PB&J

We talk about globalization a lot - the promise of markets for products, the fear of a loss of individual character and diversity. In light of the latter, it was good to see that the British nation has not yet been engulfed by the tsunami of American culture and tastes. Case in point, the serious ghetto-ization of peanut butter at the supermarket (photo at left).

It may be my time looking after the galley and shopping throughout Indo, or maybe it's my appetite, but supermarkets are a favorite destination in a new place. In Timor-Leste there was the $17 pints of Ben & Jerry's, the orange juice from Cyprus, and delicious frozen dumplings from Singapore; in Darwin, we had the gold foil-wrapped chocolate wombats at Easter time - complete with purple ribbons - and a glut of Australia-themed breakfast cereals (in case you're lost?).

So, while it is hard to pass judgment on this new country based on my shopping to date, walking down the aisles today did feel like a quick peek into a country's medicine cabinet: an epic selection of teas, a dozen varieties of digestive biscuits, and a whole lane devoted to nothing but beers and lager. I think I'm catching on; winter, after all, must be on its way.