Dominick Street in Galway is bustling with an old-school glow. The chief carries a tray full of eggs from one cafe to another. Beer kegs meditate on the sidewalk in front of a yellow door with a rustic knocker.
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The morning has the taste of dates
nostalgic and quite rough.
The rain is dripping into the coffee
– a friend who listens
my morning poem
I have one regular ritual in the morning for two or even three years. I sit down on a plush sofa with a cup of coffee, with nice porridge (today full of dates), and sometimes with fresh orange juice and a cat on my knees (depending on cat).
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–Hey Barista
– some people call me at work, and I value this nickname because I like to make coffee and drink it.
Recently, one customer told me that he likes coffee made exactly by me. Then I realized that the fact how I care about making each coffee makes sense.
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There is one place in Wroclaw, Poland, where I always drop in, even if I come to the city for only two days. This point has became my personal symbol of Wroclaw which I miss.
Kawalerka Cafe – is a tiny coffee shop located on Benedytkt Polak street opposite the blocks from postmodern architecture or cosmic blocks as I usually call them, nearby the Grunwald Bridge and my flat where I used to live. The interior is decorated in 60s and 90s style. Not so long ago you could choose a music from tape records and play it on.
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Galway is Irish city inlet of Atlantic. City full of shimmering colours, heavy rain, sincere tolerance, culs-de-sacs, flowing to the heart songs, and loud cry of gulls. My no perfect city with some spaces, which make really antidepressant effects. One of them is:
PLEASURE coffee and vinyls records.