The tendency not to start anything until you have had a cup of coffee
Each morning I roll out of bed, looking like an extra from The Walking Dead and head straight to the kitchen, for what I like to call my shot to the system. As the daily ritual begins, my blurry eyes cast themselves over the little pods of nectar and I wait impatiently for my monogrammed (I know pathetic right, but this is what coffee does to me!?) espresso cup to fill.
In my defense I never used to be one of those people that refuse a coffee,when you pop in for a cuppa and find they only have instant. What kind of uptight snob does that? Me that’s who, I hold my hands up and say it’s not my fault, it’s the expat lurking inside of me.
Growing up in the 90’s I was exposed to coffee on a massive peer pressure scale. Ross, Rachel and Friends were at their happiest hanging out at Central Perk devouring lattes by the dozen. Jersey didn’t take long to open up a similar establishment where first dates here had, study breaks taken and break ups dissected. But did we really like coffee or the idea we were grown up enough to drink it?
Some years later when moving to Prague, coffee was as free flowing as the Czech beer. In fact the entire city seemed to function on the two. I loved the fact that even a small “greasy spoon” would serve you up an incredible cup of coffee for next to nothing. And so the slippery slope began…the wedding gift never used came out the box and we ventured down to THE street in city. Nestled between Tiffany and Hermes we walked into a well known coffee brand which George often frequents.
The very fact that these shops are called boutiques says it’s all. They entice you with a wall of bejewelled pods, glistening back at you, handing over the little black card, proving you are part of this exclusive club, the excitement mounting as a new limited edition blend is offered for tasting. When did buying coffee become an experience and give me as much pleasure as, dare I say it, shoe shopping? I may very well need a coffee to get over that last statement!
Leaving Europe for the Middle East and a new healthier lifestyle of teetotal sun worshiping, I suspected we would find it hard to continue our coffee love (ok addiction). However what I quickly discovered and loved is the huge culture of coffee bars. Like the streets of any UK town lined with restaurants and bars serving up the latest cocktails, Kuwaitis are found socialising over their own Arabic teas, shisha and caffeinated mocktails.
The Seattle coffee giant are two a dinar here and I never thought sitting enjoying a reserve espresso, most days, would be my cup of tea (sorry couldn’t resist that beverage pun) but sitting under palm trees watching the world go by is a perk of this lifestyle. Let’s face is when will a flat white ever leave you flat!?