I had Pepsi today. First time in a while because I’ve finally not drinking full-fat soft drinks so much. Though, when I do it’s normally Coke and not Pepsi. And today the first sip was enough to evoke some pretty strong memories.
Memories of Pepsi in glass bottles, at grandma’s house.
A brief 2 hour drive and short 11 hour flight away.
Of the road outside - St Francois Xavier, with the cigarette factory - cinq cinq cinq - around the corner with it’s particular smell, the football pitch opposite, the shop with unusual sweets and the two large rocks for seats where family sat and talked and watched the world go by.
The creaky front gate and the alley leading to the house, as well as Dad’s Uncle’s and Aunt’s houses.
The kitchen that we always ate from but rarely went in.
The living room with the day bed where people would sit and talk and where I remember grandma being.
And the space beyond it where we slept when we did stay there and sometimes ate.
The mashed potato dish that they made and that I always used to love.
The fact it was dark and that the bed we slept on was so high.
I have such sharp, clear memories of it.
And they all came back today because we always drank Pepsi and never Coke.