Last weekend I was invited to celebrate my friends 50th birthday at Veranda a restaurant and bar in the centre of Brixton, which doubled up as a nightclub later in the evening This was chosen by her daughter who wanted to give their mother a nightclub experience, because at 50 she had never stepped foot in a nightclub. .
We started the evening with a selection of cocktails, as I was driving I chose a virgin mojito, basically a mock cocktail with no alcohol
The food was delicious, beautifully presented and packed with flavour, traditional West Indian cuisine served with style and flare, which did not disappoint. We all ordered various dishes from the menu. My friend ordered achee and saltfish, a Jamaican traditional dish served wrapped in filo pastry. I had a delicious filtered sea bass, but my eyes popped when I saw what the other guest had ordered, licking my lips I wish I had chosen their meal.
My friend chose curry goat served in a tuile basket, rather than a splash on a plate.
The carrot cake and ice-cream desert looked yummy, but I was too full to indulge
Later in the evening the diners table weas moved to make room for the dance floor and there is where it went down hill, the music was great, but the floor was taken over with 20 plus which was great for her daughters, but I felt like a fish out of water, wishing I had the courage to get up and shake my stuff, but feeling stupid and old stayed with my friend and danced on the couch, you know only moving you upper body and foot tapping.
My question is when do you become too old for clubbing, and where do grown up clubbers go, or it all about the 20 plus
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