The sambuca was my idea.

So was the whisky.

As was the gin and tonic.

And it wouldn't be a birthday without several pints of Guinness.

And the odd lager. And a couple of Little Creatures.

Oh, and there was a half bottle of Californian Orange Muscat.

But I didn't drink much of that.

Someone else did. On the beach, curled up against the wind, the pink, orange and pale blue of the hidden sun crawling beneath the northern horizon.

My clothes smelled of bonfire yesterday morning.

And my head hurt.