So occasionally it occurs to me that Bristol is actually a city. A really nice, friendly city which has delightful places, some of which are open when I finish a night shift. I’d been meaning to try Full Court Press which I cycle by on my way to work. They open at 0730 which means they’re just not quite open for me to get coffee on my way to work in the mornings, sadly, but they are open as I head home from work on a night shift.
But because of Kathryn’s shifts, I’ve often been coming home to see my beloved, and I’d rather come home and sneak an hour of sleep curled up with my wife than get coffee and a danish on the way home. But today I stopped and tried FCP.
The guys there were awesome. I honestly think I’ve never had better service (although it’s equal would be La Berlue (in Florac) who despite our one-word-in-fifty French chatted to us, even had Kathryn holding their baby, whilst we nattered in broken FrenGlish about books). I sat and chatted, and didn’t mind chatting despite it being after a night shift because they just made me so welcome. I supped some really excellent coffee* – and then was plied with samples. I rather excitedly discovered that they sell cold brew coffee – and having indicated my excitement was then offered a sample.
Now, the cold brew I had today was reminiscent, to me, of a light whisky, sort of. Certainly a spirit, it also packed a mean punch.
So I sat there, chilled, ate a danish, and when the exhaustion washed over me like a bag of jellied eels I made my excuses and hopped on my bicycle heading off to Hart’s Bakery, again. The intention was to pick up a loaf of bread to take home, and maybe a treat for midday. Of course, when I got there the overpowering hunger of the post-nights-desire-for-protein sucked me into getting one of their intriguing little egg-bacon-muffin thingies.
And then I headed home.
So I wandered up the garden enjoying the not-quite-summer-not-quite-autumn morning, the sun shining, the gentle warmth, and as I reached the top of the garden, there sat the deck and the temporary table I’d made by throwing a pallet on top of the cast iron legs of a table. Next to the table sat the handily placed metal chair saved from the nettles at my mum’s allotment years ago.
I looked at it and I thought, y’know, it’d be a criminal waste not to enjoy this.
Although, it’s slightly fraudulent, because I think if I consume any more caffeine at this point in the day I will not be able to sit down again until tonight, so I just popped the (excellent) FCP bottle on the table for the photo, before slipping it in to the fridge. I actually bought a bottle because I thought my best beloved might enjoy it.
Anyhow, I sat, chilled out, ate breakfast. And now I’m going to get my hour’s kip before the rest of the day continues…
In other news, we’ll be getting recycled denim insulation for the house, I think. Got the quote today, I don’t think there’s much in it between fibreglass and recycled denim; but to work with this stuff is meant to be nicer and it’s more environmentally sound. So yay, and ultra huge thanks to, I think Wibble, for the suggestion.
* Incidentally, their pet hate is the word ‘tasty’ to describe coffee. Which having discovered this I immediately suggested was ‘nice tasty coffee’ ;)
