Basking in my post ‘Visitor From Home’ glow, having eaten my own body weight in bacon and with enough Irish sausages in my fridge to open my own butcher’s, it seems like the right time for a more mellow, feel-good post.
My previous posts have focused on stony Latvian faces, dodgy Latvian fashions, ‘interesting’ Latvian pastimes and bleak Latvian winters. All of which my Visitor From Home was warned about well in advance. But as I should have expected, the one weekend I really wanted Latvia to live up to its reputation, Latvia didn’t co-operate.
The sun shone and the temperature rose to a balmy 3 degrees. The Latvians we met were charm personified – waiters smiled, bar staff cracked jokes and nobody tried to run us over. We even managed to meet some Latvians whose pastimes seemed to be drinking and talking to random Irish people in bars. Amazing. Could it be that I’d been mistaken all along?
Of course not. In our last bar, we met a Latvian who groped me and punched my Visitor From Home. And today I saw a woman whose idea of style was a matching purple bouffant and scarf.
And so, with a brow wipe and a sigh of relief, I can happily report that all is right with the world again. I might celebrate with some sausages…