I realise a thread with this title could go one of two ways –
1. Individual – using the royal “we”, personal bad experiences
2. Societal – drinks that have gone the way of bread and dripping
Let’s include both, if you have a story, but the following is definitely Option 1
In about 1973 I found myself in that London, a very innocent 19 year old far away from where I had grown up, a very sheltered life in New Zealand. I encountered pubs, and pints, loved them, and just went for it. One evening I’d had as many pints as I could cope with (probably one, maybe one and a half) and the people I was with were still going, and someone suggested if I couldn’t handle any more beer I should try a nice glass of port. Which I did. Mmmm – yummy, I probably had two. And then we left, back to our campsite (that’s what you did in those days, traveled round and camped). Of course the next bit is inevitable, I woke up in the middle of the night and was violently ill, several times, over several hours, on the grass outside. Needless to say I have not touched port since. Not considered it. Not contemplated it. Not even had a sniff when someone else has ordered it.