Curry and Ale

It didn´t take me long, did it? Yes, last night´s supper was a fiery chicken tikka masala and some microbrewed Bolivian "ale" at an expat bar. The curry was good and the ale was OK - basically more like a continental dark beer than a traditional English ale, a little effervescent, some fruity notes, good legs and really top-class feet. In fact, I want to talk about food and it´s utter cheapness today. For breakfast I had ham and scrambled eggs, a mountain of toast, fruit juice and nice coffee for....basically 2 and a half dollars. Mmm. (I know, it´s not very authentically Bolivian but I´m a bit salteña´d out and besides, botulism and typhoid are authentically Bolivian and I don´t much fancy them). And this was in quite a posh cafe/bar in the upper-middle class area where I live. Fab, eh? And it´s not just food...I can basically go anywhere in town by taxi for about a dollar, and if I get the little buses or collectivos it´s about 25 cents. Although, bizarrely I am still walking everywhere. Amazing. Oh yes, as I was pottering around the shops and markets today (bought some socks and playing cards if you´re interested) I saw a sign that read "Swiss fondue and single malt whiskey" and, as you would, I wandered into the restaurant and lo! they had Talisker. Very expensive but a little something I can treat myself to once in a while. Now all I need is somewhere where I can watch the cricket and I can be the ultimate English banana abroad. Hurrah! Oh yes, and this bloke was telling me last night about these women who come on to the streets at about 4 in the morning, selling these amazing barbequed beef hearts...mmm, slurp. So that´ll be the kebab alternative here. I´ll keep you posted.

Also, I have moved to a little self contained sort of bedsit thing next door, which gives me some relief from the lunatic antics of my previous household and a bit more privacy. And it doesn´t smell so much like drains (although that will no doubt change now I´m there). And anyway, it looks like my tranquility is going to be assaulted by my previous landlady´s 6 year old son who keeps popping over to talk at me and watch my TV (I have cable TV now, wooo, can only be a bad thing...). Ho hum.

So there you are. Happy 6 de agosto (and enjoy going to work on Monday, workers, it´s a bank holiday here).