It’s 5 O’clock Somewhere

Four Seasons- Bali 

It starts in Berlin (it’ll end here too.)

5 O’clock is barely end of the business day but my girlfriends and I have been sitting at this café working since 10 and the weißweinschorle started flowing at 4…

 

Thailand

Singha Beer and fruity drinks at a café backed against a temple with a giant gold buddha reflecting into the garden.

 

Bali

5pm means if you’re not at the beach yet, you will be soon, because that’s where sunset and social hour happens, every night.

Friend’s Rooftop Deck in Vienna
Namibia

The campground has a cave and it’s set up for dinner. Candles line the wall, a fire in the corner, someone has a guitar, wine is flowing, the meat? I don’t ask. I am pretty sure it’s zebra.

 

Paris

We sit at a café, we’re outside but white linens cover the tables, there is a lovely dry chapmpagne and oysters, nothing else matters.

South Africa- Stellenbosch wine region
Rome

A light aperitif joins our cheese and salami, a deep fruity but dry red accompanies the homemade pasta, and the most amazing grappa joins our tiramisu.

 

Osaka

Sake and sushi, ramen, and rice, what else is there to say?

Colombia

5 pm is usually my favorite Argentinian Malbec, it goes great with a hearty beef soup, but sometimes Club Colombia Red hits the spot when we’re at the corner shop chowing on corn empanadas.

 

Costa Rica

I walk into the bar, the bartender calls out, “Hey Rubia- Here’s your Tanqueray!” Cold gin and a front row seat for sunset? How can I go wrong?

 

Cape Town

A picnic on top of Table Mountain, cheap white wine in plastic cups, vegan salami and fake cheese, but the company is all love, and the weed is strong.

Rooftop bar in Bangkok- Amazing Charcuterie Tray
We’re back in Berlin…

…on a sidewalk in front of a restaurant in the middle of the summer. We started with Aperol Spritz but it’s not long before the rose is the main attraction. Charcuterie and smiles complete the show.

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If you like reading about my travels- here are a few other posts to check out!

A Cuenca Evening

Back Again, in Medellin

The Language of Love, German?

 

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