Whose To Blame For The World’s Worst Hangover?

When we both moved to London within a few days of each other back in September, my friend Marge and I both experienced completely opposite reactions to the London air.

It is well-known that London has the absolute worse air quality in the UK – and probably ranks up there as one of the most polluted cities in the world too. Newcomers complain of headaches, dizziness and nausea – Marge exhibited all three.

But I had none of these symptoms. (Probably because Toronto air quality is worse than Montreal’s, so I had become acclimatized to a certain level of pollution.) Instead, I got a nice blend of the big three when I woke up with my first British hangover.

Now, I am no stranger to the hangover. We are very well acquainted, he and I; maybe even a little too close, in fact. And, of course, the older I get (29 yesterday), the worse the hangovers are. So perhaps my brutal mornings-after over here are just an indication that I am too old to be drinking to excess – or binge-drinking, as the experts prefer to call it.

Though people do drink a great amount in North America, this type of behaviour is very, very prevalent over here. A poll in 2009 of the entire continent found that the UK has the third-highest number of teenagers with an alcohol problem in 35 countries. And a study conducted the same year found that it’s not just the young’uns with the difficulty: more than a third of British adults drink over the safe daily alcohol limit.

There are many reasons for this, of course, but I think the most likely cause of a typical Friday night turning into a drunken disaster is the early pub-culture that characterizes the country. In Toronto, when I go out to a bar on the weekend, I usually venture out well after 11PM, often even later. But you will be hard-pressed to find a pub even open at that time in London. Revelers hit the pub as soon as they leave the office and throw back beer and mixed drinks and shots until the place closes down. Usually, this binge-drinking takes place on an empty stomach, which exaggerates the consequences. An early drinker may get home before midnight (that is, if they manage to catch the right train or avoid passing out in the street), but they will certainly still feel the effects in the morning (I can attest to this).

But let’s return to my investigation into the culprit(s) of the worst hangovers of my life. The aging theory has been likely disproved by the fact that mere days had passed between my last typical hangover in Toronto and the hell I encountered one morning in my first week in London.

I started doing some research. I usually stick to gin and tonics or red wine, not to mention the occasional beer. I thought that, by comparing the proofs of these liquors as they are available in Canada and in the UK, I would find a startling disparity.

But Gordon’s London Dry Gin, which was mixed with tonic water for the first time in 1858, seems to be available at roughly the same proof in Canada as it is in the UK. A 750ml bottle of gin in Canada has a proof of 40%. A 700ml bottle in London has a 37.5% proof. A 2008 Cabernet Sauvignon that I’ve become quite fond of – because it costs £5.99 at most off-licenses – contains 13.5% alcohol in a 750ml bottle, but a similarly-sized cab sauv in Canada is also 13.5% proof. The proof was proving my theory wrong.

Next I looked at my beer consumption, convinced I would prove my theory there. Now, once you’ve spent time with a flavourful golden ale, a sweet and malty strong ale or a well-hopped English bitter, there is no returning to Canada’s well-intentioned Keiths, Molsons and Sleemans – no matter how proud you are of your homegrown lagers.

But besides the delicious taste of home-brewed British beers, the alcohol proof is not any higher. Across the world, a typical bottle or pint of beer ranks between 3% and 12%. In Canada, that lovely green long-necked Keiths offers a proof of 5%, the average for Canadian-brewed lagers and pilsners. My favourite bitters and ales in the UK come in about the same, often even below 5%.

So I guess I can’t place the blame for my cruel hangovers on the alcohol proofs in my beverages of choice. I suspect some of the responsibility falls on my habit of rounding off the night with a glass or two of neat whiskey. But my love for the Scottish liquid gold is a topic for another day.

And this brings me around full circle. I’ve asked around, trying to identify the guilty party, and many have mentioned that perhaps it is my reaction to the pollution in London. Instead of noticing the poor air quality on an average Tuesday afternoon, I feel the pain – in combination with my alcohol-induced headaches – on a Saturday or Sunday morning (okay, afternoon).

Whether one perpetrator is to blame or whether it’s simply a blending of all the details mentioned above, I’m not convinced that the mystery has been solved. But I must leave off for the day and take my focus away from alcohol and hangovers. I only just recovered from yesterday’s masterpiece and I don’t think I could survive a relapse.