Crumble, anyone?

I honestly have no idea where to begin. The last leaves are falling, the Christmas market stalls are going up, the temperature is dropping and I feel as though I’ve just about lost the plot. Winter is here.

My weekend in Warsaw was truly wonderful until I woke up to a fellow bunker throwing up in their own bed on the last morning, unable to open my right eye, or help my friend in their unfortunate time of need. It seems that unfortunately Poland and its incredibly reasonable prices got the better of us. We feasted like kings all day and the evening escalated for some, including myself, as after journeying on knowing full well that I should definitely not be sticking plastic glasses to my poor infected eyeballs, I can now confirm that conjunctivitis and contact lenses are not a match made in heaven. My swollen eyes and doctor’s note are 100% proof of that. Consequently I have managed to book a spontaneous trip home for £45 and intend to spend the week in fleece pyjamas, eating kilos of apple crumble, smothered in chocolate cocker spaniel love and attention. I feel this is the best method of recovery and will gear me up perfectly for my return next week before I venture to Latvia on my own for the weekend.

I have also given up on the male species, for those of you wondering if I ever messaged that barman. Funny story actually, I have really outdone myself this time. My best friend and I went for a meal before our planned Halloween night out, I chose my favourite restaurant and he happened to be working. I guess I wasn’t expecting to see him really. He said he’d be going out for Halloween and I assumed he’d take the evening off, I didn’t take into account that Germans usually start the party so late you could easily do both. “Too late,” I told myself, “You are here, he is here, just don’t fuck up.” Halloween and just generally celebrating life and all, we ordered cocktails. It was fine, we smiled, we laughed, we joked, I was on edge the whole fricking time, but it was fine. However I was so busy trying to act happy but relaxed, yet fun and flirty, maybe a bit of sexy on the side who knows, and most of all attempting to at least speak German well enough for him to understand that I forgot to specify gluten free upon ordering my pasta. What a tit.

A few mouthfuls in and it dawned on me how good the dish tasted, I placed my fork down making a calm, ladylike break for the toilets but when I got there I discovered that the damage was already done. Face covered in a red rash. Oh no, ladies and gents, this was no gluten attack, this was the work of a mighty cocktail ingredient, which I still haven’t quite pinned down. I’ve only experienced it twice before but the two times it’s previously happened I have slowly become unable to breathe, gasping for breath. Allergic reaction combined with consumption of gluten = red face covered in a rash, belly starting to expand to 7 months pregnant, unable to breathe, general dizziness and inability to function, real attractive, right? Safe to say I don’t think he will be messaging me after seeing me in that state…

Now if you excuse me I think there was some crumble left over…

 

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