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We soon found a routine that suited us both: fresh cinema popcorn delivered home, a bottle of Arzuaga and plenty to talk about. One bottle occasionally became two, although Alicia developed a clever system: stop drinking, refill Chris’s glass and ask increasingly juicy questions. Once satisfied with her findings, she would fall asleep. Chris accepted this and developed a separate watchlist, eventually completing entire series and movies beside his unconscious interviewer. We were getting quite good at making our differences work.

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That shared appetite for a good time followed us on holiday: eating our way around dodgy but delicious Hong Kong restaurants, enjoying island beer, fresh seafood and drunken coastal drives in Seychelles, spending winters in sunny South Africa and looking for koalas in Australia. Trips to Germany took Alicia’s cultural education further. Cycling and Weißwurstfrühstück were one thing; going from “I don’t like beer” to finishing a whole Maß and singing in the Paulaner Festzelt was another. “Ein Prosssittt!” On the Georgian ski slopes, fuelled by self-made mulled wine, Chris thought he had discovered an unexpectedly fearless side to Alicia when she was speeding downhill. It turned out she just didn’t know how to brake.

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By April, two years after we met, we had collected plenty of stories and Chris had a plan for the next one. During a holiday at our favourite hotel, he planned to propose over champagne on the balcony. We had already looked at ring designs together, but Alicia suspected nothing. Four nervous trips to the bathroom and a sudden change into a nice shirt failed to raise any questions. Chris, meanwhile, had hidden the ring in his shoe and was now struggling to get it out. When he finally managed to ask, Alicia was so blindsided that she insulted him before saying yes. After all that research, Chris had still found a South African response he hadn’t prepared for.