Abusing the sacred bean
Unexpected but normal side effect of my morning sampling coffees: Spidey-sense.
My start was the usual camp stove affair. AeroPress and a longer brew time after allowing the dog to lead me up the road and back. Just the old ordinary start to a morning. Off to see what the Basin was like before the tourist
s roll in. Next, a stop at Timmy’s, out of boredom. Nothing felt. All the way down to St. Peter’s, where I overheard some nearby tourists praising the new coffee bar. Might as well take a peek.
The Barista, AKA Sam, was proud of his new business, and insisted (no arm twisting involved) that I try his wares. Good flavour, obviously real (the unground beans nearby And the full tilt espresso machine gave additional credence). Now I’m awake, and conversation turned to roasting and brewing techniques. My bad.
I mentioned curiosity about “cold brew” and he opened the fridge. A carafe of dark liquid, and a large, on the house, sample. Good. No, make that very good. No. Make that “my extremities are tingling”. A full coffee buzz for the first time in years. I was ready to get on the road.
To a friend’s house, where fresh brewed coffee was ready. Are you keeping track? I should have been. No down time for the rest of the afternoon. I tried. By the time my awaited ferry docked, all I could think about was how the day had gone by. Fast. Really fast.
And now I’m back by the tent, wondering why the dog is so restless. HE didn’t abuse the sacred bean.
