One of these points is a lie. Guess which one it is:
(Oh, and don’t read this if you are eating, about to eat or have just eaten. I thought I should warn you.)
1. Last night I went out for dinner in Heidelberg.
2. I met Ash in Amsterdam, who I have known via our blogs for nearly two years, and she is just as fabulous as I imagined.
3. I recognised her the minute I saw her, but we nearly didn’t meet because she and her partner couldn’t find the restaurant and I, as usual, didn’t have my phone on me.
4. After dinner, we decided to show Ash and M the underworld of Heidelberg and progressed to the Untergasse, a street of bars and restaurants.
5. My husband’s favourite bar, Destille, was full with groups of people spilling out onto the street. There were at least four stag and hen parties celebrating there. The atmosphere was lively.
6. We were standing outside, holding our drinks and chatting, when I felt something warm splash against my legs.
7. I looked and it was vomit! My legs and my gorgeous pink satin shoes were splashed with puke!
8. I turned to see who had done it. It was a guy wearing a “Germany’s Next Top Husband” T-shirt. He wiped his mouth, turned back to his group, which included a guy wearing a backpack, and carried on drinking.
9. I said to Ash, “Germany’s Next Top Husband just puked on my legs. I am so blogging this.” We laughed. Then we left.
10. When we got home, my darling husband sponged another man’s vomit off my pink satin shoes, even though he doesn’t like them and would prefer to see them confined to the bin. Clearly I am already married to Germany’s Top Husband.
**** Edited to add ****
Number 8 is the lie! The person who puked on my legs and shoes was the guy in the backpack, but you can’t spoil a good story and it HAD to be Germany’s Next Top Husband. I am a journalist after all. Also, I might add that Ash caught some of it on her shoes and trousers, so we are now blog sisters – puked on during our first-ever meeting.