Lets go urban, lets go scorchingly hot, melting tarmac, sweat, grit, graffiti, the clatter – not of ice – but of dustbins, the short-tempered blast of car horns… themselves all wondrously quenched by a large glass of rosé. Specifically Rosé d’Anjou (seeing as they sponsored a recent event in deepest Shoreditch).
It is hot so we might have to allow that trickle of moisture down the side of the bottle and one or two ice cubes – because urbanites just want to be cool. As hot day slips into sultry evening, the lights come on, friends come round to catch the sounds of the city from a roof top or balcony. We chill out. We relax.