This shot of colorful boat-shaped tables outside a seaside cafe in Menton had me recall tables we had come across near an outdoor museum kiosk a few days earlier.
The museum kiosk had, unbeknownst to me, a hierarchy of tables. I thought we could sit down and have a cup of coffee, but was quickly informed my the waitress that sitting down was only for patrons ordering dishes for lunch. If I wanted coffee, I had to stand at the narrow table, like at the counter of a bar. Spend less money, stand; spend less, sit. This reminded me of a darkly comic scene out of Céline’s “Death on the Installment Plan” where he relates how the shopkeeper he was working for in Paris was such a penny-pincher he wouldn’t allow Céline time off during the day to go to the bathroom.
We often saw this in Italy: having to stand to drink your coffee or at least pay more for it if you wanted to sit. But, it sometimes made sense because we often saw someone gulp down their espresso in one swallow. Not a lot of lolling over that cup.
Reminds me of the first cup of coffee Charlie and I ever had in Italy (in 2000). We were in Rome, jet lagged, and had to stand to drink our cappuccinos. We both couldn’t believe how good they tasted. I said “we’ve gotta remember this place so we can come back.” Little did we know, but after that almost every place we had coffee all over Italy had equally good coffee.
How’s the coffee been in France?
The cappuccinos I keep ordering, whether they’re from a kiosk or café, have been excellent, like the one I referred to in Nice from “the best coffee shop on earth”. The stand up coffee distinction I witnessed was in a park outside the Chagalll museum where everyone was in loll, rather than hurry, mode so I thought it was kind of funny. In Paris, where everyone is in a hurry, I wouldn’t have been so surprised.