A Scottish adventure

A long weekend in Scotland didn't lend itself to too much coffee tourism (cofourism?). Often the coffee I stumbled upon was functional rather than flavoursome which is a sad state of affairs.

Things started badly with a carelessly made coffee at Edinburgh Airport Costa. Amongst its many crimes, this cup was overfilled and subsequently spilt over my legs in the wild cab ride that followed. It was late and the coffee provided the hot caffeine that I needed. It served a function but no more, it was not a good cup.

My last coffee before returning to the airport was from Perth Hospital. It smelt very poor so before I had even had a drop I new that I would not be bowled over by this. My mother had shrewdly asked them to keep the water content down. That at least gave this low quality fare a kick. I won’t even start on her Cappuccino.

Alongside this we had some highly processed cakes and I was amazed how a little sweetness on the side really works so well with coffee. It made this drinkable and the view helped too.

Too much coffee is made as a fuel, the equivalent of Aftershock, a crying shame. Strong coffee like strong spirits can and should be a pleasure. Something to savour, something crafted at every stage and when it hits your throat it should be something that rewards and wows the drinker into silence.