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".
