Midnight Coffee

Having two small children means that we don't go out an awful lot in the evenings - babysitters are expensive! So it's rare for me to be out late at night except for the occasional dash to the video store before they close in the hopes that I won't get a late fine. But when I do happen to be out late (ish) I'm always amazed at how busy it is in our "urban village" of Rathmines in Dublin.

For a while I've been meaning to go out for a cup of coffee late at night just to see what is going on. So last night I took advantage of the clocks going back an hour to go out for coffee at midnight.

I decided to go to Eddie Rockets, one of a chain of faux American 1950's diners at 21st century Ireland prices. I knew they would be open late because I had previously seen a sign in the window giving some lame reason why they had to charge extra after midnight.

I sat at a stool at the bar (of course, why wouldn't you?) and ordered a cup of coffee. I was pleased to see they served Fairtrade. The staff were wearing uniforms appropriate for the theme of the restaurant complete with a hat that sported their cutesy slogan, Eat and Get Out! I only counted six staff. Two chefs, two waitresses, a dishwasher and a manager. 100% foreign nationals - the norm for the service industry in Ireland today.

The restaurant was actually quieter than I hoped it would be. A small group of teenage lads huddled around a bowl of fries, a man staggered in drunk but caused no trouble, and a me at the bar writing things down in my notebook. One of the waitresses looked like she really didn't want to be there and the other one yawned - she told the junior chef that she was tired. Tired everyday. And for a while some of the staff talked about their struggle with learning the English language.

I decided to stay a little while longer and ordered a second cup of coffee - partly to see if anything interesting happened and partly to see whether they provided free refills in coffee. It didn't really and they don't. I think I shall write to Mr Rocket and ask why a basic tenet of American dinerism is not provided.

Soon a girl and her boyfriend came in and decided to stay to eat rather than return to their apartment. She has obviously come out in her pyjamas which might seem odd to some, but was actually the third girl I had seen out and about in their p.j.s that day.

All in all it was a bit unremarkable. But, for me, this was in itself sort of interesting. An hour spent watching ordinary lives, but taking time to notice something about them. I tried to picture their faces again as I walked home praying for them.

I left the diner wondering a number of things about culture, assimilation, working night shifts and what the other people would do after they left the restaurant. But I mostly wondered how staff could put up with working in an environment that played 50's music all day every day. And I wondered if I was going to have trouble going to sleep when I got home.

Cafe Coombe

I don't go to Cafe Coombe very much.

The first time was when I went to The Coombe Hospital with my wife for the ultrasound scan of our first child.

The second time I went was for the ultrasound scan of our second child.

I went to Cafe Coombe again today...

Swanning Around

Every two years the denomination whom I am a minister in (The Salvation Army) hold a conference for the 1,400+ people in "full-time" ministry. While my wife and I work as partners in ministry only one of us could attend because of our young children. I drew the short straw...and had to go.

My dad was also attending so I took the opportunity to fly over to Bournemouth and drive with him up to the conference centre in Swanwick, Derbyshire. I enjoyed the drive for a couple of reason. First, because I am rarely the passenger in long car journeys so I was able to sleep a little. Second, it was a nice opportunity to learn a little family history - particularly my dad's childhood.

We took a break on the way up and stoped at a motorway service area to get a cup of coffee. As we walked in, who should be walking out but my brother-in-law also on his way to the conference! (Are you sensing a family business?)

I won't bore you with the details of what I thought was a disappointing conference. I don't tend to use this blog to evaluate particular areas of ministry within The Salvation Army - if you're interested in people who do you might find some here. Suffice to say, for me the best part was skipping out of an evening session to go out for coffee (and treacle pudding) with my dad and brother-in-law where we spent a couple of hours evaluating particular areas of Salvation Army ministry.

They're Back

Most coffeeshops nowadays will have even a small selection of syrup flavourings to put in your coffee. I can't abide them. Partly because they promote the creation of very strange flavours of coffee - I was once in an M&S Cafe Revive with my dad and he was persuaded by a very persistent coffee girl to add a shot of orange flavour syrup to his cappuccino (yuck! yuck! yuck!) - but also because I don't have sugar in my coffee so I don't like any sweetener added. (I also went through a phase of no milk either, but I'm over that now except for the occasional early morning kick start).

However, I will happily have a sweet accompaniment - a danish, a cookie, or a muffin. Of course, you can't beat a bar of chocolate, and for years, in my opinion, you couldn't beat a Cadbury's Wispa. Then they just disappeared from our shelves. Just like the Gambit bar (half milk chocolate, half dark - anyone remember that?), the Wispa seemed destined to never be enjoyed again.

I bet you can guess where I'm going with this.

A few days ago as I was walking down the street my eye caught a glimpse of a dark blue wrapper with red and gold lettering. A Wispa? Can't be? Where did that come from? Has there been a whole in the space-time continuum (whatever that means) and an empty wrapper has floated into existence? Rushing to the nearest sweet shop (a much better word than convenience store when reminiscing about childhood things) I scanned the racks of chocolate in the vain hope that something wonderful should appear. Alas, no.

I thought it best to explain to the shopkeeper what I was searching for so I didn't look stupid. And then - joy of joys - the reply came that indeed Cadbury's had come to their senses and relaunched the Wispa! Their stock had sold out within hours and it would be a few days until they returned.

Today was that day. Wispa was in stock. I bought three just to be on the safe side.

Immediately my mind went back to my schoolboy days of the mid eighties. Coming home from school I would make a cup of coffee (I guess I did start young) and enjoy the Wispa that I had bought from the school tuck shop. (I bet they don't even have tuck shops in schools anymore, tut). The whole experience being rounded off with some watching Philip Schofield in a broom cupboard.


By the way, Wispas also work well with tea.

By the way again, Cadbury are only dong a limited run to see if this most excellent of chocolate bars is still viable. Perhaps tomorrow I'll buy three more. Maybe you should too.

Lessons in Community

This afternoon I managed to get away to a coffeeshop for an hour to do some studying. I'm on the last leg of my (procrastinated) distance learning degree in Theology. All I have to work on now is my dissertation. I've chosen for my subject, 'What does it mean to be a community church in the 21st Century?' No doubt you'll hear more about this between now and the February deadline.

So I sat at my preferred table at the back with a latte and a four berry muffin and worked my way through a stack of books, dipping in here and there for sections that would be helpful to return to and read more fully. At one point I stopped what I was doing and looked around at the other cafe dwellers - this is why I have a preferred table - and noticed an interesting phenomenon. Almost all the tables were occupied, but it was all people on their own. What was more interesting was that everyone had sat on the side of their table where they could face everyone else. No one had their back turned to another.

So as I and my company sat there reading books, doing newspaper crosswords, texting, and drinking coffee I was struck by the question, why are we here? (Not an existentialist examination of life of course. I'm talking about our presence in the coffeeshop). Everything that was individually going on within that space could have easily been done elsewhere in complete solitude.

I wondered if what I was experiencing was a desire for community. Perhaps, collectively, we sensed some sort of connection with one another, a common act of being together and drinking coffee, a type of communion - all be it a false, unrealised one.

I wondered if there were others present who, like me, would have been happy to put down their book/newspaper/phone to interact and talk about something. Anything! But that would have taken effort.

So I learned my first (obvious) lesson about community without reading it in a book, but experiencing it in life: in order for community to occur it needs more than just desire. It needs inertia.

Mist and Mellow Fruit

For some time now we, as a family, have been meaning to go back to St Annes's Park. So today, waking to a blue October sky, we headed across to the north side of the city. We were not disappointed.

Within the Red Stables courtyard of the park a Farmers Market is held every Saturday. I love farmers markets. There are always little pieces to try for free - cheeses, fruit cakes, olive oils, pesto... And there is always a coffee stand set up. As I queued for a drink I had time to savour the smells of the various coffee beans for sale. There were about eight half-barrels containing beans from around the world inviting me to plunge my hand in and retrieve a handful of beans to savour the smell. Intoxicating! (I wondered if the people behind me thought that I should use the scoop provided, but that would be missing out on half of the sensory experience.) I've told you before that, if available, I will support coffee growers from Ethiopia so I opted for a fairtrade blend that did just that.

As my young children looked at the stall with the handmade wooden toys I feasted my eyes on the fruit and veg stalls - carrots with dirt on, apples of all hues, red onions, purple cauliflower and varieties of pumpkin I have never seen before, all combining to form a deliciously sweet smell that you could taste in your nose and throat. (I should have got a bottle of the pressed apple juice.)

Leaving the courtyard, laden with coffee, pear and cinnamon muffins, and the prospect of returning for lunch, we strolled through the trees to a really excellent wooden playground.

Across to my left a church bell struck its chords from within its fire-red ivy-clad tower. Ahead of me a mid-morning haze caused the golden, autumnal sun to cut through the trees in visible shafts.

This is why I love the Autumn best.

(John Keats does a better job of describing it than me.)

On the Radio

I was a special guest on a local radio show today. I say 'today', but it was recorded live to be broadcast on Sunday.

I've done some stuff on radio and TV a couple of times before with other people, but it has always been with a script. Today was just me and the presenter with no script so I was a bit nervous. Fortunately there was a Starbucks just meters away so I was able to grab a coffee before we got started. I also blatantly ignored the signs and took the drink into the studio with me. It helped.

It was just a half hour piece where I was interviewed about The Salvation Army and my role in it, and also about my Christian faith. I was also asked to choose three songs to play. For various reasons I chose:

The Hymn, 'Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven'
A track by Coldplay, 'A Message'
And finally, 'You led me to the cross' by Matt Redman. We only got about 45 seconds of that one before it was faded out because of time. Never mind.

Unfortunately the radio station is only a small, community based project that doesn't have the capacity to listen online. So unless you are going to be somewhere in the region of south Dublin on Sunday at 5:30pm you won't be able to hear it. If I can get a copy of the programme I'll try and podcast it, but don't hold your breath as I have no idea how to do that! (Suggestions, anyone?)