I left my heart in SanRemo. At Sabrina's cafe where I drink the best cappucino with all my family reunited, three generations taking over the street terrace.
I always say: "coffee is good anywhere I go in Switzerland". I never mind stopping for one in a random train station, on a random street in a neighborhood I am not very familiar with. I cannot go wrong! But I do have my top two favourite cafes in Geneva.
If I can, I will walk the extra mile to sit at Cafe Auer and order a large, small or cafe renverse depending on the time of day and how many coffees preceded the one I am pampering myself with now. I like to sit inside on a rainy or cold day, tight in the small space, on the leather canopied bench, staring at the tempting "worth every calorie" chocolate macarons or pine-nut mini muffin. My children have selected Cafe des Arts in Paquis, Geneva, as a sunday destination: hot ovomaltines and loads of chocolate croissants!
In Boston, the cafe I loved most was in the South End, the emerging gay neighborhood, where I sat amongst the guys, on long research-phd-time sundays and munched on a caramalized scone. In Harvard Square, I converted tables into study desks where I sat, memorized, wrote, analyzed and composed.
In Dubai, it is Barista, at Mall of the Emirates, facing a daunting Carrefour. I fuel up before my large shopping or pass by with a full cart and treat myself to a post groceries cappuccino.
Cafe culture is a culture in itself. I. studied in cafes. I composed stories. I spent good times with my friends. I took my kids. Sitting over a full cup of coffee, the paper ones with green mermaids, the porcelain ones with the name of the cafe in cursive, the glass ones that show case the brown elexir, the plastic ones that retain the iceness of the chilled coffees. The coffee got consumed, the caffeine got appreciated, the cup got empty and still I lingered.....