Friday, July 04, 2008

 

Day 9

"I can recommend a nice little Israeli wine from the Golan Heights" says our waiter in the old Jewish quarter of Krakow. Does he mean the same Golan Heights that used to be in Syria we wonder? Wow, so faith really can move mountains. Is that what the wine buffs mean when they talk about a cheeky little wine? We settle on a nice bottle of South African, but we do go with his recommendation for Jewish dumplings as a starter, which turns out to be a very good one.

Talking of alcohol, which is all I'm allowed to do with it now on weekdays, it's Day 9 of The Plan and it's going something like this:

Positives:
I've kept to the rules and drunk only the amount allowed on the days allowed.

My loved one is dead impressed and has cut down his own drinking, which is also good for him (we stopped off at our local bar last night and had a coffee).

I've lost three pounds.

Negatives:
Only 1, but it's a big one. The you will have no desire for a drink goal that seemed so easy at the start is now swaying hazily in the distance. When the hypnotist told me to savour my wine, I think she had in mind the glass in my hand that I'm allowed, rather than the imagined one in my head that I'm not, but, like forbidden fruit, is always tantalisingly near.

And still on our recent trip to Krakow, we were in a restaurant with a large party of Portuguese at one end of the room who'd hired a group of folk dancers to entertain them, so we got a free floor show. Why is it that no matter what instruments the group's playing, what they're wearing or how high or fast girls and sticks are twirled, from black waistcoated gypsy girls and pink-striped pyjama bottomed men in Poland to bell-kneed Morris dancers in England, after five minutes they all look and sound exactly the same and the fleeting delight you experience from such merriment quickly turns into a sincere desire for it to stop - right now?

Comments:
I thought that was just me!
 
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