Gin! W. demands. We wants a respite from his judgement.

W. is soothed by the Plymouth Gin botanicals. He can taste the oris-root and the coriander seeds. He can taste the orange peel.

Plymouth Gin is our realitätpunkt, W. says, our rallying point, our place of safety. Sipping Plymouth Gin is always a homecoming, W. says. Always a return to what is most important.

If only we had some Vermouth, we could make Martinis, W. says. In the Plymouth Gin cocktail bar, they swill your glass with Vermouth, specially imported from America, and then pour it out. Only then do they fill the glass with fresh Plymouth Gin and add a spiral of lemon peel, W. says. You need Vermouth only to pour it away, W. says, like an offering made to the gods.