At the end of May my sister asked me for Soraida's address. She wanted to send me a package. It was still in May when I received a message from Christine. The package had arrived in Aruba. She saw it in tracking. Then nothing happened.
Last weekend, Soraida spoke to me. She received a notification that a package is to be picked up. It's in the post office in Oranjestad, where I've spent a few short hours in the waiting area. The post office is only open Monday through Friday, so I'll have to wait a few more days. I like to do that, after all, I know the contents of the package.
I can't go to the post office on Monday morning because I have an appointment with three dozen pointed-eared animals. The cats and kittens go first. First I go about my duties at the animal shelter. After feeding and cleaning, there is usually petting and cuddling. I'll leave that out this time, I want to be at the post office before lunch. Next time I will stroke the cute kittens again and again. The little guy in the photo was actually adopted by a tourist family. Apparently they wanted to take him home. Instead, they gave him and his brother back at the end of their vacation. I'm not even trying to understand.
With the collection slip in hand, I enter the post office. Here the emphasis is definitely on the word “office”. The security guard at the entrance sends me to the first counter. There my identity and the authorization to collect the package will be checked meticulously. My ID will be copied, as will Soraida's driver's license. I had to take that with me too. Then I can move up to the next switch. There I have to pay the fees and customs for the package. Then I continue in the queue in front of counter three, where I can finally receive the package. I leave the post office happily.
Now it's time to wait again. My fridge works fine, but it's not very fast. I put one of the 24 cans directly under the cooling unit. This time the wait is very, very easy for me, because the thought of a packet of cider turned into real cider. There is no other flavor in Aruba.
As the evening sun begins to cast ever longer shadows, I decide that the cider is now at drinking temperature. The can opens with a soft hiss. The ribbed finally gets a proper filling again. I reverently enjoy the moment, I take a picture of the golden potion in the sun.
How incredibly good it tastes. The local so-called cider is basically sugar water with an apple flavor. I can almost taste the individual apples from the cider. When I close my eyes, I can see the Main flowing through Frankfurt. The noise of the planes taking off next door would also be typical for Frankfurt. The can is emptied far too quickly. In any case, I'll save cans for my birthday.
A fantastic summer drink. I will bring sparkling water with me the next time I visit Superfood. When the outside temperature is 34 ° C, you can also try a shot. Thank you, Christine !!!