Friday, 30 April 2010

Panama City, Thursday night

21:05. This bites. Walked round to the jazz place and it was deserted and had three staff members on the door. I bailed. There are a few wanky looking bars in Av Central between the hostel and the jazz place. (Oh, it was a short but dark two block walk from the hostel to Av Central which wasn't much fun.)

I am down First Arte at a table it the street, drinking a USD2.50 (plus tip of course) 330ml bottle of Balboa. This is shit.

The guide book says the 'joy' of Panama is wandering about and discovering bars, so it lists about four in the entire city. No idea how I'm supposed to know where to wander.

One of the four or so is that jazz place, another is some British style place in the centre. I was going to make do with the bars here but I'm not paying USD2.50 a bottle to be somewhere I don't like if I can possibly do any better. So I think I will have this and try the British bar.

The guide book helpfully suggests bars shut here at 10pm though except Fri/Sat. But it says that for the country as a whole and sort of implies Panama City is not like that but isn't very clear.

It should only cost a few dollars each way in the cab according to the guide book, so I might as well waste my money on cabs as on overpriced beer.

OK, USD2.50 isn't London prices for bottles, but since you have to drink bottles here, you can compare it to London draught lager prices, and I make three quid a pint to be USD2.6, near enough. So yes, I think it's expensive. If I can get a basic but acceptable meal for USD4 as well, that seems crap.

Oh well, let me stop writing this crap, drink this beer (which will take all of two minutes, three if I try to go slow) and pay up and see if I can find a cab driver who knows where 'Avenida 3B Sur' is...

21:50. What a fucking performance.

Cabs with drivers in are like hen's teeth round Casco Viejo. What gives in such a touristy area?

After about five or ten minutes I saw one and hailed it. The driver said he knew the street and it would be USD5. I thought that might be a bit high, but I don't know, and I was hardly in a position to turn him down.

I told him the name of the bar (El Pavo Real). Long story short, he pulled up twice to ask people about the bar and even phoned someone. I am not sure he even knew where the street was. We might have finally reached it, though I am dubious, and some guy on the street had not heard of the place.

He then mentioned bars of Calle Uruguay, which I had an idea were and sounded from his description are like clubs. I had seen 'The Londoner' pub when we first pulled up at Calle 5 B (fuck knows why) so I said I'd pay him 10 and to take me back there. I didn't want to pay him fucking double but after he'd had all this fucking performance and I was feeling a bit uncomfortable I just wanted out.

I am down The Londoner now. It doesn't exactly bite but it's nibbling my ear slightly. Mostly empty of course. Still, it is only USD3 for a probable half litre of exactly the same beer (but on draught).

I saw some other place round the corner, there are quite a few bars here, I will have this and fuck off there.

FUCK. I just saw something scuttling on the floor (I am INSIDE) and thought it was a cockroach. No. It was a fucking big spider. The sort of size you might see in the UK but you would say it was pretty big by UK standards. I just moved tables (it was maybe a metre from my foot, and I have a big hole in my right shoe too...).

Fuck man. I hope this is just a random glitch but that is not an encouraging sight. It worries me about the prospects here. I suppose it could happen anywhere but this is only my second day here (less really) and I don't know what the local fauna is like.

I don't think I have ever seen a spider in a London pub. A mouse once.

Trying to forget that and give some general impressions of the city while I swig heavily at my beer prior to departure...

At the table next to me at the earlier bar were a group of late middle aged Americans. I gather they were ex-pats. "I prefer the rainy season, there are no tourists, I can go on the golf course and not see another golfer."

There are groups of cops riding round the bar-y bit of Casco Viejo in golf cart/airport people shuttle sort of cars. There is a tourist police station down towards Plaza Francia.

As we were driving out of the area, a vaguely A-team style black van pulled out in front of us with about 10 armed police stood *outside* it hanging onto the roof and presumably standing on some sort of narrow footrests on the three rearmost sides.

I guess this is quite cool and shows they are taking possible problems in the area seriously. But it is also a bit odd. Right now I am far more worried about fucking spiders than robbery, HHOS.

I think and gather from the guide book the centre is generally OK. There are lots of people round here so I have no major fear of getting mugged or struggling to get a cab back.

The pavements seem a mixture of nonexistent and blocked by cars, railings and motorbikes on my brief lost sweary wander after getting out of the cab and trying to find this place. I wasn't desperately after a British bar but since that had been the original plan and I had seen this one when we first stopped in the cab I figured I would come here if I could see it.

Oh, I knew from my earlier wanderings there was a kind of taxi rank not far north up Av Central, but some bits of the street were a bit deserted even down in that bar area further south and I didn't like to push my luck wandering up there.

Jesus, I still haven't got over that spider. I don't expect that in a city and I think what really gets to me is that we're inside. Well inside, not just inside a door to a garden. I can sort of handle seeing the buggers outdoors, they aren't "my problem" then as long as we keep our distance from each other. It's indoors that it becomes up close and personal.

And yes, I know indoor and outdoor spiders are largely different varieties. I like the implications of that even less. ;-)

Fuckety fuck fuck. I am overreacting and am exaggerating a little for effect but my skin is crawling slightly when I think about it.

The at least as big ones I saw at Iguazu Falls were not this bad. I was only visiting for the day. And they weren't moving either, even though one was equally close to me.

Maybe I should try to move my flight to Mexico forward by, oh, a week and a half. :-) I hope this doesn't get out of control. It gives me doubts about going to parts of Mexico somehow.

I am just thinking too much about this. Nearly necked the beer so I will finish it off and as long as the bastard doesn't try an ambush as I walk out I will see if I can forget about it. It's 22:10.

22:15. (Not five mins, more like two. But I round the times so as not to appear too anal.) Round the corner at Habib's Lounge Fusion Cafe, complete with Johnnie Walker logo on the sign.

Just got a 330ml bottle of Balboa (without even a glass) which I suspect is going to cost me at least USD2.50. I perhaps stupidly waved the menu away and entered beer negotiations straight away. Another lesson - I really should make a point of not doing that, even if it wastes time.

I am sat on a large and maybe 70% full terrace outside. I have my feet up on the table 'base' (as I did at The Londoner, which to be honest I will probably never go back to because of that, irrational as it may seem - it wasn't that promising anyway, honestly) but I do oddly feel a bit better even though/because I'm outside.

Oh, the taxi driver when describing the Calle Uruguay bars said they had everything - "blah, blah, love, blah". I don't know if this was mostly English or Spanish (I was functioning at 75% efficiency on Spanish comprehension) but he definitely said 'love' in English. And that was what really tipped me definitively away from not going there, though I already wasn't keen. The last thing I want right now is to end up in some wankily pretentious club paying to get in, maybe even ending up in a clip joint, or failing that having lets-say-dancers-as-I-cant-think-of-a-better-word hassling me.

Maybe he just meant there are women there and in principle at least you can pull, but I think he'd have said 'women' if that was what he meant.

I may visit Calle Uruguay for the experience at some point (then again, since I ditched the BA club idea, I may very well not) but if I do it will be after looking up somewhere suitable in my guide book and (after the Pavo Real fiasco - I really do suspect it doesn't exist any more, given the number of people the driver asked and who clearly weren't telling him "yeah, it's down there" only for him to lie to me :-) ) checking on the web. I'm not taking pot luck with the city's clubbing district given my general aversion to clubs and particularly when I don't speak the language.

I haven't touched my beer yet. Why the fuck can't they do draught? I fuckling hate drinking 330ml bottles even if they aren't overpriced, as I strongly suspect these are.

The one consolation is I withdrew a wodge in that shopping area of Av Central post-KFC (the taxi rip off yesterday and my hostel bill this morning swallowed up enough of my airport withdrawal that after hiding a bit away I was far too low for comfort) so unless they are charging USD50 for a beer I can at least meet my liabilities. But to be honest I'm not loving Panama City much so far.

Oh, Casco Viejo is a mix of (presumably) restored colonialish buildings which are gorgeous, and absolute crumbling wrecks, and just about everything in between. The guide book says this is part of the charm and although maybe it's the power of suggestion, I can sort of see it. Nonetheless, during my pre-food foray this morning with my mind coloured by fear, the word 'slum' was a frequent mental visitor. I was exaggerating and I do think the guide book has a point (I read that when I popped back to the hostel to drop my fleece off and reorient myself) but however you view it, the contrast is amazing. It's not as if one block is done up and the next isn't. Pristine buildings can have neighbours with no windows and what looks like half the interior walls down and maybe no roof. I may be exaggerating slighty and that extreme contrast may not be common, but it isn't far off that. I snapped as many photos as I dared to try to show the contrast but I don't think I have a single photo which
shows it really well. Even with my diminished fear I don't feel too comfortable whipping the camera out.

On the note the buses are freaky (in a cool way) but since I've only seen them in the populous shopping area bit so far I didn't like to get the camera out. The guide book hints at it - saying they are called 'red devils' locally - but doesn't really prepare you for them. The sides are basically red, but the front and the front parts of the sides are painted with flames and weird pictures and that kind of thing. Oh, and they are big vaguely school-bus-in-50s-America-in-films-looking things.

No sign of any more spiders yet. I am mentally toying with potentially Poisson interarrival times and wondering what the lamba of the distribution might be. :-)

22:40. Further wafflings. I read a bit of the guide book back at the hostel earlier and it says a cab from the airport for one person should be USD12. But I just don't trust prices in guide books, my 2-3 year old South America guide book (ie about the same age as the Central America one) used to quote prices for hostels that were nothing like what I used to see, and I'm sure I didn't get ripped off that badly (I mean, hostelworld must be pretty reasonable in general).

I also read a bit on the flight yesterday about the US invasion in the 80s (??). I suspect it wasn't totally justified, and the guide book may be biased, but I had to smile at what I read as a sheer exercise of power, at least as it came across in the book. (See, I do have *some* masculine traits, despite eg my arachnophobia. :-) )

As I recall it, Noriega declared war on the US and a day or so later, an off-duty US marine in plain clothes was shot coming out of a bar. About four days later, twenty six thousand US troops with accompanying planes and warships turned up and destroyed large chunks of the city, Noriega eventually holing up in the Vatican embassy. It does seem rather overkill, though as I say I lack context and maybe there wasn't direct cause and effect, but as an example of raw power and "you fucked with the wrong guy" I have to at least grudgingly admire it. Rightly or wrongly I couldn't help grinning when I read it.

On a different but also oddly cheering emotional note, in the cab on the way to the hostel "Si No Te Hubieras Ido" came on the CD player and I immediately broke into a stupid grin, probably just at something familiar in a (slightly) disconcerting environment.

Oh, while stood like a lemon outside the hostel on first leaving this morning waiting for the damn thing to locate satellites so I could record the hostel location (a prudent move as it turned out of course, which is why I do it), I believe I happened to see briefly that I am over 5000km from Buenos Aires (the last waypoint I had navigated to being my Tuesday night hostel there, which is why it showed up with no effort to find out). My memory may be faulty, but I guess that would help to 'explain' the seven hour flight. On the other hand, that's about 3100 miles or about the same, if memory serves, as London-New York, which I believe takes less time. I have five hours floating around in my head. No, that's the time difference. I don't think the flight takes 'zero time' from London to New York (i.e. you leave at London local time X and arrive at NY local time X) so it must be more than five hours flying time. But I have never done it so I don't really know. I guess flying west across
the ocean may well have more favourable winds than flying mostly north probably over land. A minor point of interest to look up should I be bored on re-reading this back in the UK sometime.

I know it is possible to have 'zero flight time' on some routes in an 'ordinary' jet as the Australian guy I met at Oliver's Travels in La Paz told me of one flight he was on which had a slightly 'negative' flight time in that sense. But I don't think it's that common.

If we assume the beer here is USD2.50 a bottle and ignore the fact it costs USD10 round trip (under less wanky circumstances than earlier) to get here, I'd rather drink here than at that small bar back near the hostel. It is not great but it's a lot better.

I am glad I've experienced Casco Viejo living locally, but I think it does feel slightly risky (though, fingers crossed, I expect that to diminish as I get used to it) and the nightlife seems sucky. So if, as I almost certainly will, I stay here past the four nights I will get a hostel or hotel elsewhere.

I am still undecided as to exactly what to do in terms of splitting my time between here and the rest of the country. I need to decide tomorrow really as booking last minute is not ideal in terms of availability.

I am not enamoured of my current hostel as a hostel, but it's acceptable. My not staying in Casco Viejo is nothing to do with that. There might be better hostels (the 'best' one per my guide and some websites may only have dorms, but in any case was booked up for Wednesday by the time I booked) but I don't want to spend any more time in CV. There is a bit more stuff to see there but I can probably squeeze that in before the four nights/three days are up (though I may manage to be on a canal trip this Saturday and tomorrow may find me further afield booking that and then not returning afterwards til lateish) and if not I can cab it over, at least I've had the experience of seeing it 'locally' at night already.

It is far from deserted here but the crowd is thinning a bit. (It's 23:15.)

It may be deemed racist, though I don't think it is (you can't help but be paranoid, but I might as well be honest) but I do feel a little conspicuous being white here, although not so much lately. I think this must be mainly an artefact of my fearful attitude this morning (the guide book having slightly put me on my guard re Casco Viejo). It's not as if I felt so concerned about it in places like Bolivia where the vast majority of the population are equally non-white, or in Mexico where the same probably applies. (Statistically, I know a non-trivial portion of the Mexican population is white - I don't know about Bolivia - and maybe that helped. But I think that's true here too, yet as far as I remember every white person I've seen here has been obviously a tourist/ex-pat - either because they were at the hostel or I heard them speak and could tell they were American.) It's not that I think people are going to be racist towards me, it's just that I think it kind of flags me up as an
obvious tourist (I wonder how I'd feel if I was fluent in Spanish) and hence potential victim. This is why I say I think it probably comes from that first trip out this morning when I was seriously nervy, due to being slightly lost and probably hungry, which probably does affect mental state. (Seriously - I kind of made the connection based on talking with Rab about related issues, but I am 95% certain that when I was in Seville in late 2008 and found myself unable to eat until late, I was getting myself into a right state - a weird combination of anger and depression, at least once I was almost in tears over nothing at all - quite frequently, and eating would resolve it when I finally managed to eat. Something to do with blood sugar maybe. Admittedly I often don't eat til that late in the UK, but maybe there I'm feeling more comfortable and it doesn't affect me the same way.) This is probably a bit incoherent but I hope it will make sense when I look back on these notes.

A waiter just asked me if everything was all right. (Just as an enquiry, I think, in case the previous paragraphs or the spider incident have given the wrong impression, I am as relaxed as I ever get while awake right now.) I wondered if he was hinting to clear off so I asked if they were closing and he said they weren't. I may have one or two more, I don't want to have a really late night but this is hardly excess and beyond trying to book a canal tour I have no concrete plans for tomorrow.

I was musing earlier and I think part of the reason I sometimes feel I'm not making the best use of the trip is the sheer range of 'options' presented by the guide books. I read something once which suggested that up to a certain point people like choice, but beyond that point choice becomes oppressive in some sense. I don't think that makes choice a bad thing, but if it's true it would explain things a bit. I guess I am making choice and really I'm probably doing pretty well, but especially given my tendencies I guess it's easy to look at all that stuff in the book and imagine some hypothetical traveller managing to do everything suggested, either because they're better organised or have more time.

(There is one suggested itinerary at the front of the Central America book which allows you to cover every country in 14 days. But they do at least admit you're pushing it and, at least by implication, going to be rushing around like a blue arsed fly.)

It is a little weird to be using US currency outside the US. Even though, or maybe because, I have never actually been to the US long enough to need to possess any US currency.

I guess at least if I want to or 'need' to, I should be able to dispose of any surplus dollars in Mexico, as a lot of places seemed to take them when I was there before. Probably at a crap exchange rate, but can it be any worse than some exchange bureau? Still, although I have no need to worry about it this early into my two weeks, I will try not to leave the country with a big surplus. And I guess dollars probably command a vaguely fair exchange rate in the UK as there must be more traveller demand for them than (eg) Peruvian soles.

Some people here are smoking what I will probably incorrectly but intelligibly call hookahs.

I must say, though I have thought it nearly everywhere, it's vaguely and irrationally cool to be here in Panama City. Even ten years ago I would never have imagined I would be somewhere like this. Amazing as it may seem, I am easily the best travelled member of my family.

Oh, it hasn't rained (yet) tonight. I vaguely infer from the guide book late April is both slightly after the peak tourist season and the start of the rainy season. But at least we don't seem to be in Rio or Sao Paulo style weather.

I am fully aware I am wafflingly excessively, but I'm sat here on my own (though that's cool, right now I am not in the least bothered about it) and I keep feeling like 'sharing my thoughts' (if only with my future self) so sod it. I'm not drunk, this is only my fourth 330ml beer, and even if I have one or two more it's not going to be a big deal. I have to change my lifestyle when I get back home but for now I guess it's OK.

Not to play any "yeah, I really lived like a native" card (it would be both false and wanky), but I do get the impression most people here are locals. I guess I mainly observe this as some recent blog posts have made me wonder if I have unintentionally sought out pseudo-British (and I loosely include fake Irish bars in that, I guess it's even fair, what could be more English than a fake Irish bar? :-) ) or traveller kind of bars too much. I don't think I have and if I have then it's no big deal, but coming to places like this I can at least delude myself I've seen a certain aspect of the nightlife as experienced by locals.

Big projection TV is showing Fulham vs Hamburger SV on Fox Sports, FWIW.

Oh, I only found out (though at the back of my mind I knew it was Mayish) the date of the UK election from reading The Economist on the flight. I will have to see if I can get this week's edition here to see what their pre-election call is. I suspect it can be obtained here, the place must have a certain US-ish aspect and I gather The Economist is well-read in the US. I tried to find a copy in Montevideo with no luck, incidentally. (Just looking in big newsagents, I didn't ask anyone where I might get one. I found a copy of something like Time or Newsweek somewhere but that was all.)

I even managed to get vaguely interested in the election while reading about it, but ultimately it's all just the same old crap whoever wins. Obviously I had vague emigration thoughts at the inevitable prospect of higher taxes, but of course I could never do it. If nothing else, I suspect I'd always be able to earn far more in the UK than abroad, so while I might pay proportionately less tax I'd still be worse off in absolute terms. Still, I am not ruling out the prospect of a 'working holiday' of six months to a year or two some time if the world economy picks up and it becomes an option. It would be a different view of a foreign country and any salary would beat what I'm earning here in Latin America right now.

Just to finally unburden myself, I could swear that spider earlier had an un-UKishly large body. But surprise and fear may have enhanced the impression and I didn't stop to make a close observation. (Had it been outdoors I may have done, as I did at Iguazu Falls.) But I am not too bothered by it any more, as long as I don't find one like that when I get back to my hostel room tonight. :-)

00:25. Might be about ten people left. I just checked they weren't closing and ordered another, I suspect this will be my last. No big deal.

I guess if I do find myself wandering more centrally after (trying to) book(ing) the canal tour tomorrow I may locate some promising area which I can drink in. I won't want a late one if I do have the canal tour, but it's always cool to try new bars/areas if it's possible.

A cab just went past emblazoned with the name 'Maxi Taxi'. Sigh. :-) I am smirking stupidly all the same. Reminds me of seeing that van in London when I worked at Indicii Salus which gave me my first inkling there was a company called "Beddy Buyz". Which I think is a higher class of pun, but we have to make allowances for foreigners having a poorer sense of humour. :-)

As often happens, I tried to put my seat belt on in the cab, and there was one for once, but there was apparently nowhere to connect it to. I fumbled desperately then noticed the driver wasn't wearing his so just let it go. I do resent being *compelled* to wear one, but I don't mind doing it anyway as it's only sensible. I do wonder how it happens (and this is far from the first time) there can be a seatbelt fitted with no receptacle for the tongue (if that's the right word, I suddenly realise even in English I lack the vocabulary to discuss this confidently, which in some way makes me feel better about some of the gaps in my Spanish) but it's a funny old world and no mistake.

We are down to be about two other people here. I will get the bill and if they start shuffling tables while I finish up I will try not to let it bother me. Thought it will doubtless stop me relaxing anyway.

Not too concerned about getting a cab home as per earlier waffle, but it is obviously a bit of a niggle. I do at least know the area of the hostel slightly now so I can ask for the next door church without being too worried about finding the hostel myself, though I will try to get the driver to take me to the door as some of the nearby streets are rather dead and underlit.

Oh no, there are four people here and I think two just got served. Half regret asking for the bill (USD3/beer and it oddly came to 13.80, I gave 15, I will leave the change anyway in case the 1.80 is a cover charge, which I infer somehow doesn't cover service, and in future will pay more attention, USD3 sucks but it is still better than that first bar) but it is quiet and I'd have felt awkward and better to get home I guess.

(I just opened the wallet they gave me the change back in but the bill has gone so I can't see if that 1.80 was a cover charge or service charge. Sod it, an extra 1.20 is nothing compared to my two shit taxis so far.)

00:55. Well, I am down at 'Starlight Karaoke & Lounge' (sat outside, I did not come here with a view to karaoke and although there is music from inside it doesn't sound like karaoke anyway). I was genuinely going to get a taxi but wandering down the street a few metres a guy shouted at me to offer a taxi and having a certain reluctance to go with a random guy off the street (he may have had an official looking taxi for all I know, but it wasn't immediately apparent and I didn't want to talk to him then have to blow him off) I said no and veered down some side street (not to imply an alley, it's all busy round here) hoping to grab a cab on the street, which I am sure is possible, I found myself outside this place and with the irresistible possibility of another beer. Worst value yet at USD3 for 285ml of Panama (what genius invented that even smaller size?), but sod it, and I took the opportunity to break a 20. The reception at the hostel is 24h (I even confirmed that this morning in p
assing), I am pretty sober (small bottles plus lots of blog waffle do that) and tomorrow night may have to be an early one if I do manage to book a canal tour, so sod it. I am sure the cabs are already on night rates if they exist, and are always on tourist rates, so no big deal.

Oh, and although I don't know the checkout time, Saturday night will have to be fairly restrained as I have to check out Sunday morning. I deliberately booked only up to then as I wasn't sure of my plans or if Casco Viejo would be too scary (I hadn't counted on it being too dull, but it works out the same) so I covered Saturday to give me freedom to do a canal trip if possible without stress and left it at that. Saturday night being 'spoiled' is a bit of a pisser but even if I do stay in Panama City on Sunday night I can't really regret not booking longer at my current hostel. (It may - though it may not - be possible to extend my stay, but I don't want to.)

I may well stay in Panama City on Sunday and onwards, especially given the train plan for Monday, but (perfectly consistent with that) my vague idea is that I should do other parts of the country early-mid next week then finish up my stay here with 3-6 days back in Panama City. I'd rather be here next Friday and the weekend than some random small town, so it makes sense to do my in-country travel during the week. That may not work out as it may lead to me spending too much time here in Panama City, but still. I suppose I could in principle try to extend my hostel til Monday night, but even for just those two nights I'd rather experience living in a different part of the city, even if I will be there for fairly dead nights.

I could obviously plan to do the train thing a week on Monday so as to free myself up ASAP for travel in the country while returning here at the end of my trip. That seems quite sensible but at the same time I don't want to leave it too late in case it doesn't work the first day and I need another. But - and this seems fairly sensible, if a bit of a stress in that I need to decide tomorrow where I'm going on Sunday - I could plan to return to Panama City on Thursday, do the train on Friday and that gives me Monday and Tuesday for "fuck, I couldn't do the train on Friday" issues. That would also have me here a week on Saturday anyway in case I can't get a canal tour for the coming Saturday. It would mean ten nights in total in Panama City if I am back on Thursday night, even though I only spent six in Buenos Aires, but I guess Argentina is both bigger and has more obviously tempting attractions outside the capital.

That seems like a bit of a plan, though of course I don't know where I would go on Sunday. But there's bound to be one or two places I could fit into four days, nowhere in the country is that far.

Cool as it would be, I think Darien is out. Apart from recollections of the F&CO website when I looked back in the UK, the guide book makes it sound very dodgy. So I will resist the temptation to follow in the footsteps of Balboa and gaze with eagle eyes on the Pacific from some peak there.

And in terms of variety the rail trip does effectively take me to Colon for a day trip, even if I very deliberately won't be seeing the town/city.

Yeah, that all sounds like things are falling into place. I may end up in Panama City as long or longer as I spent in Santiago on my multiple visits but that's cool in a way, even if Santiago seems right now a lot more deserving of the time.

When I do leave I fully expect to be accosted by a cab driver with a shout and take it, thus making a mockery of the reason I came here, but there you go.

01:35. Just went to the bog so I had to go inside. There is indeed karaoke on, although it was hardly rammed it was a bit busy. I had not the least desire to stay in, the atmosphere certainly wasn't hostile as such but it was a bit naffly clubbish and at least the song on at the time sounded a bit 'RnB'. Was nicely airconditioned but it's not so bad out here. Have got another beer, I am being ripped off but at least it's with my consent unlike the first taxi.

Yeah, got another beer. Just did the maths and this one makes 4.4 pints. Admittedly probably of 5%-ish stuff. I am a bit surprised I have even this faint sense of drunkenness but I guess I've had time to notice, back in the good old UK with our (hahahaha) 24h drinking I would have drunk this much in a few hours and not been paying attention to how I felt unless it forced itself on my attention.

03:00. Just went for a piss and happened to catch some woman singing "Me Cuesta Tanto Olvidarte" very well so stayed to watch. Came back out afterwards and they said they weren't closing so got another beer. But someone has just collected every other table, sigh. I guess they aren't in a rush as the inside was still moderately busy but this sucks a bit. Still, was cool to hear that song.

They don't relay the karaoke feed outside, it's distinct music. Given it's a karaoke bar I think that's a mistake. But what do I know?

Feeling more sober, either as a result of the slash or my liver working away like a trooper or as a result of penetrating into that zone where you're just drunk enough not to know you're drunk. Maybe all three, but I suspect the latter predominates. Reminds me of that great sketch on "The Armando Ianucci Shows" where a guy discovers this principle. If you drive fast it's dangerous, but at exactly105mph everything becomes supernaturally clear. If you drink too much you get drunk but if you drink exactly 16 cans of lager you enter a world of clarity. The man is a comic genius, even if he hadn't introduce me to one of my favourite stupid jokes, the Mexican fireman.

Just noticed the Londoner is opposite and seems to have outdoor tables on this side and is quite busy. Don't plan to try popping over even if they are still open, but we all know what Robert Burns said...

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