A colourful weekend, from the disturbingly familiar yellow of the single experimentally bought bottle of vodka red square lager (yes - that's all in the same bottle, kids!), to the cool glowing blue lights of a funky city bar, to the pale cream rotundas in the ceilings of the magnificent country manor club we (somehow) ended up in, all the way through to the reddish tinge to our eyes on Sunday morning.
There were a respectable number of bars, a respectable number of drinks, a delightful amount of small talk, laughter and just the right amount of post-break up buddy chat, all leading inexorably to a few hours of dancing that was anything but respectable.
Sunday included espresso, bacon and egg toasted sandwiches, home-made chilli, more espresso, Playstation 2, lounging luxuriously, films and music.
So goddamned stylish.
A good weekend.
I was unable to keep in touch with the rest of the civilised world in much the style I had wanted to over the weekend because I was a little challenged in the telephonic department.
The first sign that all was not well in my little phone's head was this:
I feel a strange affinity with it.
Café de los Sueños
High Peruvian peaks with mist rolling in gorges down the terraces of beans...
Whether you want your beans ground with the molars of a llama, roasted over the Tierra del Fuego or served with a side order of Amazonian Fruitbat fillets, The Coffee Shop Of Your Very Dreams will be serving coffee on a South American theme.
What will you be having?
Orders please!
Para mi, un espresso grande, por favor.
Por sepuesto, Senorita.
Er... gies a coffee, mucker!
I'll not bother with the fruitbat fillets though, all those seeds get stuck between my teeth.
After two hours on a train with no heating this morning, I quickly regained the blue tinge from Saturday night. I'll be on the terrace trying to thaw my toes out, if you'd be so good as to bring out me a steaming hot Columbian. Muchas Gracias.
After the weekend of rushing around and packing that I've just had and a very poor night's sleep last night I really need something to keep me awake until I get home.
I don't really care what, as long as it keeps my eyes open for the next few hours.
oh, i'm going to have to go with a caramel latte, because baby, it's cold outside, and a nice sweet milky drink is the next best thing to a roaring fire.
Just out of interest, can everyone else still see the picture of my in-denial mobile, or it a wee red cross in a box?
querido, slide a carioca this way... that's brasilian for an espresso with half-a-shot of hot water in it. saude!
Pray tell, where did you end up drinking in grand old Londinium?