The Algerian coffee shop was a strange footnote in a bizarre London trip. It is in the heart of SoHo. I took a morning stroll there, with Sister, and it turned into an event, as most travels with my Sister turn out. In. Into.
The place itself, from memory, was packed with that old-school kind of coffee canisters and containers, all the earmarks of lovely coffee place. They made single and double shots of espresso. I don’t think there was anything else. An assortment of tea, but the primary product was coffee.
Around my Sister? Feed her some espresso. It’s a memorable experience.
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I think there are little vortices around Geminis that attract strange or unusual events and people. My mother was a Gemini, and my father and I pretty much had the attitude that said, OK, let the miracle happen. Because when you went home, you just never knew what you’d find her in the middle of when you opened the door. Or we’d go out to get a bite to eat and end up chatting with visitors from Baton Rouge (in Connecticut??) or practically adopting a street vendor and his music box for the evening. We just never knew, but always an adventure.
and god forbid we should buy her an espresso!
I know, right?