I have been incredibly lucky having the opportunity to travel quite a bit since our first family vacation in Greece when I was about two years old. Since my dad also likes to travel constantly and I get restless if I’ve been in one place for too long, I am convinced that I have the wanderlust gene. Since exploring the world makes me incredibly happy, I’ve always prioritized it over other means of “investing” my money. We have often talked about buying a house, for instance, but I can’t stand the thought of not being able to travel as much as I would like to in order to be able to pay off a mortgage. Even though I started appreciating a bit of quiet time at home when we got our cats, I feel like I can only truly recharge my batteries when I am far away from home, where I can’t do household chores and am not thinking about work calls and social media.
I have wanted to write a coffee-related post for a while, but have always told myself that I didn’t know enough about coffee to justify doing so. But I guess you can never be an expert in everything. Therefore, I’ve decided to post a short review of the coffee shop scene in Boston. I have been to a lot of coffee shops in the US, but I feel like the hipster coffee scene, what others would probably rather call third wave coffee, has become sort of mainstream in Boston. Of course, I’ve only been to a limited number of cafés recommended on various coffee blogs, but I feel like you can get a good cup of coffee in almost any coffee shop. Even their batch brews are quite good. Their flavor profile is usually less complex than that of pour- overs, but the taste is still smooth and the beans have not been roasted to death. I also liked the fact that quite a few of the coffee shops we went to used Kalita Waves for their pour-overs. It is also my filter coffee brewing method of choice because it is easy to use and the brew is usually rich in flavor.
I am what Alain Botton, the author of A Week at the Airport, would call a nomadic spirit, who cannot commit to any one country, who shies from tradition and is suspicious of settled community, and who is, therefore, nowhere more comfortable than in the intermediate zones of the world, landscapes gashed by kerosene storage tanks, business parks and airport hotels. In short, the airports of the world and the cabins of Boeings, Airbusses, Embraers, Canadair Regional Jets and Bombardier Dashs are my second home.