Worcester Tales - A Party in the Countryside, Spring 1997

I remember a party, deep in the Worcestershire country, late spring of 1997. The party was the friend of one of my then-housemates, whom I had met before, but didn't know too well. My flatmate's boyfriend drove us there. I have vague memories of the drive; miles and miles of sunlit countryside. I've never really got the hang of parties - so many people in one place unnerve me - and I drank too much to compensate.
The house - what I can remember of it - was quite old, quite large, and in a proper rural location, and was surrounded by outsize trees that you don't get down here in Sussex. I have very few memories of the party itself, except getting increasingly more uncomfortable, and increasingly drunk (I have a vague memory of playing with an axe, and telling my housemate and then her boyfriend how they wished they would be as cool as me when they were 25).
I insisted in sleeping in my flatmate's boyfriend's car. He was quite nervous about this as he had some fear (quite reasonable as I was stupidly drunk) that I might hotwire the car and drive off. I got my way, and spent a deep, drunken night  crammed into his car. Why I didn't sleep in the house is beyond me.
Dawn came early (it was spring bordering on summer) and I woke early. There was the sound of gunshots - this was deep in farming country. I remember the bright sun on the trees, the wind blowing through the leaves like the sound of a sea. This led into an odd dream where I was living in the Worcestershire countryside, and would survive on food stolen from a house that was having an endless party.
I woke up headache-y and hangover, and shamefaced, came in for a fried breakfast.
I was very glad to get back to Worcester later that day.