ad astra
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face:
now I know in part; but then I shall know even as also I am known.

Well, we did it, oh yes we did, and the camera never lies.

Alan: starting a pint just as we leave.

Alan, Starting another pint just as we leave.

..... NORM!!!

Gilly... in an attempt to pose manly

Huddled close for warmth and defense from the greasy longhairs in Bruxelles.

The group in the gorilla bar. Here Grainne is startled; in a while she becomes startling.

Another group shot. In this one Rois is looking at the ceiling: this is going to become a theme for the evening - we seem to have made a habit of tempting God's smiting.

Gilly and a startled Aoife. I don't care, Aoife, this photo is not coming down.

Anyone who grins like this shouldn't be called Sarah, but rather Sally.

The sign warns that women should watch their personal belongings. With a grin like Eamonn's I wonder if that shouldn't have read "personal belongings."

I don't care what anybody says: I just know that this woman's owned a pony at one stage in her life.

Definitely a bad sign: I'm in a dark alleyway with a load of girls and all I can do is take pictures.

All the better to kiss you with...

I'd love to know what this desperado was talking about 'cause it looks fascinating.

Holy crap! Was I singing?

Gilly; planning some kind of mischief.

Sabrina; standing behind what looks like the devil himself.

No... I'm sorry, but nobody called Sally could sulk like this... nope: it'll have to be Sarah again.

A cheery Liadh... she's probably been beating her students with a length of garden hose.

Again, I'd love to know what Liadh's trying to explain here 'cause it looks really interesting.
Mike is pointing at the ceiling and Satan seems to find this worrying.

Sean, Sean, Sean and Suzanne

Liadh: so drunk she's keeling like a spanish galleon.

And this was before the tequila.

And I'm wondering if this look...

... has anything to do with this look.

Even more sky-pointing: something is definitely on it's way.

Oh, it's just God again, smiting the sinful. I can't seem to get rid of that holy moocher.

Bob and Gilly's sister... erm... shit.... don't tell me, I'll remember... crap.
Apparantly she remarked to Gilly on my good behaviour.

Good behaviour? I must have been hammered

... Ruth! Her name's Ruth!

I have no idea who these people are, but I get the feeling that I corralled them into a corner and harranged them about something.

Again, I can remember talking to this woman for a while but I can't remember about what.
I figure that knowing what we talked about might be a good aide memoir as to who she is.

A slightly confused Liadh coming to terms with perspective - top tip: they're both the same size only one is further away...

Camera joke #1: I think that everybody in the history of photography has taken this snap.

Ah, tequila... the drink that makes everyone look like they've just kissed a possum's arse.

Yeah... a possum's arse... tasty!

I don't even know what I was doing. This was in the long hall and holy jesus I was non compus mentus by then.

I'm not absolutely sure, but I think this was after the tequila.

I'm absolutely sure: this rambunctions display of bravado was after the tequila.

... Jeez, now I'm just showing off.

No idea... who? What? Why? All I can think of is: from beneath you, it devours

Gilly and Pretty boy Floyd, the outlaw (Oklahoma knew him well)

What was I doing that was startling women so much?

... oh yeah... now I remember...

Who was this swarthy desperado? I can barely remember calling him Juan all night.

I think that Gilly should change his name to Max - I think it suits hium better... he looks like a Max.

There was another shutterbug at this brouhaha and I want what's in Rois' camera.

... but not as much as I what what's in Grainne's glass. Oh, the baggage!