The night ended at 3 am with us staggering back up the hill other drunken English lads were rolling down. We had decided to end on a high and not drag it out into the early hours. I stuck with David, maintaining my oath to ensure he wasn’t getting into any trouble or hurt only a few weeks before the Big Day. Other lads carried on the night and next morning , barely made it down to breakfast in time. They looked rough as heck and were not in a good way for today’s activity.

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Magaluf Mash-Up

As the Best Man, I have 3 jobs.

  1. Get the Groom and Ring to the wedding on time and in one piece.
  2. Deliver a funny yet scathing speech
  3. Organise the Stag Party

Number 1 and 2 were a long way off back in January when I was planning number 3 on the list. Davids friends are…. (searches for an accurate but minimally insulting description)…. a roudy bunch. It was soon settled that a suitably roudy trip to Magaluf was in order. After some planning, booking, herding cats, scheming and bribing, the trip was on.

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