alan partridge
Active member
Who can forget Dwayne's tales of Chinawhite?
The Guardian decided to give a Farmer from Orkney the chance to live like everone's favourite friend of a chimney sweep
http://www.guardian.co.uk/country/article/0,2763,1315308,00.html
After coffee and a selection of fine cheese - Geordie is, by his own admission, "daft on cheese", we head off to Chinawhite, the sort of nightclub where we might expect to find a few recently sacked soap stars. Almost immediately we realise our mistake. We are neither of us young or stupid enough to enjoy paying £20 each for access to a loud, overcrowded basement where all the chairs are reserved for people who haven't shown up yet, on the off-chance that we might get jostled by Dean Gaffney later on. It is, as Geordie puts it, "just a whole load of folk bangin' into each other". In the din it's impossible to explain to him why such places exist, that they essentially serve a moneyed, post-pub crowd suffering from impaired decision-making skills as regards what to do next. They're kebab shops for the rich. "This is bollocks," he shouts in my ear. "This is not real. This is artificial." I look around. If only it weren't real. We make the best of three rounds of drinks, and then return to the Hempel to drain his minibar.
This week on The Farm, Stan Collymore and Debbie McGee tried to milk a cow, and ended up with a bucket full of piss. Geordie will not have seen this edifying episode; among the many modern wonders they manage to rub along without on Westray, is Channel 5. But everyone on Westray has heard about Geordie's trip to London. When he first got back he walked into his local pub, and someone turned to him and said, "I dinna think you'd be comin' into places like this now you're a celebrity." This week he's back on his farm, making the buildings ready for the cows to wait out the winter and spreading slurry when the gales permit it. He did send me an email, including his final thoughts on his recent and singular brush with fame: "Hope you are well. I am knackered but enjoyed my experience. Dwayne is demanding, spoilt, arrogant, artificial and sad. Nightclub was shite. Geordie Drever."
The Guardian decided to give a Farmer from Orkney the chance to live like everone's favourite friend of a chimney sweep
http://www.guardian.co.uk/country/article/0,2763,1315308,00.html
After coffee and a selection of fine cheese - Geordie is, by his own admission, "daft on cheese", we head off to Chinawhite, the sort of nightclub where we might expect to find a few recently sacked soap stars. Almost immediately we realise our mistake. We are neither of us young or stupid enough to enjoy paying £20 each for access to a loud, overcrowded basement where all the chairs are reserved for people who haven't shown up yet, on the off-chance that we might get jostled by Dean Gaffney later on. It is, as Geordie puts it, "just a whole load of folk bangin' into each other". In the din it's impossible to explain to him why such places exist, that they essentially serve a moneyed, post-pub crowd suffering from impaired decision-making skills as regards what to do next. They're kebab shops for the rich. "This is bollocks," he shouts in my ear. "This is not real. This is artificial." I look around. If only it weren't real. We make the best of three rounds of drinks, and then return to the Hempel to drain his minibar.
This week on The Farm, Stan Collymore and Debbie McGee tried to milk a cow, and ended up with a bucket full of piss. Geordie will not have seen this edifying episode; among the many modern wonders they manage to rub along without on Westray, is Channel 5. But everyone on Westray has heard about Geordie's trip to London. When he first got back he walked into his local pub, and someone turned to him and said, "I dinna think you'd be comin' into places like this now you're a celebrity." This week he's back on his farm, making the buildings ready for the cows to wait out the winter and spreading slurry when the gales permit it. He did send me an email, including his final thoughts on his recent and singular brush with fame: "Hope you are well. I am knackered but enjoyed my experience. Dwayne is demanding, spoilt, arrogant, artificial and sad. Nightclub was shite. Geordie Drever."