coffee

I spent my first full day in Prague by myself, exploring the city under bright, white clouds that mirrored the crunchy snow on the streets. Power cables and sculptures. Delicate ironwork. Wide roads. Alleyways. Street art passages scary and inviting. Trams to dodge. Phrases to practice.

You shared a list of 28 places we could go to if it was possible. Gathered, researched, wished for. I didn't want to go to them alone, so stumbled upon others instead and took photos. I reviewed the coffee, cake and atmosphere of every one; shared them in real time, listing brewing methods, farms, countries, roasts, tasting notes, decor, music, staff moods and movements.

The best photo that day was of a coffee set in the second café. It also had the best coffees and became the one place I visited daily.

When you live with a barista you remember that small amounts of effort and attention can transform everyday experiences into moments of concentrated pleasure.

I once gave you a book about a man who tried to thank literally everyone involved in making his daily coffee. You didn't enjoy it and told me. I always respect and admire this honesty. Part of it might have been because the book took him out of the moment, away from that mindful, immediate response for what he received. He turned a pause into a journey, a photograph into a movie.

I pledged to take a photo each day of my trip. Distinct moments that now transport me back to specific points in time. Travelling to be still.

Originally posted on 23rd January 2024