Kinnie Is Disgusting

SLIMA, MALTA

It is 1:50 in the morning. I need to be up in three and a half hours in order to be sure I make my ferry. (I'm not missing another one.) The hostel is dead silent, save my typing and the hum-clack of the dryer. I have just washed my clothes for the first time in three weeks - I have been wearing the same pair of pants for two and a half of them, along with the same pair of underwear, both only washed once, by hand. As you might suspect, I'm very happy about this. I have just purchased one bottle of Kinnie, a uniquely Maltese soft drink, from the vending machine next to the internet café/laundry room this hostel has provided me with. I figure it's probably more "native" than any of the rabbit dishes the wonderful touristy restaurants have offered me. You are about to see history in the making - the first live blog on "Where Is Jolly Now?". I am about to let you witness my drinking of this drink, in real time.

The bottle is vaguely phallic - more cylindrical than most soda bottles, with a slightly larger bulge on the top than on the bottom. The liquid is iced-tea colored, which fizzes up nearly to the top (as have all my carbonated beverages here - they seem to have a problem). The label is orange fading to the same iced tea color. I'm slightly repulsed, or at least off-put. Orange is the refuge of the off-brands - Moxie, Orangeaid (although it might have an excuse), and now Kinnie. Blue? Pepsi. Red? Coke. Purple? Nobody wants to be purple, save maybe grape soda. Black? Coke Zero. Green? Christmas sodas?

Ok, so maybe that was a bad attempt at striking something deeper. At any rate, the description reads "A refreshing non-alcoholic drink made from bitter oranges and aromatic herbs." Bitter oranges? Bitter may go over decently in the UK, but this American does his drinks sugary, as all of my countrymen have done for generations. Herbs? I'm... intrigued? Nervous? At least it's non-alcoholic. The day I see a fizzy alcoholic drink served in a plastic soft drink bottle, well, I'm not going to make any promises, because getting back to the patriotic theme, if there's one thing we Americans are good at, it's finding new and more blasphemous ways of packaging our alcoholic beverages, and I'd rather not tempt fate.

(Side note: I think my sentence structure has become more complex since I've begun reading Heart of Darkness. Seriously amazing novella, by the way. I really really need to re-watch Apocalypse Now.)

The smell: Actually, quite intriguing. It smells like Christmas potpourri in liquid form. Sweet, with spicy oranges and yes, herbs. Don't know what kind of herbs - maybe a roast turkey blend?

Ok, here we go. First a sip - interesting. I think I'll be able to finish it, but I don't think I'll ever want another one after that. You definitely get the bitter - it gets under your tongue. I had no idea I had taste buds down there, but what few there are are definitely going "BITTER", even as I type. A full drink - the fizziness is perfect - if Coke could do this regularly, every Coke would be ecstasy. But that aftertaste - charitably I could call it tolerable. Charitably. It's only on the bottom of the tongue, but - well, it's bitter oranges. Incredibly bitter, just before the point where you need to wash your mouth out.

I'm sorry, but I can't finish this. The bitterness has gotten to my stomach. It's such a shame too, because otherwise it's actually not half bad.

So, why did I just waste five, possibly ten minutes of your life like this? Is there a grander point, some sort of allegory towards the Malta experience?

No seriously. Tell me if you know. I thought I was just bored, and wanted to avoid writing about my travels.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, writing this blog has become a chore. A chore I know you all deeply appreciate, so I will continue to struggle to write it (as much as it has kept my procrastination skills sharply honed for college), but a chore none the less.