This is how the ball ends, not with a bang but an 'Oh christ I am never drinking again.'

So here we are, at the end of all things (for BA3s anyway, there's quite a lot of things left for everyone else).

The venue last night was an absolute cracker, with amazing, selfie-friendly views of all of Paris, both from the roof terrace (where there was a lot of 'Ooh that's where I live'ing going on) and the function room itself which fit us all nicely. Kudos to Nick Kent for securing such a lovely place!

Top work by Josh Hannon and Joe Thompson on the drink and food, which was a really nice range of different things, and the fact that there was scarcely a crumb or a drop of either left at the end is a testament to their success.

To kick us off musically we had a set from the mostly-ULIP Black Nettles, who played us a range of sixties songs (my personal favourite being "Please Mr. Postman"), followed by speeches from Messrs Kent and Wright, with the latter following on with Sophie Small to give us some often cutting and very funny 'Most likely to's. Then, Joe Lennard, ever our resident DJ, took us home with a set that, while not strictly sixties, was most certainly strictly fab.

As you might expect though, last night was one of mixed feelings for all we third years. It was such good fun to get absolutely blathered with a lot of great people exquisitely dressed and dolled up (top work on that score to everyone) but it was sad too. Sad because this is the end, all too soon we'll be out in the fuck-I-actually-have-to-get-a-job world and away from this kind of communal merrymaking, at least till we come back for our ten-year reunion (I expect it to be just as messy). All the same, I'm happy to look back on 3 years well-spent in the company of a thoroughly good bunch.

My night ended in a fashion I thought to be apt. Just the stragglers and the clean-up team were left, sat on the steps outside the Tour Montparnasse, eating the remainder of the oranges that we didn't use for the cocktails when a couple of them started to roll down the steps and carried on till they were some way clear of the bottom of the steps.

You might say that these oranges were emblematic of this being the mark of our passage away from childhood. That would be silly though. They're oranges.

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