In America they have these huge alcohol warehouses filled with every kind of booze you could dream of. It’s ridiculous. At first I wondered why on earth they had such a huge amount of choice, when we get such a pitiful variety over here. Then I realised… If we had places like this, the whole population would be wiped out fairly quickly.
We got some beers, but I felt like we had to get at least one bottle of something ridiculous. Instead of getting a nice flavoured vodka or something, we opted for this:
Arkansas lightning. 62.5% moonshine.
It was fairly potent.
but not all that terrible, it has to be said.
Cari took this photo after consuming a fair amount of the lightning.
She managed to focus the stupid f0.95 lens better than I ever have… and she’s even blinder than me!
This night was one of the defining moments of the trip as far as I’m concerned.
Sitting outside… passing the bottles round… listening to the Smashing Pumpkins in the yellowy light… It’s difficult to explain, but it was one of those rare times where everything seems both so surreal and tangibly real all at once, where things seem to slot into place.
1979 took on a whole different meaning that night.
Special mention has to go to Michael. When the others went to bed, he not only held his own and finished off the bottle of this fire-water-earthquake pish with me, but also then managed to get on a bicycle and go see his girlfriend.