Strangely, or should I rather say coincidently? Many of my previous posts were written in cafes. Cafes of different styles. Vintage cafes with an old-fashioned charm, stylish ones with prime focus on minimalism, family-run cafes with a homely atmosphere, and exotic taverns with beautiful sea views, located either on a Greek or Gran Canaria island.
I had a cup of cappuccino and icecream in a tiny family-run cafe in a small town in Tenerife, which is just below the Volcano Teide. The owner, an elderly woman, wasn’t particuarly keen to have a conversation with us, most likely a consequence of language barriers.
I have a bad reputation of being unreliable when having family trips. The children often complain that I would disappear at any time and leave them to their father without giving them any notice. I acknowledge my flaw. I’m frequently drawn to nostalgic cafes and vintage shops, which I think are far more interesting than theme parks or science museums.
On that autumn afternoon we paid a visit to Skansen Open-Air museum in Stockholm. When the children were enjoying the interaction with horses and cows, I disappeared into a traditional Swedish style cafe, which had a astonishing display of cakes and cinnamon buns.
I ordered a cup of tea and was served a mug of Earl Grey with milk. My apply pie topped with whipped cream was enormous. Sitting at the round small table made of stone or marble, I sipped my tea and marvelled at the view of the trees and garden. The leaves were loosing their colour and falling. Some were blown away by the wind.
I pretended to be a woman living in the 19th century, thinking what they might’ve been thinking on an autumn day like this. The rain was dripping down the window, the green was turning soft yellow. A sure sign of winter approaching slowly, and cautiously.