The Barista and the other Italian

A couple of Mondays ago  I went to WOYTON and had one of the best lattes in Düsseldorf. It was the one on Mittelstraße, which has a small european charm and Baristas with excellent latte-art skills. 

I told him the Barista that I loved his latte art and he was so pleased that I had noticed. We exchanged a few words about our personal favourite designs and just generally smiled a lot. He told me that he loved art and loved coffee, so being a barista was his dream job. he looked so content and so competent behind the bar, crafting the coffee with care and pride. It was beautiful to watch.

I carried my precious latte outside and started to sip it slowly under the burgundy veranda, but it started to storm so all the outside-cafe-sitters squeezed inside, sharing tables and engaging each other in conversation.  I'm always one for spontaneous community so I sat there feeling pretty proud of humanity, writing in my notebook and sipping my latte. One man asked me whether Der Räuber Hotzenplotz was my favourite book and I had to meekly explain that I was from England and a little tired of reading intellectual German books so decided to read children's literature instead. I felt like such a dork, but I think I handled it well. He then asked me what I was writing. This is always difficult to articulate. I told him I was partly writing a diary and partly writing a blog. He then asked me what my blog was called, where he could find it and why I wrote it. I realised this conversation wasn't going to be over quickly.

After explaining that I was writing a blog about my year abroad, that I was working at the at the theatre and that I study German and Italian, I was suddenly aware of the excitement in the man's face as he exploded with 'sono italiano und deutsch'. Turns out he's half Italian and half German. What do ya know!!?? The guy next to us (who turned out to be a barista off duty) then decided to also join in on our conversation and we spent a wonderful hour or so putting the world to right and sipping free coffee.

I have since returned to this Woyton most days and have always found a friendly face with whom I can chat to. The Italian is somewhat of a social creature and always seems to have made a new friend with the person sitting next to him - one of the women turned out to be a doctor at the hospital and she recognised me! We have struck up what seems to be a life-long friendship, where we meet by accident, talk about God in a combination of German or Italian and drink coffee outside under the veranda. He is my long-lost Italian brother and I am his long-lost Italian sister. I feel like he's been sent from God to help me with my languages, honestly! The barista dude is always ready to give me extra coffee and throw me a winning smile. He tends to sit at my table during his cigarette breaks and ask me about what I'm writing about or how work at the theatre is going. Then there's the other baristas who always recognise me and ask me how things are going and comment on my coffee order. It's a wonderful, wonderful place and I haven't even really got started on how much I love it. So expect more blogs about Woyton soon.

And yes I know I always blog about coffee!!! 

1 comment :

  1. Is your life real? Like, seriously? It's Gilmore-esque, you have to write a TV show about your life one day. And star in it.