And I turned 29. It says something about the life I lead when I’ve spent my I birthday in a different country every year for the last 4 years. 29 was ushured in with friends in a villa south of Tuscany. Complete with good food, wine and tons of laughter. Much deserved even if I do say so myself. in other life observations, I’ve noticed that the coffee of a place reflects its people. Italian coffee is smooth, very smooth, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. French coffee is sharp, striking and strong, you like it in spite of yourself. Belgian coffee when good is very good but when bad makes you want to hurl it at the nearest croissant and pack your bags and you can never say which one you will get. German coffee – they won’t serve it any other way, take it or leave it.

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