Rewarding Coffee

I’m sitting in a Soho Starbucks, drinking a grande skinny latte and remembering the first coffee I actually enjoyed. I was 16 and in Romania, building a school for post-orphanage children and we had nothing. We ate stale bread and grapefruit and drank fizzy water (another taste I mastered on that trip) and black coffee with a LOT of sugar.

The likelihood is that I didn’t actually enjoy the coffee but its warmth and that sweetness of the sugar that took the edge off. Romania had some pretty miserable days when it rained and taking a coffee break was something we learned to love. It was comforting in a ‘we’re all in this together, let’s try to grow up’ way. It was also the only treat we had access to in the rural expanse of the village.

Needless to say, the caffeine was addictive and on returning to the UK, I drank more of it that ever. It was never very good though and as I gently adjusted to the comforts of home, I reverted back to tea. Now, I’ll never drink coffee at home but ALWAYS when I’m out. I think I still consider it a treat. Not that I drink it with sugar anymore or without milk but there’s something in its taste that reminds me of working hard for something important. It’s probably why I’m out of the house more and procrastinating less. And for that, it’ll receive my eternal thank-you.