by Jerramy Fine
The Phoenix, Smith Street, SW3
The Punchbowl, Farm Street, W1J (owned by Madonna’s ex-husband Guy Ritchie)
The Grenadier, Wilton Row, SW1
DRINKS THAT NICE PUB-GOING GIRLS SHOULD AVOID:
Pints of anything, including cider (I know it tastes like apple juice, but you must refrain.)
Bacardi Breezers or any sweet, pastel-colored “alco-pop”
Shots of Aftershock (If you must do shots, go with something classic and slightly less vulgar, like vodka or tequila.)
Creamy cocktails
Regal Hunting Ground #3: Certain UK Universities
The exquisite art of idleness is one of the most important things that any university can teach.
—OSCAR WILDE
When Rupert first invited me to visit him at his university, I was astounded. Don’t get me wrong, I partied a lot during my student days in America. In fact it was not uncommon for me to attend college parties at least five days a week.
But British students? They put me to shame. There are three major reasons for this. The first is that the drinking age in the UK is eighteen, so all colleges have their own university-sponsored pubs and bars. The second is that freshman year grades don’t count. That’s right. They simply don’t count. So your first year of college is genuinely one giant party partly subsidized by the UK government. The third reason is there are no GPAs,12 only year-end exams—so you often have absolutely no course work to do until the end of the term, which is when you start cramming.
Still, while academia did not seem to be at the forefront of UK campus life, the student social scene was fantastic. The more time I spent with the Bright Young Things, the more I realized the social maturity of these British college kids greatly surpassed American students of the same age. Their parties weren’t full of the juvenile fraternity/sorority antics I was used to; their bashes were straight out of Oscar Wilde. As young twenty-somethings, they seemed to be in total denial that they were living in a new millennium, and coped by pretending to be mini nineteenth-century adults. Bearing in mind that I’ve always pretended to be exactly the same thing, I loved every second of it.
Where to Go
St. Andrews, Oxford, Cambridge, Bristol, Exeter, Durham, Edinburgh, Oxford Brookes, University of West England, and the Royal Agricultural College. As mentioned previously, when scouting student territories, avoid London.
What to Expect
Raucous private house parties, university bars (avoid local ones!), minor alcohol poisoning, and a lot of kissing13—it is not uncommon for these boys to make out with three or more girls in a single evening.
What to Wear
(Unless it’s fancy dress) designer jeans, tasteful yet dazzling party tops with a hint of cleavage, high heels, a warm but flattering coat for walking home at night when you can’t find a taxi.
What to Drink
At parties? Whatever’s on offer. (Homemade sangria and cheap white wine are the usual suspects.)
At bars? Gin and tonic.
Best Flirting Spot
Anywhere and everywhere.
Faux Pas
Showing any regard for grades, exams, or academic standing. (With this crowd, it’s considered bad manners to be clever or too hardworking. It implies that your family’s history and status aren’t enough to get you by in life.)
Top Tip
Make sure your lipstick isn’t smudged.
Best Student Hangover Cure
A “bacon and butter butty” (aka a “bacon and butter sandwich”). My first reaction when I was offered one of these was that I’d never heard of anything that sounded less healthy—but they are delicious and they do the trick.
Binge Drinking
Student binge drinking is currently considered to be a huge problem among US universities, but oddly, it’s not considered to be a problem at all in the UK. One journalist, intrigued by this anomaly, did some research into how the US and UK officially defined student “binge drinking” and unearthed some very entertaining results:
American definition: “five beers in one sitting for a male, or four for a female.”
British definition: “an extended period of time, lasting at least two days, during which a student repeatedly becomes intoxicated and gives up his or her usual activities and obligations in order to become intoxicated.”
Hassinger, Kris. “Binge drinking problem exaggerated,” Collegiate Times.com, November 2003.
HOW TO BE A GRACEFUL DRUNK:
Don’t go beyond the light-headed, cheeks-tingling, hugging-everyone-you-know phase—throwing up and passing out is not attractive. Or safe.
Know your limit. (Between the ages of eighteen and twenty-six, my limit was exactly seven drinks per evening; I regret to report that now it’s exactly 1.5.)
Don’t drink on an empty stomach!
No matter how fast the drinks are flowing, duck into the loo occasionally to check your appearance. Powder away the shine, pop in some eye drops, reapply your lipstick, and smooth your hair. Because looking sober is the next best thing to being sober.
Never fall out of the club/pub into the first mini cab you see (it’s dangerous, not to mention getting into a stranger’s car while under the influence is everything your mother told you not to do). Always go home in a licensed black cab.
Before you go to bed, eat a piece of toast, drink two (if not three) glasses of water, and pop a pair of pills for your head. (FYI: Nurofen = Ibuprofen; Paracetmol = Tylenol.)
In the morning, drink coffee and wear your best Jackie O sunglasses.
Parable #3
Whenever I went out for drinks with a group of British friends, students, or coworkers, someone would kindly offer to buy me a gin and tonic, so I’d thank them profusely and graciously accept. Inevitably, before my drink was halfway finished, someone else would offer to buy me a drink, and again, I’d thank them for the kindness and happily accept. Afterward, I usually had to go meet my gay best friend for dinner or head across town for another puzzling “date” with a English boy, so I’d thank them again, say good-bye to everyone, and be on my way.
Little did I know that this was the height of rudeness. Worse than that, it was practically heresy.
In the UK, drinking is done in rounds. If you are out socializing with eight people, you are expected to drink eight drinks, because every single one of you is expected to buy a round of eight drinks. If you have a headache and only feel like drinking one drink or you simply can’t afford to buy eight drinks, then apparently you shouldn’t be consuming alcohol in public whatsoever.
This isn’t just bizarre British drinking etiquette, it’s actually some kind of sacred British obligation—and god knows how many Brits I offended before I realized my mistake.
Regal Hunting Ground #3: Sporting Events
In England, there is a well-known saying that everyone loves to repeat: Football is a gentleman’s game played by hooligans, and rugby is a hooligan’s game played by gentlemen.
I can’t stress to you how true this is. The most important piece of advice I can give you on this subject of UK sporting events is to avoid football matches (aka soccer games) like the plague.
I realize that compared to the high-impact activity of the NFL, soccer looks positively elegant. Graceful even. And in the US, soccer players tend to reflect this. (In my high school, members of the soccer team were among some of the highest achieving and well-rounded students in the district.)
Yet in England the reverse tends to be true. UK soccer games have a reputation for being filled with spectators that look as though they have done time for assault, and alcohol is not allowed in the stadiums for this very reason. Promise me—steer clear.
But in terms of Hunting Grounds, all is not lost. If you’re looking for handsomely rowdy and roguish English boys (that also happen to be true gentlemen), I guarantee you will find them at any:
rugby match
cricket match
polo match
tennis match
>
It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand the rules to any of the above. I certainly don’t. But I assure you that even if you have no idea what is happening during the game itself, all of these sporting events are splendid social occasions that also happen to be filled with eligible Englishmen. (And if any guy dares to give you trouble about the fact that you possess less than a working knowledge of the above sports, just ask him to explain the Eton Wall Game. That should silence him pretty quickly—as I’m pretty sure that less than 50 percent of the players understand it themselves.)
Rugby (A Hooligan’s Game Played by Gentlemen)
Until rather recently, rugby union players were not allowed to earn any money through sponsorship or advertising (because after all, only the lower classes require an income.)
Where to go: Any England or Wales match at Twickenham.
What to expect: Mauling, rucking, scrums, and something quite worryingly called a “blood bin.”14 But all you really need to know is that rugby players have big sturdy thighs, big muscley shoulders, and (because they refuse to wear protective gear of any kind) they are always getting spectacularly and violently injured.
What to drink: Bitter, Lager, or Guinness. Throughout the entire game. No hot dogs or peanuts or Cracker Jack. Just pints and pints and pints of beer. Needless to say, the queue for the ladies loo can be rather lengthy.
Who goes: If England or Wales is playing, sightings of Prince Harry, William and Kate, Zara Phillips (her husband, Mike Tindall, is a former England captain), and their Castle Crew friends are regular occurrences.
Warning: Every girl I know who is dating a rugby player spends most weekends by his hospital bedside, faithfully tending to his injury of the week.
Cricket
Most of us think life is a game; the English think cricket is a game.
—GEORGES MIKES
Admittedly, the rules of cricket are a minefield if you haven’t grown up with them (from what I can tell, one player’s sole task is to hold onto his teammate’s sweater for safekeeping), but what I love most about cricket is that people dress up for it.
Where to go: Lord’s Cricket Ground will have a slightly higher caliber of spectator than the Oval. (Although Hugh Grant has been spotted at both.)
What to wear: Summery dresses for women, linen suits for men.
What to expect: Victorian stands filled with spectators leisurely reading the Sunday Times, munching on delicate finger sandwiches, sipping chilled wine and pitchers of Pimm’s, and stopping only occasionally to glance at the scoreboard to see how England is progressing. And of course the game pauses at 4 p.m. sharp to allow for afternoon tea. You can see why it’s my kind of sport. Believe me, if baseball involved a semiformal dress code and a civilized tea break, I might be more of a fan.
Best flirting spots: The Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC) Pavilion; the Eton vs. Harrow match (think of the alumni!).
How to spot MCC members: The distinctive gold and red necktie (affectionately referred to as “egg and bacon”).
Faux pas: Arguing with the umpire (this is a gentleman’s game after all).
Polo
See Chapter 6, “The Season,” page 173.
Tennis
See “Tennis Clubs,” p. 150; see also “Wimbledon,” page 184.
Regal Hunting Ground #4: Tennis Clubs
The Queen’s Club, Baron’s Court, London, www.queensclub.co.uk
Featured in the Woody Allen movie Match Point, this is one of the most coveted club memberships in the UK. Named after Queen Victoria, The Queen’s Club was the first multipurpose sports complex to be built anywhere on earth and is one of the most prestigious tennis clubs in the country, if not the world.
More than anything, this club is known for hosting tournaments of a spin-off game called “racquets”—a game that is only taught at exclusive British boarding schools. Only a dozen or so courts on the planet can even facilitate racquets, and Queen’s Club has two of them.
When it comes to sports that I actually, genuinely enjoy watching—this one ranks right behind polo. The game moves so fast and the players move with such amazing, inhuman skill my heart actually pumps with excitement. (Though I’m sure the champagne helps.)
Did I mention that Queen’s also happens to have a marvelous bar? And some really cute semiprofessional players whom I may or may not have snogged in my youth? Highly, highly recommended.
The Hurlingham Club, Putney Bridge, London www.hurlinghamclub.org.uk
With a membership waiting list of sixteen years(!), this striking Georgian clubhouse is set on two acres of magnificently manicured grounds alongside the River Thames. When I first moved to London, a lovely floppy-haired Englishman (whom I happened to meet at The Queen’s Club) took me on a date to this quintessentially English paradise, and as I held his hand and entered a world of timeless elegance, I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz as she entered Munchkinland—it was that magical, and that unexpected.
Up until World War II, the club hosted all major polo events for the British Empire. Today at the Hurlingham you can watch polo, play tennis, sip Pimm’s, sun yourself by the pool, or frolic with your dog through the club’s rolling green hills. If you want to play croquet, you must wear white.
Many Englishmen (and even some Americans) have reciprocal memberships through their universities, so despite The Hurlingham’s reputation as the most exclusive private members’ club in England, it’s not as hard to get into as people think.
My favorite event? Guy Fawkes Night (November 5). There is nothing better than a grand fireworks display, hot British boys, and hot mulled wine.
Polo in the Park and the Boat Race Ball are also worth attending, as is The Hurlingham’s exclusive speed dating evening.
Parable #4
I once found myself attending a black-tie ball for a charity that provides cricket equipment to disadvantaged children. (In England it doesn’t matter if the child is starving or homeless, as long as he or she can play cricket.) I was seated at a table of rowdy rugby players and had already consumed several glasses of champagne before the first course arrived. It was salmon of some kind, yet I was so caught up in the ridiculous conversations happening around me (and so hungry, as I hadn’t had much for lunch) that I accidentally used the wrong knife. I quickly spotted my mistake after the first bite and swiftly changed knives, certain no one would notice—least of all the highly inebriated gentlemen on either side of me.
How wrong I was.
Within seconds, the broad-shouldered, floppy-haired Englishman to my right was standing up and tapping his spoon on his water glass to get the table’s attention.
“I would like to announce that the lovely American to my left has used the wrong knife,” Tarquin bellowed good-naturedly. “And for this she must be penalized!”
To atone for my mistake I was forced to chug the rest of my wine, the rest of Tarquin’s wine, and all the remaining wine in the bottle sitting in the center of our table.
As you can imagine, I have very little recollection of what happened after that. But let me tell you: I now make a point of paying close attention to the cutlery before each and every course.
And so should you.
Regal Hunting Ground #5: Formal Balls
At the turn of the century, a girl was never to be seen dancing twice with the same partner, and ladies always wore gloves on the dance floor because “flesh must never touch flesh.” These days, British balls are slightly more relaxed. They may sound like remnants from Tudor times or the age of Cinderella, but black- or white-tie balls are actually extremely popular with London’s young, professional set.
Over the years I’ve come to notice that the more formal the social event, the faster it spirals out of control. London balls actually remind me of American college formals—when, despite the glamorous dress codes, boys and girls still ended up sprawled drunkenly on the dance floor (or under the table). The fact that everyone at London balls are several years out of college doesn’t seem to change
the caliber of behavior. If anything, it’s worse. (And I mean that in the best possible way.)
What to expect: Despite the philanthropic motivations, black-tie balls can be some of the most flirty and debaucherous affairs you will find anywhere in the UK. They usually take place in well-known London hotels and include a champagne reception followed by a seated three-course dinner and a few hours of dancing. Occasions to really dress up become less and less frequent with every generation, so when the opportunity presents itself—take it!
Where to go: Gather some friends and join a table at any of the following:
The Royal Caledonian Ball (affectionately known as “the Cally”), www.royalcaledonianball.com
The Royal Caledonian Ball began as a private gathering hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Atholl for all their Scottish friends who lived in London. By 1849, still at their invitation, the dance was held to raise funds for various Scottish charities. Records show that the ball has been held annually ever since (the only exceptions being during the Boer War, directly after the death of Edward VII, and during the First and Second World Wars). The Royal Caledonian has grown into one of the highlights of the London Season and is one of the oldest charity balls in the world.
When and where: Now held every May at the Grosvenor House on Park Lane (one of the largest ballrooms in London).
Who goes: Since the days of King Edward VII, the ball has been honored with the patronage of the reigning monarch and can currently celebrate more than fifty years of patronage by HM Queen Elizabeth II.
What to wear: The dress code is white tie. Think floor-length skirts, bare arms, and diamonds. Tiaras are optional (and only if they’re real). When taking part in the Scottish Reels, ladies who are of Scottish descent should wear appropriate clan sashes. There are strict rules about this and people take it very seriously, so make sure you know what you’re doing.
Queen Charlotte’s Ball, www.londonseason.net
