A rest day in Westport today.
We climb up a long large hill and then down it to get there. Should have taken the bikes. I’ve yet to have my coffee and the one waiting for me at the end of the walk is a poor imitation of one.
Westport is a small but bustling town. Very touristy, it has all the requisite pubs and cafes and souvenir shops.
God I miss Melbourne coffee. I miss the anticipation of it, going down in the lift and clicking my heels on the flagstones in the alley. I miss my friendly barristas who know that my ¾ cap should be 75% full in the morning and 67% full in the afternoon…without me mentioning it, or even for that matter, ordering it. I miss hearing the coffee grinder and then feeling its rich aroma hit my senses and lift my spirits. I miss the anticipation of the first sip and lingering over the last one. Twice a day, time stops, and coffee, as opposed to Google, is my friend.
And I miss it.