The Golden Mile

Have you ever seen The World’s End with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost? It’s a hilarious movie part of the Cornetto trilogy—a random title given to a series of films also including Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.

Anyway, the plot of the film is relatively simple. In small town England, five men return to their childhood home which is famous for a 12-stop bar crawl entitled “The Golden Mile.” They plot to do what they couldn’t as high-schoolers: finish The Mile to completion.

Before I begin, know that I don’t condone underage or excessive drinking. I do, however, condone great stories and learning through mistakes.


Rules: “The Golden Mile”

  • All 12(!!!) bars must be visited on the same night.
  • All participants must finish one full pint of beer at each pub.
  • All plans for the following day should be canceled.
  • All dignity and self-respect should be left at home.

My Experience

Obviously, I tried my own version of The Mile with a few friends.

I was living in a small University town at the time and Halloween was right around the corner. Luckily, this little island city had slightly more than 12 establishments where alcohol could be purchased on any given night.

But wait—before you embark on your own voyage to the world of alcohol poisoning and liver failure, take my advice.


  • Purchase an up-to-date bus pass. I’m pretty sure the script for Dumb and Dumber 3 centres around Harry and Lloyd’s attempt to drive their dog van from bar to bar during The Mile. 
  • Bring cash. The paper kind. If done properly, this voyage will cost around $100 in alcohol and transportation costs.
  • Wear an elaborate costume. It doesn’t matter if it’s Halloween. A well-chosen costume will produce 15 to 20% more unforgettable memories.
  • Eat. All Golden Mile participants should consume their body-weight in rice and pasta throughout the day leading up to The Mile.
  • Start early. Begin just before happy hour. I started at 8pm, which forced fast, hard drinking and turned time into a powerful enemy. If the last bar closes before you arrive, you lose.
  • Live for the story. 

Anyway, Happy October 30th, 2013

Bar 1

Intoxi-meter: 3%. I’m not a big partier/drinker, so the Alexander Keith’s Pale Ale is swallowed more out of thirst than wanderlust.

Bar 2

Intoxi-meter: 7%. An overcrowded bus ride helps fight boredom and allows us to re-focus. 11 to go. That Stella tastes somethin’ good.

Bar 3

Intoxi-meter: 12%. I don’t mean to hate—but Fat Tug isn’t my favourite beer. Whatever, adversity—the taste of success should drown out that bitterness soon.

Bar 4

Intoxi-meter: 16%. One friend is already questioning their alcohol-related abilities. Some beer-related convincing helps the group soak up some Molson.

Bar 5

Intoxi-meter: 22%. Took a gamble—accompanied my beer with a shot of whisky. I begin to sense my stomach’s had enough of this sh!t.

Bar 6

Inxtoxi-meter: 29%. Starting to hit some of the busier spots in town. Must remain focused. We lose a man to the toilet.

Bar 7

Intoxi-meter: 35%. Beer’s lost it’s appeal. I’m full of nothing but liquid and determination. I allegedly bump a waitress on my way out the door.

Bar 8

Intoxi-meter: Anywhere between 43-55%. Blurriness increasing. Common sense decreasing. Visit the rest room for some R&R with Mr. Pi$$ed-off stomach. Not clear if I finish a pint of anything.

Bar 9

Intoxi-meter: 60%(?). Apparently, it’s only me and one buddy remaining. The other 3 left an hour ago. I question both my leadership skills and ability to stomach this Pilsner.

Bar 10

Intoxi-meter: Walking Dead-inspired. Was denied service at a small hotel bar. Even worse, I’ve lost my cardboard wolverine claws. I catch a cab home.

The Verdict

Yup, I failed. My hangover ensures that I’m very, very sorry about that. After learning about the pile of commitments and confessions I made the previous night, the morning turns into a day-long zombie impersonation.

I weigh about 175 lbs., or about 12.5 Stones for my English friends, so 12 pints in a night was too much for my 22-year-old frame over such a short time-period.

If you decide to partake, tread carefully and understand you won’t be impressing anyone for the next 24 hours.


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(Insert witty and equally thought-provoking sign off here)

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