Stag nights. Now the stag night is a totally invented tradition. But that’s ok, so are lots of basically good things like Christmas cards and Scottish tartans. And I suppose come to that, so ultimately are weddings, Christmas and Scotland. Every tradition having to start somewhere after all. So I’ve nothing against the non-traditional traditional stag night. The groom and some men he knows getting either joyfully or maudlinly drunk in a pub together, depending on the coldness of the groom’s feet. But of course that’s not how stag nights are anymore. Nowadays there’s always an activity involved. Generally paint-balling, quad biking or something else in which the groom has had absolutely no prior interest. And indeed has probably never done before, except at other people’s stag nights. And it’s not an evening anymore, it’s a weekend. And it’s certainly not in the local pub, or the place nearest to the middle of where all the invitees live. It’s in bloody Tallinn. I have nothing against Tallinn, and nothing for Tallinn. I barely know where Tallinn is. But if I wanted to go on holiday there, or to Prague, or Las Vegas, or wherever else, I’d organize it for myself and probably, lovely chaps though I’m sure they are, I wouldn’t elect to go with ten other men, two of whom I know quite well, three of whom are acquaintances, and five of whom I’ve never met, but are old friends of one of the ones I know quite well. That’s a weird holiday dynamic. When you invite people to a stag or hen night like that, unless I suppose you’re offering to pay for everyone, you’re essentially asking for everyone to take and pay for a not particularly bargain break in celebration of you. And we’re already coming to your wedding. The problem lies in the arrogance of trying to be unique. Now that not everyone simply goes to the pub, the pressure is on each new groom to prove his wedding, and by extension he himself, are so special that only ten days white water rafting in a paddle steamer crewed by strippers can adequately reflect it. Whereas, of course it doesn’t work like that. If you’re boring, no amount of high-speed water prostitution will save you. If you’re not, then a night in the pub with your friends will be great. This is only a brief personal note to my friends Mike, Peter, Chris and Robert Webb. Obviously, I’m not talking about your dos, they were the exceptions that proved the rule I had a brilliant time, Tallinn’s great.