The sheer awesomeness of a great trip does not lie in the fondly remembered incidents.
It was not born a moment, hurrying down 80 ft. road at midnight, knowing your friends are creating a pandemonium in the vicinity.
It did not depend on being cheered, greeted and bodily lifted and hugged by people who are more family, than friends.
It did not evolve because of sitting on the kitchen counter at 2 am, sharing a meal and beer, hearing people talking and laughing in every room.
It needed no help from unbelievably desultory brunches on a gloriously salubrious day.
It almost became about finally acknowledging the pub of all pubs.
It was not accentuated by swapping hilariously nostalgic stories in the dead of night.
You understand that the great trip has happened when you find yourself with friends at dawn...
All bleary-eyed and dishevelled
All flying off in different directions
All wondering why the weekend seemed to last just a heartbeat.
But what a heartbeat!
Song for the moment: On every street - Dire Straits