All that was missing was the royalty
For my honeymoon I wanted to go overboard. Full on monty, never to be topped. My betrothed was half Italian but never had been to Italy. So I thought "What's the most romantic place in Italy?"

Venice, I thought. And what's the most romantic way to get there? Orient Express, I thought. So I said to myself "sod the cost" and booked a trip to Venice on the Orient Express, and a room in the best hotel in Venice that I could find.

The stretch limo had trouble reversing down our very thin cul de sac the morning of departure, but it did feel weird having about 30 feet of leg room and a bottle of bubbly at 8am in the morning on the way to Victoria station.

Checked in wearing suit and tie, shiny shoes, and the new wife wearing a summer dress. Brunch on the way to the channel was dainty and the service delightful.

The sun was beginning to set when we got to Paris, and the train carried on through as we got into our Dinner Jackets/Tuxuedos and the ladies squiggled into their little black dresses. A piano tinkled, a real honest to god grand fucking piano on a train, and dinner was served. It seemed to be as many endangered species as you could cram onto a plate, with wine that would set James Bond's accountant crying into his linen hankie.

Honeymoon shagging ensued after dinner, and I'm sure we crossed a couple of borders on the way. Who else has literally shagged their way across Europe?

In the morning we were high in the Alps, crossing into Italy, and the missus burst into tears because she was "home". Pulled into Venice that evening and continued the opulence, tipping like a madman and generally being an upper class arse for the weekend.

Fuck, you need to just let go once in your life. Shame she turned into a real cunt and I divorced her a couple of years ago, but it was one of those weekends where it all went right and minions did our bidding.

Pip pip.
( gfreeman is only here for the beer, Fri 29 Jul 2011, 15:59, 3 replies)

See, you should have offed her on the train and framed the guard.
It is traditional but you have to watch out for strange Belgian fellows.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Fri 29 Jul 2011, 17:30, closed)

*obligatory insinuation that you are lying and have never so much as seen a woman naked*

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 29 Jul 2011, 20:18, closed)

8am in the morning, eh?

( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 1 Aug 2011, 14:00, closed)