A most charming and generous
chap frequents The Station Pub in Wivenhoe. His favourite pursuit on a Sunday, early
evening, is to stroll into the
bar and buy the entire pub (especially if it's full of females) Zambuccas. The clientele embraces this largesse with abandon: Zambuccas downed in
one, pronto. Often unsuspecting tourists are informed that it is
said gent's "birthday" in order to facilitate their willlingness to hurl themselves like Lemmings into their forthcoming total inebriation. As soon as the first round is consumed, said gent buys another round and the clientele
chuck the next one down their necks. This continues for several hours until the entire pub is in utter carnage. At which point said gent (also known as The Zambucca Fairy) chuckles to himself , says "goodnight turnips" and leaves. If you are ever in The Station on a Sunday and you manage to make it home without an ambulance, you
haven't been properly "Stolleried".
