My coffee and I
As autonomous and independent as I try to be, I have to confess there is one thing that has striked my addictiveness and that I can not live without. (ofcourse there are many things I can’t live without, but I am now talking about physical addictiveness in the very sense of the word).
My body’s best friend seems to be coffee. This morning I walked through the city, sun had just risen, the ground was wet from a rather chilly night and the temperature was still below 10 degrees. Hardly any people were present in the streets of Bergen. Allthough I tend to find these kind of quiet mornings rather plesant I just didn’t seem able to appreciate it today. Then, in all its bright and glory, Dromedar coffee house appeared.. 3 minutes later my worldview changed. With a take away cortado passing its way through my vains, my senses opened up and I was able to take in the impressions of my lovely surroundings. How this brew has this ability, I don’t know. For me it is not quite comprehensable how some black drops with a touch of milk can be alpha omega of whether my day starts in a good or in a bad way. Psychologic effect or magic,… I don’t really care. Bottom line is, I want to take this opportunity to pay a small tribute to the coffee bean, the drink, the barristas who make it so well. Thankyou, for giving my days a perfect starting point!
SiLjA - gjor et nytt forsok, var ikke saa lett aa faa til dette kommentar-greien. Uansett, bra du har kommet deg ut i den virtuelle “virkelighet” du og! Og det paa engelsk - hm - syns du skriva saa bra eg - kanskje du vil gi gramatisk veiledning paa bacheloroppgave?!!
Fekk forresten skikkelig lyst paa god norsk kaffe naa - hverdagen blir ikke den samme uten, men indisk melkekaffe er jo en slags trost full av sukker.
Comment by Inger — October 5, 2006 @ 12:43 pm