The memory of a coffee addict

There was something strange that happened to me as a coffee lover, or in my case, rather a coffee addict, 🤭 around a month ago.

Actually, considering the fact that I am addicted to coffee, the incident was not so unusual. Unusual was the other part.

So, we were in a city when my boyfriend suggested to have a coffee at a coffee shop.
"We've already been there once", he told me.

But when we got there, nothing about the place felt familiar. Nothing in its exterior and garden where we sat. Nothing in its chairs and tables, nothing in the arrangement of the flowers around and the decoration. Nothing.

"We haven't been here", I told my friend.
I am categorical. I don't know anything about this place. There's no way we could have been here before.

"On the contrary, we used to come here, but You don't remember.", he said.
"Who - me, doesn't remember? There's no way I can't remember things like that."
And that's true. There are other things I have trouble remembering. But not that. Not a cafe, architecture, design. Not details. Especially details. Details are what I usually notice and remember best.

And here it came. They served me the coffee I had ordered - espresso, as I have been drinking it for some time in cafes.
And then I remembered. Only then.
Seeing the cup and the lettering on it, the brand of coffee written all over and the decorated coffee cup and spoon.

I remembered that I had come here and had coffee like this before. Actually, I only remember the coffee, the same cup but bigger, because then when we came here before, probably a year or two ago, I had a long coffee here. And I only remember the cup, because I have never had such coffee anywhere else. Only here and only once. I know this now for sure.

Here they serve the coffee along with a little chocolate made in Italy and I was so surprised that I took pictures of it from all sides as a souvenir. Even because it lacks palm oil in its ingredients. I couldn't believe my eyes.

They also serve it with those popular fortune slips that Lavazza is mostly known for. Therefore, I had no choice but to take a picture of my fortune slip this day. (Bulgarians never learned to make an exact translation of some words - here the meanings of the two written words are very different.)

And here are the rest of the ordered things. Of course, as a coffee addict, it's normal for me to ignore everything else and write only and exclusively about a small cup of coffee.

The coffee that restored my memory.
The coffee that is vital and most important always.

Believe me if you want, but this cake was not for me. I only ordered coffee. 😁

I photographed it because it was beautiful. And believe me if you want, but if you ask me now what it tasted like, I won't be able to tell you.

It's like I'm having a memory blackout again.

But that's only because I was occupied with my coffee and I was amazed at how quickly my memory returned,

I was amazed at how I could remember a cup that I had only ever seen once.

The cake is almost finished, but it doesn't matter at all. I drink my drink of life.

It was delicious. I'm sure. There's no way it wasn't. But as I told you, I don't remember. 😁

Because my coffee is already finished.
And that's the most important thing.

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Copyright: @soulsdetour

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	Soul's Detour is a project started by me years ago when I had a blog about historical and not so popular tourist destinations in Eastern Belgium, West Germany and Luxembourg. Nowadays, this blog no longer exists, but I'm still here - passionate about architecture, art and mysteries and eager to share my discoveries and point of view with you.