I’m never going to forget the coffee I had at Departure Coffee.
Quite apart from loving the space and the coffee – the day I went down to Departure Coffee was the day my car was towed. In one of those unlucky but lucky incidents that can sometimes stick a spanner into a perfectly good day. I used the EasyPark app instead of putting an analog ticket in my car and when I returned it was gone and in its place one of those orange stickers you hopefully haven’t had to deal with yet.
I went to the designated car pound, waited behind two women who seemed to be paying around €3oo to retrieve their cars. When it was my turn, I waved my phone at them and railed against the injustice of it all. “You are never going to get out of there without paying up first.” Anjalina warned me. “You can claim it back later, just get your car back.”
The woman behind the window passed me over to the man behind the shuttered window. He switched to Catalan and called in the man who operated the tow truck and had a word. Tow truck man shrugged his shoulders quite a lot.
It turned out, he had miss read my license plate. It wasn’t my fault. I signed “here” and “here” and 45 minutes and €7 in cab fare later – I had my car back. Like I said one of those unlucky / lucky events. (I am never using a parking app again though.)
Was a trip to Departure worth that? Yup. It’s diagonally across from Lukumas (my favourite donuts in the city by a long stretch). There is a large black wooden door roughly the dimension of one I would expect to find on a country barn. Inside there is a generous amount of space with few tables to fill it. You can sit and tap out at your computer or have a conversation without rubbing thighs with a stranger. (A plus depending on the stranger.)
I choose to sit at the antique door press and flip through something. For me the decadence of a good coffee and a food glossy
trumps (the 45th president has ruined this word for me) is better than a spa day.
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1 Calle de la Virgen