Propping up a dodgy memory

I remember the first time we went to the Sydney Mardi Gras, stayed right in the heart of the city and spent the entire night cheering till we were hoarse, running amuck amongst the happy and beautiful people filled with the delight of themselves and their activism. I remember that we ended up in some strange little all night cafe eating apple pie for breakfast, contemplating whether we wanted to go back to the hotel to sleep, or continue the adventure - every minute we lingered was a shared moment of never wanting the experience to end.