I couldn’t sleep that night. Wanting to get some English air, I went for a walk. Drops of rain crashed against the black umbrella, creating colourful illuminations with the lights of the Westminster Square.

It was two o’clock in the morning, and I could hear subdued sounds of the piano from a distance. Arranging themselves in a subtle melody, they were like film music heard from outside the frame. Following the raw London streets towards the music, I felt like the main character in film noir and an exciting thrill went through me. What script is written for me today?

Finally, London revealed one of its secrets to me: I came across a small, cosy jazz club. A few musicians playing on the stage, an oak inlaid bar with amber reflections from the glass of cognac I ordered.

I took the last available table and I surrendered to this impression emphasized by the noble drink. I spent the rest of the night like this and I felt special … it was good vintage – London Riverwood..