Café Culture

The ultimate expression of civilisation – that’s what I’d call them! I’m talking about cafés. Along with restaurants, bars and pubs – there’s something about sitting still and having food made for you and drinks poured for you that is just hard to beat. The café is a liminal space – half way between private and public. There is the private realm of eating, drinking and conversation. There is the public realm of the street, the passers-by and the traffic. And the café sits in between. It is the place of the flaneur – the drifter who simply observes. It is the place to read and to write and sketch – all the better to create a separation between self and environment – so that observation is easier. (Perhaps also it is the place of the poseur, who just enjoys others seeing them writing and sketching!) For a good café vibe there needs to be some other customers there. Not too many that it feels crowded. But not too few or it can feel awkward. And certainly not no other customers! Otherwise you almost might have preferred staying home. There needs to be a buzz of conversation, but no-one who has an annoyingly loud voice or an embarrassing laugh! That’s too much of a distraction (unless you’re in the mood for distraction). The staff, likewise, should not be too loud, and they should not be engaged in endless conversation with each other or with customers. Otherwise this just makes customers feel like they’ve stepped into a private party and their presence is not especially welcome. We just want friendly staff and a few brief exchanges with regulars – nothing more than that. That way, it stays special, and the divide between customer and staff is respected without being a burden. That’s the game we’re playing in a café. A table outdoors can be brilliant, tucked away slightly from passers-by – especially if it’s a busy street – so that you don’t feel people are about to walk into your table. Here, the café-goer must be on their best behaviour. A quick flick of the eye to passers-by is the most that should ever be ventured. You don’t want to be a gawper. Think how that feels for the gawpee – the receiver of gawps. Not good. In fact, it’s possibly best just to ignore passers-by altogether! If there’s a view – other than of other people – then drink it in! If you’re writing or typing, this usually works out fine – although perhaps it’s something of a wasted opportunity when you have an outdoor café table. If, on the other hand, you’re sketching, then the dynamic can change completely. You see, in a café seat indoors, other customers will flick glances towards you if you’re sketching (you become the gawpee) but they won’t approach. Too much of an intrusion. But at an outdoor table you become a little more part of the street. So people have more confidence in stopping and maybe having a chat. This can be very welcome – especially for the poseur. Three things make you a safe person to stop and speak to – a baby, a dog (preferably small and quiet) and a sketch book. And of those three, the sketch book is probably the most beneficial. For one thing, it’s not going to be sick over people. For another, it comes with greatly fewer costs and responsibilities than either babies or dogs. My best outdoor café experience (amongst several memorable ones) was on a rainy day in my home city of Edinburgh. It was summer (allegedly) but this was one of those days of heavy downpours we sometimes get in August – the month of festivals in the city. There was a big sunshade over the sturdy wooden table – and of course the sunshade acted as a fine umbrella on a day of rain. Around its edges there were little white lights. A large glass of wine and some salted mixed nuts. Perfect! I think I may have done a little writing, but otherwise I just stared out at the rain. Given the climate in Edinburgh (and Scotland generally) we don’t get too many chances for good outdoor café experiences. Some people will brave the weather, no matter what, because (and we can only rejoice in this) café culture has reached even the coldest and formerly austere parts of our nation! But for most of the year, that culture needs must take place indoors. You’ll have sussed by now that I’m a café snob, so generally I’ll be avoiding franchises! I want an owner that cares about their croissants, Danish pastries, muffins, scones and flapjacks. Some of our better cafés also get locally-made soup brought in from a place in the city that cooks with mostly local fresh ingredients and then distributes their wares in small metal urns, which they deliver by bicycle – the urns stored in a wicker basket at the front, or sometimes towed behind in a little metal trailer. That’s class! I’ve not found my perfect indoor café yet, although there are a few contenders that I visit regularly. One such is Qupi, a Greek establishment that makes everything on the premises. It’s an odd little place, tucked into some old buildings. As such, every seat in the café has its own particular character. There is only one true window seat, and it’s carefully fitted in, like a little desk with a window. I can spend three or four hours there, writing and ordering drinks and snacks. The staff maintains just the right level of friendliness without intrusion. Another is nearby – the Printworks Café. Better street views from here, and some outdoor tables. Food all made in-house. Indoors, and again a variety of great tables. There’s a subtle ambience to this place that seems to somehow allow people more conversation and interaction. Finally (although within a franchise) there is a lovely old armchair and small table, tucked neatly into a corner, by a window that looks out onto a small street. I call this the best seat in Edinburgh, and it forms part of a bookshop. So, I’ll call in when passing and see if the seat is free. If not, I’ll browse the bookshop and come back to try again. There’s always another café, restaurant and bar. If I could live in them forever, reading and writing, sketching and drawing, then that, for me, would be a perfect life. Call me a fanatic, but cafés could save the world!