Faux Fresher.

Nia enjoying a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel at Teacup on Thomas Street, a trendy Mr. Scruff-themed teatime spot located in Manchester's Northern Quarter. I was here visiting Nia's new house (which is MASSIVE by the way you are all invited for a hayuge party details tbc), a visit which quite conveniently coincided with Manchester's Freshers' Week. The catch is that I'm not a Manchester Fresher; however, realising that my own Freshers' would most likely be far inferior, I decided to have my fill of real Mancunian fun.

Indeed, Nia provided a truly authentic Freshers' experience: sure enough, come midnight I was stood doing all the dancing that one square foot of dancefloor space would allow at South (pretty much just swaying from side to side), doing my utmost to avoid the ocean of sweaty bodies writhing about me. Tuesday saw me fit to burst after my first meal on the Curry Mile, an affair which left me almost in tears through overeating. Tea was definitely one of the more civilised activities in which we partook.

Then, full of Chicken Tikka and zombied after the previous night's shenanigans, Nia and I shunned a night on the tiles in favour of a night in the marital bed. Perhaps, I thought, as Nia and I snuggled up to watch Have I Got News For You, this is God's way of telling me to leave Freshers' to actual Freshers.