I haven't had a drop to drink since I left Africa. Now, granted, that has only been five days as I write, so I feel sort of like an alcoholic saying that, but then, who doesn't feel like an alcoholic when they've spent nearly 41 hours in a state of inebriation because of the stress of traveling.

I may have mentioned once or twice about traveling surrounded by kids.

Okay, so I went to look in the fridge just now and was about to grab a glass of red wine, but something stopped me. I don't know what it was. Maybe it is the thought of tomorrow night's party. The word "copious" was used to describe the amount of alcohol and it's possible that my new favourite drink, Amarula (thanks, Ian), will be the drink of the day. Every time someone says it, they have to take a shot.

Drinking. My father was an alcoholic who smoke and as a result, followed numerous people down the chemotherapy path of throat cancer. It was not pretty, but in order to survive, he had to stop drinking. I remember thinking that I would never be like him.

My first taste of alcohol came as quite a surprise. Imagine a seven year old amidst the cast offs of her parents party. Finally able to come out of her room because the adults are gone, she goes in search of something to drink. Seeing a half full glass (to this day, she only sees half full) of clear liquid, she greedily grabs it and takes a big gulp. To her very unpleasant surprise, it was not the water she was expecting.

I never thought I would like gin after that. After that taste, I explored every bottle of alcohol until I smelled the bottle from which that monstrous drink had come. Seagrams Extra Dry Gin. I remember the small, heavy glass and the gleaming gold label to this day. I remembered because I wanted to avoid it. I never thought I would like gin, ever, until I was on the second leg of my flight, from London to Barcelona, and our British seatmate suggested a gin and tonic. We, wooed by her accent, ordered and our drinking life has not been the same since.

I know coffee. I savour coffee. I like trying to learn the tastes of beans from different regions. I have a friend who is not a coffee fan who is slowly learning the merits of coffee. In return, he is teaching me to appreciate liqour, which in many ways, I still don't. He poured a finger of Jameson's for me to taste and I could not think of any other way to describe it except olive oil. He was very disappointed.

Gin is the closest I've come to actually enjoying straight alcohol. For all my non-girl like tendencies, none of them extend to my drink. Yes, I like to taste the alcohol a bit - there is something about the flavour that other sweeter, more palatable liquids bring out - but for the most part, make my drink taste like anything but alcohol.

Which is why I like Amarula. I thought I'd seen it in the stores before going to Southern Africa, but I didn't know what it was and I'd already tried my fair share of Irish Creams liqeour, so I skipped it. However, as a pre dinner drink, it far exceeded my expectations on first taste. Silky, sweet, with just the right amount of bite. Mmmmmm.

I abstained from alcohol for many years past when I could have gotten some because of my father. He was an mean drunk or a self pitying drunk, neither of which is pretty on a Friday night. I won't ever become what he was, but I have to keep tabs on myself so that won't happen. It's not a matter of feeling I am better than him. It's a matter of being vigilant. I won't ever become what he was.

The party tonight will be interesting. If there is Amarula and the host has fallen under my persuasion powers, I will be able to enjoy amarula followed by a few gin and tonics. Just like in Africa.

Nice!