“Sod the wine, I want to suck on the writing. This man White is an instinctive writer, bloody rare to find one who actually pulls it off, as in still gets a meaning across with concision. Sharp arbitrage of speed and risk, closest thing I can think of to Cicero’s ‘motus continuum animi.’

Probably takes a drink or two to connect like that: he literally paints his senses on the page.”

DBC Pierre (Vernon God Little, Ludmila’s Broken English, Lights Out In Wonderland ... Winner: Booker prize; Whitbread prize; Bollinger Wodehouse Everyman prize; James Joyce Award from the Literary & Historical Society of University College Dublin)





15 January 2009


1. Drink contents. 2. Have a nice lie down.

DRINKSTER can't report on the aroma of these bedrooms, but we suppose a race of dudes who wear wooden shoes and prefer their cheese with 27% more cavities won't be bothered by a whoof of Beaujolais, which is where de Vrowre van Stavoren Hotel, a Dutch establishment, got these big old vats.

While each originally held 14,500 liters of sleeping fluid, each vat now sports modest sleeping arrangements for two, with a narrow cot down each side, a little like the inside of a wooden boat.

Having nursed dangerous archictectural tendencies for years, DRINKSTER thinks a water bed filled with Beaujolais would have made more sense in the bottom of each compartment: a small valve on each side would see the wine pumped into the occupants of said cot with the appropriate surges.

Now, a teepee made from bladder packs ... an igloo built from frozen ones?