Thursday, 26 May 2011

In praise of Chilean wine.

Seriously, these people know how to make wine. Stop me if I've already mentioned it, but two bottles of red were waiting for me when I moved in to the apartment building, and they were both superb. If you come across the Santa Rita vineyard, aim for a bottle of Medalla Real; you will not be disappointed...

Working with Chileans is a joy: they're intelligent, keen, open and uncomplicated; at least, those I've had the good fortune to meet so far are. The pretty girls at Starlight Coffee now know my order and have asked me where I'm from. It's strange; the little shop has one of the best locations in the centre, in a leafy pedestrian area next to the beautiful Teatro Municipal, but seems to be no more than a secret tip, a bit like my little lunch counter place over the way from my yoga class in Toulouse. I'm not complaining; there's always a table to sit at, watch the world go by and realise I'm sitting there without a cigarette in my mouth. That still feels strange, too; this is the first time in my adult life that I've ever been on my own as a non-smoker. That might sound pretty bland, but it makes me realise how much the weed determined my life. In some ways it still does, I suppose, otherwise I wouldn't be mentioning it, now. The desire to smoke when I first went out was overwhelming but, curiously, was not difficult to resist.

Tomorrow I'll post a few pictures so you can see what a lucky bastard I am to be here. The only downside is that the TV is shit, not that I'm any great fan of it anyway, but still. Maybe there'll be a football match I can tune into, tonight.

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