Good morning, Elephantine Coffee Knight

What do you need where you're going?

is a much easier question than

Where are you going?

so I figure I'll take it for now, and make up my mind on the way down where I may, according to legend, find turtles, or not. Guess we'll see when we get there, huh? But for now, we're stopping in the town of Pardubice, in the Czech Republic, which I was lured to specifically on the promise that I'd find a nice specialty coffee place.

One thing I've always deplored (and I've seen my share of train stations, sometimes in big, busy cities, sometimes in the middle of nowhere) is the absence of good cuisine, and more importantly, good coffee nearby. Hey, I get it, when you're in a rush, functioning on three hours of sleep, you'll take whatever coffee you can get, and I've had my share of that as well, I do assure you. Now, I try to make sure I get my caffeine in before leaving for the station and had done so this time, as well, but by the time we got to Pardubice, one needed a top-up.

Lucky there was one hidden right around the corner, huh?

Now, that's smart to me, even though I'm sure many wary travelers will settle for the train station stuff, there's (I think) enough people who'll walk the tiny extra bit for some solid, honest-to-God brew.

I loved the atmosphere right away, the glass and the wood, the colorfulness, and the generous menu. The barista's arms covered in tattoos, and the secret bathroom down the stairs. As far as I was concerned, I could've easily spent the rest of my visit to the town in this place, but for the sake of compromise, we settled on a long coffee break, watching the people through the big glass walls.

I love me a good, intimate setting, and as the cold slowly descends on us, I have a vision of myself cozied up in just such places for long, wet afternoons. But for a sunny weekend morning, exploring some place unknown, a spy glimpse into the lives of strangers is just what the doctor ordered.

I like places that are colorful, and go take pictures of them for when I forget what colors look like. That's why there's tote bags and leaves, and nice, bright-looking things, the same way I was once. Sorry, this is devolving. In the space between paragraphs, a landslide occurred, trapping children, trapping hags. There's a salvage effort, though already, in their hearts, those digging decide how to break the news to their kin, and what to do with the good new shoes they bought only last week. Someone ought to get them.

Of course, this being a Czech joint, there's a good offering of beer and wine even in a coffeehouse, though everyone seemed to be sampling the "nealko" delights while we were there, at least.

I found an immediate ease with the vibe, it seemed the sort of place I could gladly wait for somebody, and fall in love, though not write or read too engrossedly. In my experience, it seems places are usually one or the other, but not always both, and I'm starting to wonder if it might be the same for people, and the choices they make. But maybe those are thoughts too heavy for a before-noon pit-stop.

Coffee arrived. A humble yay. While I have no problem with restaurants delivering dishes at different times, giving just one person their coffee seems a recipe for trouble. Still, @godfish was nice enough to let me photograph and sample his coffee until mine arrived.

Nice guy. Still got all his limbs and everything.

Now, the only reason I don't have about a dozen of these gorgeous-style cups in my own home is that I already have at least fifteen other mugs from various places, moods, and times. Otherwise, I'd be completely sold on these little beauties.

Anyway, for our visit to Putovní Pražírna, we decided to get different variants of the variety of the day, a Kenyan Arabica, full of nutrients and deliciousness. The gentleman, if I remember, had the filtered version which came sans duck lips, but with plenty of delightful fruity hints and whispers, while I opted for the V60.

Yes, it's all about aesthetics. I love the song and dance they do whenever you order one. Talk about fruity. It was interesting to play between two versions of the same coffee, like a mirror leap of the same person. For the V60, I thought the fruits were almost overpowering (you got blackcurrant, grapefruit and honey), which is always dicey for me. I have a love-hate thing going on with fruity coffee.

Like, I'll fool around with one when out and about, but I'd never take one home with me. You know what I mean?

(Besides, look how pretty they all are togehter!)

And did you notice the little elephant printed on the table? The older I get, the more messages animals seem to bring to me, or perhaps it's just my mind slipping on the fresh-washed floor. I took this elephant to be a positive, though. Let my attention linger on him a second, before drifting back to my coffee.

While mine was punchier thanks to the fruit, his was punchier thanks to the bared fists and bikini scoreboard ladies, two variants of the same thing, similar at the core, but in little surprising ways, different if kept if you sampled them too long. Kinda like people.

I love these little maps, not because I consider them some innovative or unique part, but precisely because they're not, and thus remind me of other maps, in other coffeehouses, in places near and far. This one reminded me of a lovely little roastery in downtown Edinburgh, for instance. Funny, the way the world is held together on loose, invisible strings inside your mind, huh?

Anyway, we finished our coffees, zipped up our coats, and set off to explore the rest of what Pardubice had to offer. :)