Julia, Mara and Sara

It was around 4am, Sunday. On Cambridge Circus I was approached by five Italian ladies. Despair in their eyes was conspicuous. "We need a loo! WE NEED A LOO!" - they informed me dramatically... I admit women don't have it easy here... In central London there are some dispersed urinals, brought over each weekend. They are not designed for women, though... Another significant inconvenience is created by the fact that about 99% of premises around West End get shut by 3am, every night. As usual, things we need the most are, actually,  the hardest to obtain by the time we would give anything to get them... The ladies were, clearly, uncomfortable. One of them tried again. "Please, can you do anything to help us?" - she begged. "What can I do?" - I shrugged - "If you want I can spread my blanket and hold it up, while you are peeing behind it..." - I laughed. "Should we really do it?" - she addressed the remaining girls, immediately. "Do what?" - they looked at her. "He can hold a blanket for us and we can pee behind it!" OMG! We all laughed so hard! It was, definitely, the time for a bit of improvisation. "Listen ladies! You are five women. Just go there" - I showed them a dark back street - "and I'm sure you will be fine!" They listened to the voice of reason and off they went. I started to chat with Tomek aka Banderas. After a while three of the Italian ladies somehow materialised next to me, again. There were grinning widely, visibly relieved. "Success?" - It was rather obvious. "Oh yeah! We peed behind a big lorry!" - they declared proudly. "Could you take us back to our hostel in Bayswater, please?" We agreed a price, they embarked and we hit the road. Soon we passed a big lorry. Giggling they indicated a paddle on the floor next to it and it was impressive. They introduced themselves as Julia, Mara and Sara and were a great company, indeed! I got a £10 tip, when they realised how far I took them. It was very, very nice to meet them and I wish all my lifts were as pleasant!

Follow the willy!

Women on hen nights are always a phenomenon worth seeing. No matter if it's gonna be a straight or a gay marriage the circumstances are the same corny. Cheesy and usually pink outfits accompanied by wide range of sex toys bring a peculiar vibe. A few days ago I saw some women in Soho celebrating a hen night. One of them had a large pink penis in her hand. Apparently it was a lash and any bypasser was welcome to whip her bottom up with it. There was much rejoicing. Hen nights originating from sexual revolution of the 60s and fully exercising gender equality surely could be fun. At least as long as its participants don't get too wasted...

Once, when in Granada, I saw a future bride riding a donkey (burro taxi) which actually might be a nice reminiscence of an ancient tradition.

Another night I met a large girly squad wondering through the streets of West End on a hen night mission. They seemed to be a little lost. There was a moment of confusion and then one of them rose her hand high, wielding one of those little-prick-ended sipping straws, to indicate direction and shouted: "Ladies, follow the willy!"