Potsie—the goose is loose in Georgia
A mini Aisle of Vodka.
My dear friend, Potsie who lives in Dallas, is very fond of his vodka, especially the brand, Grey Goose. He’s not a big traveller and I’ve often wondered if that’s because he’s afraid he won’t be able to buy ‘the goose’ outside the USA.
Potsie, you can stop worrying and pack your bags. I’m in Georgia—the country, not the state—on the western edge of Central Asia, and there is absolutely no shortage of vodka, including ‘the goose’.
This morning in the capital, Tbilisi, Poor John and I wandered through the appropriately namely Goodwill Supermarket, and came upon the Aisle of Vodka. Six shelves high and 10 metres long, this wall displayed every conceivable brand and flavour of vodka.
The pic shows a portion of a much smaller Aisle of Vodka in a different shop. Most supermarket entrances have a sign saying ‘no cameras’, so I had to be quite sneaky to capture even this quick shot.
I’m not a vodka drinker, but Poor John tells me that chilli vodka is worthy of some attention, so if I have some leftover Georgian currency tomorrow—before we head to Azerbaijan—I might buy a bottle. Then again, I might not. Poor John says it’s best drunk ice-cold and I have no idea when I’ll see a freezer.
Where to next? 
Oh Peggy. Go on; have some vodka for me. I know it’s supposed to be tasteless but surely you’d tasted chili vodka even if it wasn’t ice cold. And now Potsie can travel with you and Poor John too secure in the knowledge that he won’t go thirsty. An important consideration to be sure!
Also, I’m about to write you a MasterChef update seeing as you have Internet at the moment and it was a dramatic show tonight. Take care.
Best wishes
Louise
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Ha! The real-life saga of The Adventures of Indiana Peggy and Poor John’s Temple of Doom continues. Someone really ought to make a movie. Maybe Spielberg would be interested.
Yes. It is true. I am a connoisseur of the evil libation that some call ‘Fire Water.’ I call it the “elixir of the Gods.” It makes me smile.
Oh, Peggy! It is so dreadfully hot in in Texas. The temps were 109°F today and all I have done is relax in air-conditioned comfort with a glass or five of spiked lemonades. And a fly swatter to beat away the mosquitoes. Later, I will watch MasterChef and think of you.
Poor John is right. Without ice… vodka ain’t worth having.
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It’s boiling here too. It’s been at least 105°F every day this week. Perhaps Texas and this Georgia are mysteriously linked—channelling through the Aisle of Vodka.
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