Asunción

I’m sipping maté in the corner of a cosy coffee shop.

Outside the intense mid-morning sun is slowly transitioning to the afternoon.

The cafe is a hive of activity but I’m oblivious to most of it.

Instead I’m lost in a nostalgia thinking about Asunción, the capital of Paraguay.

Stepping outside my front door each morning was unpredictable.

I never quite knew what would happen next.

These moments were equally as entertaining as they were inconvenient.

Yet I found myself growing an unusually addiction to them.

I felt more alive than ever and craved more.

Roads turned into river beds on many afternoons.

The concept of drainage did not exist.

Large trees collapsed onto roads without warning.

The storm chaos then effortlessly gave way to magnificent rain-drenched scenes.

The steaming hot temperatures of the afternoon dissipated into cooler evenings.

The evenings rolled on slowly and then all at once.

There was never any shortages of Asado…

And quietly, their Asado rivals Argentina, but don’t mention that an Argentine unless you want a punch in the face.

Dinners were long.

Think three hours plus.

With endless courses of Carne and Malbec (most from Mendoza).

Afterwards, you never quite knew what the city had planned for you.

It was then time to walk (or crawl) back home.

The mornings were slow and started late.

And in the midst of the morning haze, there was always time for Typica and maybe some Tereré as well.

Before I knew it, the mornings drifted into afternoons (starting at 2pm).

A sense of anticipation swept over me as it was time to repeat it all over again.

Until it wasn’t…

I’d lost track of time completely.

My mind slowly drifted back from what felt like an hour-long trance.

The maté had gone cold (basically now Tereré).

I replaced it with espresso.

And pondered what was next…