A walk for a coffee or a coffee for a walk?

This question remains a dilemma for me. A walk for a coffee or a coffee for a walk? It looks the same, but it's not. What does that mean?

It means I take a walk downtown every weekend. A walk that ends with coffee! It could have many other things, but it's always coffee.

As is the famous dilemma...

Which came first, the hen or the egg?
It's the same for me.
Which came first, the walk or the coffee?

The answer is easier here than with the hen and egg question. In this combination, walk and coffee, the walk came first, but then the coffee became more important.

Coffee is addictive!
The walk, less so.

Sunday morning walk

Walk in the old city center of Bucharest, Romania. The route is the same every time, I like the beaten paths. The old center is like an island in the city center, an island of other times, the buildings and even the atmosphere seem from another century, the beginning of the twentieth century.

At some point, the steps lead to the place with the reward, i.e. the cappuccino.

Spring is coming to town. These olive trees, which in the winter have been wrapped in protective sheets, are seeing the sun again.

Coffee and flowers

I choose, as always, coffee!

The Coffee Shop

The cafe is small. It has a few seats at the tables for loyal customers. The others prefer coffee on the road, and coffee on the run.

My wife and I are loyal customers. We've been coming here for a few years now and yet, I get a thrill when I walk in. On this recent visit, I had a big surprise when I walked in and saw one of the baristas climbing up a ladder. Hard to describe but easier to understand when you see it.

There's a saying about who gets up in the morning... It's true, it's good to be early. We were the first customers.

It was unusual to see the barista so "high" up! I think that often something special or unusual happens in this place, when we drink coffee, we don't always notice or remember, but this time we managed to save the image.

We also found out why Dan was now so high. He was in charge of tending to the plants that grew among the coffee packets.

If I think about it, another unusual aspect was that the wife paid.

It was a day of surprises. Michael, our favorite barista, made cappuccinos for us. That happens pretty rarely. He's the boss!

This is the result of his work. Even now when I look at the photo I feel my taste buds suddenly become agitated...

It's time to show off our favorite place. Our table. The window table.

I like so much to look at the street while drinking my coffee. we stay there for almost an hour. We tell stories, make plans, and let ourselves be drawn in by the happenings on the street.

This is the street I came on. On the left is the imposing building of the National Bank of Romania. On the right is one of the most beautiful hotels in Bucharest, The Marmoroush Hotel.

I try to locate and give some pointers. Maybe, someday, one of you will arrive here, in the center of Bucharest, and want a good coffee.

Our table and the closest view. On the small street from the cafe there is a taxi stand and their exclusive parking lot.

In Bucharest, it is hard to find a parking space. I gave up driving downtown a long time ago. Those who pass through the area often find free parking in front of the cafe and leave their car there, without noticing that the place is reserved for taxis.

These drivers easily fall prey to police officers.

We often watch, helplessly, as fines are written. I love the reflections in the photos. This time our faces seem to be projected on the windows of the vis a vis.

Only this cat takes a stand, upset that she was disturbed by her nice nap under the car. The cat with only two legs...haha!

On departure, we followed the classic route through University Square. This is also a landmark, a place known to everyone. You have to ask.

As I mentioned at the beginning spring is taking its first steps, here is proof. A magnolia that starts to bloom, beyond the fence of the National Bank.

I don't know how to write fiction... but I like to write. That's why I write about myself and my life. I'm ashamed to write about myself, but I'm the only character I know. The eternal question is why anyone would be interested in what I do and what happens to me in this life. I don't know how to answer this question, and I try to introduce in each of my stories things that can be interesting for someone who reads: travel, art, music, hobbies, life. Since I don't know how to write well, I use a lot of photos. All made by me.