DEBAUCHERY in BIRMINGHAM | Oxford | The Birmingham Brothers | A surprise proposal?????

OUR NEXT STOP on the Euro Road Trip—Birmingham. But first, Oxford! Because no self-respecting traveler barrels through this cursed island without a pitstop in the land of ancient academia, overpriced pints, and more than a few good artists milling about the streets. Yes, Oxford, where the history drips off the cobblestones like the sweat off your back after one too many stouts in a pub that dates back to a time when people still believed the earth was flat.

Naturally, we met other artists on the road—kindred spirits who were just as lost and wandering as we were. And, of course, the pubs called to us like sirens luring sailors to their doom. You can’t just stroll through Oxford; no, you have to stumble through it, a pint in one hand, your dignity clinging by a thread in the other (not literally, but you know what I mean.) We soaked in the charm and the madness before setting our sights on the night ahead—Birmingham, the next stop on this wild carousel ride we’re calling a road trip.

Birmingham. What a town. Surprisingly, not one “Peaky Blinders” reference from us the entire night. We knew better than to trot out that tired cliché; we could practically feel the eyes of every local rolling back in their skulls at the mere mention of it. Tourist suicide, plain and simple.

But then came the Birmingham Brothers—two locals who sized us up like Vegas novelties they couldn’t quite believe were real. You see, when you’re from Vegas, the world has some warped idea that you’ve been handpicked by Bacchus himself to lead all-night parties, that you’re somehow wired differently, immune to the ravages of hangovers and sleep deprivation. "Show us how it's done, Vegas style!" they said, as if there’s some mystical formula for endless debauchery. Spoiler alert: there isn’t. But we gave it our best shot, indulging them as honorary disciples of Sin City for the night.

And then, in the middle of it all, something even more surreal happened. Did she just propose?! Yes, in the chaos of a night that was already off the rails, a spontaneous marriage proposal unfolded in front of us. A moment so bizarre it felt like it was plucked from the fever dream of a screenplay writer hopped up on too much Red Bull and bad decisions.

Eighteen hours. We were in Birmingham for less than a day. But those 18 hours felt like an eternity—a whirlwind of laughter, misadventure, and moments we’d carry with us forever. A night that stretched and warped time, leaving us with the distinct feeling that maybe, just maybe, this was the point of the whole trip: to cram a lifetime of experience into fleeting moments, to collect memories like scars.

Then, as quickly as it began, we were off again—this time to Bristol. But not before another pit stop, naturally. And what do you know, there was a giraffe. Yes, a giraffe—because of course there was. This trip was nothing if not absurd.

Drive Safe!

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