The Quayside Inn and...Shades...  
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Based in the bunkhouse next to Cornish Divers and in surrounding B&Bs, the tribe got in plenty of shore and boat diving, much socializing and have a good few memories to take home and put to bed.


Thursday night passed in a blur, the rivers of headlights from London disgorging divers straight into the Quayside Inn down by, wait for it, the quayside, for a pint or two of the Inn’s impressive selection of real ales, Spitfire, Honey Badger, Bishop’s Finger, Old Bastard, Horses Arse, Witches Tit and Donkey’s Knob.


The upper floor of the pub filled as divers decanted throughout the evening and the atmosphere was convivial and relaxed. Even though twenty-two of London’s finest were together there were no truly new faces and everyone settled in seamlessly for the evening.

Once the wheels of the social engine had been lubed up and the intellectual transmission ground down, those hardy souls who were still standing (meandering, wobbling, leaning) made their way down to Falmouth’s premier night spot, Shades, to mingle, pull and shake their funky thangs.

Obviously word got out and the locals had hopped it, leaving acres of sticky parquet for the happening disco dive divas to get down with it.

Sirrell layed down her thang and tempted the crushed masses with her Party Trick (a wad of unmarked fivers to me and I’ll tell you what it is; no one’s seen it yet but let’s just say Dan’s a lucky man).

I have heard rumours of chronic footwork, bodyrock, the Shiver and the Worm all putting in an appearance down at Shades. E-Mail me (in confidence) if you have details of this shameful breakdancing.

"Trust me ma'am, I'm a doctor"

"Allreet there sunshine, I'll believe ye fer now, but I'm watching yes so easy does it like allreet"

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