Bad footprint behaviour...

4am at a funky party - the likes of which I don't get to attend nearly often enough.

Several vats of wine had been drunk, along with 27 shots...or thereabouts.
Lots of dancing, chatting and most of all drinking had been taking place for many hours up until that point.

To say that I was sweaty, boss-eyed and lumbering around like a fool if you will, would be a understatement.

Was happily chatting away to a previously-not-met-before reveller about the excellent-ness of the party and why I had flown to be on the south coast that weekend. I might have mentioned that I was also flying back again the following weekend for a similar event.

Might, I said.

Was rabbiting on inanely, praising low-cost airlines and their ability to stave off homesickness on my part, and generally (I thought) boring the poor blighter to death. That is until my new found friend piped up...

'Can I stop you there? Perhaps I should mention I work for Greenpeace'.

Now, I have nothing against such types, of which there are an abundance of in that part of the world, and I do in fact, worry about such issues.

However, there is a time and a place for such a rigid disapproving comment (well that is how I think I remember it), and 4am is perhaps not it.

I wibbled off shortly afterwards, concerned.

Not for the environment I might add, but for the amount of water and sleep I might have to have, in order to feel semi-human the following day.

A lot more than I had accounted for it turned out.