“By half-past one the last drop of pleasure had evaporated, leaving nothing but headaches. We perceived we were not splendid inhabitants of a splendid world, but a crew of underpaid workmen grown squalidly and dismally drink. We went on swallowing the wine, but it was only from habit, and the stuff seemed suddenly nauseating. One’s head had swollen up like a balloon, the floor rocked, one’s tongue and lips were stained purple. At last, it was no use keeping it up any longer. Several men went into the yard behind the bistro and were sick. We crawled up to bed, tumbled down half dressed, and stayed there ten hours.”
George Orwell, “Down and Out in Paris and London”, 1933.
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 