Back in The UK after a Summer Sunshine Vacation,the first glimmer of light after walking through Passport Control and Customs at 3am is the Large Branch of Costa Coffee the other side of the barrier.
With Stinging Eyes and a freshly printed copy of Metro I order a medium Cappuccino. Paul Weller’s Changing Man is playing on the sound system as about 50 or 60 drowsy customers murmur to one another while glaring into their portable electronic devices.
One group of Hoodie laden young men were sat around a large wooden table spitting out words from the gutter in a form of bravado bonding commonplace in British Suburbs. They weren’t particularly bothering anybody at least.
My coffee was like medicine, not in taste but in it’s soul awakening qualities. The taste was the usual high quality Italia Formula Roast. I enjoyed the first cup and quickly realised it would be a ‘good’ two hours before I’d be able, if lucky, to get a Southern Railways Train on to my next destination.
Amongst the gloomy times we can always find something to be thankful about. I am certainly thankful for Costa this morning. How do their staff manage to work such shifts?