It is a long time since I stumbled out of a nightclub or tent into dawn’s first light.

It all came back yesterday when I went for an early morning run and found clubland’s flotsam and jetsum staggering into the new day like outtakes from a George Romero movie.

It’s always easy to spot when someone is dolled up to the nines at 5am or staggering around with their fright wig and war paint still on.

I passed one guy sitting in the middle of a football pitch talking earnestly to himself. He asked if a bus was due soon and I gently pointed to the road about a mile away. The other person was walking down the road trying to hop scotch between the cat’s eye. And the drugs don’t work?

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