I have always had a fascination for Italian Bars so a few days ago while I was in Milan, I decided to go for a cappuccino to a famous Bar called “Cova“, in Via Monte Napoleone.
By the time I got there it was 11.30 on December 23rd, the busiest day of the year for shoppers, and to prove me right the street was rife with them. Each one seemed to have a shopping bag bigger than the next, some were so large they made me think of shields…shields from poverty, shields from an ordinary life, shields from a life with no purpose; I instead was walking empty handed, and as result feeling slightly self-conscious and exposed.
Thus rather dejected I walked in to “Cova” and suddenly I knew I had found my corner of paradise. The atmosphere was frantic, the noise level high, and the bar counter crowded, however none of these aspects bothered me, I instead was enveloped by a feeling of warmth, joy and expectant desire. As I huddled next to the other people waiting for my “cappuccino” I started watching the hands of the three waiters behind the bar, busy preparing endless cups of coffee. I felt I was looking at a form of art, their movements were graceful and filled with an elegance that reminded me of the hands of an orchestra director, where no movement is without purpose and beauty envelopes the whole.
As I stood waiting I noticed a group of Red Cross volunteers huddled around a few espressos, they seemed happy and content, and I was happy to be standing next to them, I wanted to thank them for their dedication but refrained, thinking they would rather be left alone to their espressos.
As I was sipping my hot, fragrant and wonderfully foamy cappuccino I was happy to be surrounded by people of all walks of life, people whom I might never meet again in my life, yet people with whom for one moment I shared a passion and that passion was enjoying a cup of coffee made to perfection…