Without knowing much more than the basics of making an espresso myself, last winter gave me quite a few bad or at least not-so-good espressos, and certainly only one really good.

I found the good one in Copenhagen while doing some general tourist stuff, at a place that looked quite ordinary. No fancy barista vibes, just coffee, baked goods, sandwiches, and they even had ready-made oatmeal porridge. But the espresso, smooth, no bitter “bad” tastes—just fabulous. This contrasted with the next morning in Malmö, visiting a place that is connected to a small-scale coffee roasting business. The place visually screams artisanal coffee and uniqueness, located in an old rustic building with exposed wooden beams. They sold their own roast of beans as well, but the espresso was meh at best.

To put a site up to host a small blog really is a small step, it seems. But listening to the desire to start writing seems to take the effort of a larger leap.

This is though the small step I take to write more, more of a type of text I never write these days, more of what I want to write and not more of what I need to write. A bit more of myself, condensed to text.