Oh, tut tut, so a crowd of youngsters in London on their O.E. got drunk.
"Shouldn't let them our of the country, bloody irresponsible," said Fred, age 75.
"You never got drunk when you were away?" I asked innocently.
"Course not."
Well maybe my memory is a bit longer and less selective than Fred's, but I remember growing up in the 1940's when the pubs all shut at 6 o'clock and every dance hall had a truck out the back selling beer.
And I remember when my own sons were on their O.E's hearing about how people in Munich had to carry umbrellas to shield them from vomiting drunks on the rides at the Munich beer festivals, and most of these drunks were Australians and New Zealanders.
Binge drinking has been part of the (male) kiwi culture since the whalers and sealers came ashore in the 1820s.
It's a rite of passage. They leave home, drink themselves legless, and if they survive they eventually settle down and become respectable, like Fred.
What a pack of hypocrites we are!
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