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My friend Paul died yesterday in the wee hours and was cremated this morning in Jerez. It still feels unreal, even though we’ve known for some time now that this was going to be the only outcome. Paul was first diagnosed with an aggressive and rare form of cancer about five years ago and, although he rallied a few times after surgery and chemo, and other treatments, in the end the treatments stopped working and it was time to go.
I last saw Paul when I was in Jerez at the end of May for Vinoble. On our last afternoon there Peter and I stopped by for a short visit. As much as I hoped to see him, which I was pretty sure was going to be for the last time, I also didn’t want to impose because I knew how hard this has been for his wife Anne, and I also wasn’t sure if he’d be up for visitors. So we stayed for about 45 minutes and, well, he was mostly there. In any case, I’m glad I got a chance to see him, give him a hug and a kiss and tell him that I love him.
Paul was very… Paul. He loved telling terrible jokes and had a repertoire of stories and tales that he delighted in recounting in his own exuberant way. He also loved good food and wine and sharing both with his friends. I’ve been out with Paul and Anne, both in Jerez and Sevilla, more times than I can remember. Always a good time, and I’ll miss that. I’ll also miss my WhatsApp “relationship” with Paul, which began shortly after he was diagnosed. I guess because he knew I’d had cancer he felt able to share his experiences with me there, and I hope I was able to provide some company and comfort for him.
Anyhow, thanks for all the good times, Paul. For being a good friend. For being your irrepressible self. And for liking me. Hasta siempre, amigo mio. ❤️

Paul at the María Luisa hotel insisting that HE make the martinis,
the barman wisely didn’t try to stop him… still the best martini I’ve ever had.


