of freebies I am fairly certain he never intended to chuck in. Good old Joe.
Following our accidental hen do at the Camel's local, we managed to get inside her flat to make ourselves look pretty, drink some more champagne and carefully dodge any questions from the bride to be with regards to the upcoming events of the evening. Now telling is not fun is it?
Ten minutes ahead of the set time of limo launch we get the call to say the driver, whom I also decided to call Joe, was a few minutes away. At this stage we were all getting rather excited and giggly (that last bit may have been champagne related) but did our best not to cause suspicion. We failed miserably and had a rather nervous (and also giggly!) bride on our hands.
As soon as she got outside though, those nerves were gone and we were back at that laugh and the repeated squeals sounding something like 'OH MY GOD!' The Camel must be the best subject to surprise there ever was, nowhere else can you get that level of excitement and happiness. And this is why we love her.
Without a doubt, this was the most fun, and expensive, car ride of my life. Again, it may have been champagne related. You're not allowed champagne in black cabs. Or most other cabs. I've tried.
It was basically a party on wheels. Music, glitter, balloons and a fair bit of sit-down-dancing. We could have easily continued the party in the limo for hours to come, but settled for circling Central London but once and I don't think Joe minded just getting an hour in with our lot. There's only so many 'more champagne!', 'more music!', 'more faster!' a man can be expected to take from an overly excited hen party. He handled it well though. Very patient breed those Joes.
Soon that was it. We had arrived and were ready to let the last and most extraordinary segment of this party commence!
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| At the very height of excitement. |
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| Our very own mobile night club! |
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