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Alcohol, Just say When!, maybe?

Britain's binge-drinkers, as anybody unfortunate enough to encounter them in full flow will know, can be a repellent bunch. After downing bucket loads of alcohol they spill onto the streets on Friday and Saturday nights to vomit, brawl and bare their chests. The men are pretty awful, too.

Some would argue that today's binge-drinkers are merely following an ancient tradition. The Vikings, for instance, liked a bit of rape and pillage but also had a penchant for getting legless after a good slaughter.

And, as if they needed any excuse, here is the festive season.

Thankfully, I am here not there. So, praise the lord and pass the um - well, let's pause and consider.

During the past few weeks in Thailand , most of us have alcohol pressed on us at unusual times and unusual places. We have been invited to drink before lunch, at lunch, after work and at work. There will be parties that start before dinner and carry on after dinner, but do not involve dinner. If you don't usually drink much, the festive season is bound to be a bit of a trial. If you drink heavily all year round, then this is the event you've been training for.

The key to surviving is strategy. Although it may not seem like it, you do have choices, especially with regards to drinks. Whenever possible, accept only the following:

Wine: my knowledge of wine is like my knowledge of chess. I know the moves but I don't care about the game.

Red wine: standard issue, festive colored Christmas beverage. You know where you are with it, as a telltale maroon crust along your upper lip informs you when you've had enough. Very clever. Who thought of that?

White wine: a pale and inferior alternative to red wine, unless the red wine has run out, in which case its every bit as good, maybe better.

Beer: this low-alcohol wine-substitute has been around for centuries. Its mysterious bladder-swelling properties regulate intake automatically.

Bloody Mary's: far and away the most nutritious of festive drinks, the bloody Mary contains no less then two of the four basic food groups, if you count vodka as a grain. And I do. As a large part of the festive season revolves drinking in the day, the bloody Mary represents a nice compromise between cocktail and breakfast.

Whisky: take only for medicinal purposes, and after your mother in law has gone to bed.

Water: while technically non-alcoholic, water is extremely refreshing. It's also free on tap in most up market hotel toilets, and while you're there you can rest your forehead on the nice, cool floor tiles.

Stick with these basics and you should feel fine around January 12th.

The following, however, present problems:

Champagne : a glass or two is fine, but if it doesn't run out after that, it's best to switch to something else as soon as possible. Remarkably, champagne can give you a hangover while you're still drinking it. And if your champagne seems darker than usual and has a sugar cube dissolving in the bottom of it, put it down straight away. Someone is trying to drug you.

Cider: Wonderful stuff. The only downside of being intoxicated with good quality cider is that your legs go wobbly. You come out of the pub feeling like a cross between Aristotle and Attila the Hun, and you fall over. But if you are intent on behaving badly, this is the stuff to do it on.

Punch: suffice to say that most punch is a combination of things you wouldn't drink on their own, which produce appalling side affects when mixed. If you feel you must have some punch, try to drink it early on, before the person who makes it gets drunk.

Mulled wine: you probably won't find it over here anyway, which is good, as you're not meant to drink it. It's a cold climate decoration, like holly. In fact, it's poisonous.

Gin: too much will make you maudlin, and therefore boring company.

Sherry: for dead aunts.

Cocktails: put it this way, peering into the glass tank in a so-hi priced restaurant about eight years ago, I had to look twice before confirming that the parrotfish propelling himself lugubriously round the enclosure had only one eye, having feared at first it was the second El Dorado Thunderbird cocktail getting to me. But when I queried the fish's condition with the Italian manager there was not a moment's hesitation: “Oh, no worry, Sir, he lost it in the war,” and I was already woozled enough to ask him which one.

Cocktails look pretty and colorful and are therefore lethal. But if you are between 18 and 25 and can easily quaff 17 shots with “kaze” on the end of them, the following afternoon you will just be able to belly-surf down the stairs and into the kitchen looking for anything that might stop the headache, severe hydration, nausea and blindness. And, while we're at it, -never- mix the grape with the grain.

Rum under another name. Mix it with soda. Share it with your driver.

Zippo fuel under another name. Explosive. Don't stand up too fast, or you will sink like an anchor.

Sake: It's the only alcoholic drink I ever consider turning down on the grounds that it tastes like a mixture of hot spit and Windex. However, the fact that it's most often served in those bafflingly tiny cups is a testament to its importance as a social lubricant. Japanese custom places value on refilling your companion's cups. Smaller cups: more good fellowship.

Madeira : an old person's island and an old person's drink. The island was discovered accidentally in 1419 by Goncalves Zarco, whom I suspect of having bumped into a lot of places by accident given that he was known as Zarco the Cross-Eyed.

Absinthe: More nausea and blindness. In the 19th century absinthe was a liqueur with alcohol, wormwood (in Greek - absinthian-) and anise as essential ingredients. It had an alcohol level of up to 75 per cent. The addition of water to the emerald liquid freed plant oils suspended in the alcohol and made it a cloudy pale green drink, an effect known as “louching”. Many dreamy hours were spent in observing this magical process taking place in a glass. Absinthe had a part in the creation of the French overseas empire in North Africa and Indo-China when it was used as a disinfectant and anti-malarial by the troops.

Absinthe-quaffing art critic Theodore Pelloquet, who was never without an absinthe until he died at 48, was half paralyzed and able only to say “abs” Some of his grieving friends chose to assume that he was calling for absolution.

Drinks with Christmassy names: never order anything called I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Clause, a Lapland Express or a Frankincense Flip. More often than not it's just a kamikaze with a umbrella stuck in it.

It's not enough to restrict ourselves to certain types of drink. We must also prepare for dangerous events.

The office Christmas parties range in size from lunches striving to be a creepy simulacrum of the Christmas Day meal - complete with turkey and Christmas hats - to a large night-club take-over sponsored by some new brand of vodka.

Other people's office parties: only masochists go to these things. If you are merely a client, customer or contract supplier, you can probably get away without making an appearance, since no one really knows who you are anyway. If you feel you must attend, remove all your business cards from your wallet before you drink yourself into a stupor.

Elsewhere: at the end of every Christmas party, there is small contingent making hasty plans to go “elsewhere”, usually to night club or another party to which none of the of the group has been invited. If you are part of this contingent, then you already stayed too long at the first party.

Have fun, but remember this:

The late and much lamented English columnist Jeffrey Bernard, who suffered from a lifelong weakness for horses, women and drink - and it was the alcohol that killed him - sent a letter to The London Times which read: “I have been asked to write my autobiography and would grateful if anyone could tell me what I was doing between 1960 and 1974.”

By Roger Beaumont

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