Tokyo

 

Tokyo is a city of magic. A city which never sleeps, nor stands still for even a moment. Crowds of bustling tourists and residents alike venture down the streets and the sounds of horns seem to never cease as taxis begin queuing on the streets. Salary men carrying suitcases heavy with paperwork march down the train stairs, narrowly avoiding the wandering tourists, amazed by Tokyo’s vibrant atmosphere. The countless travel blogs read didn’t do it justice. Street vendors, with a golden smile of imperfect teeth, give their customers dishes prepped with care and love. Yakiimo. Yakitori. Yakisoba. The street is full of compliments and laughter – ‘Itadakimasu!’ groups of students recite as they hungrily devour the food before they journey to school.  

But, despite all this movement, there is one place which never seems to move with as much urgency – a small shop, with a single barista working through the oncoming orders. The smell of coffee. The coolness of air conditioning. It’s a comforting place. Though the bell attached to the door rings out relentlessly, the atmosphere inside is calm and serene – a contrast to the pavement outside. White sheets hang elegantly from the overhang outside, creating comforting shade from Tokyo’s blazing heat, and the peaceful music from the speakers lulls its customers into a daze.

Ding! The bell rings to indicate a new customer – a lady in a draping white coat. A bag is slung over one shoulder whilst a phone is clamped safely in her hand. After placing her order, she draws out the chair from underneath a small wooden table. A coffee to have in. Buzz! The coffee machine has completed another order and accompanied by a friendly grin from the barista, yet another drink is completed.

The barista is at ease. Take an order, prepare the drink, serve with a smile, repeat. The coffee is his canvas, using the foamed milk to display his artistic skills: a leaf, a heart, a swan. What will he draw next?

At the end of the day, when the last customer has savoured their cup of coffee, the barista shuts up the shop with the same ease. Clean the windows and surfaces, stack the chairs, turn off the lights. Even after finishing, a coffee aroma remains prominent – but it’s never overwhelming and is something the barista finds solace in. Taking off his black apron, the barista locks the door whilst taking one last peek at his shop. Click. The lock turns and the coffee shop is left in complete stillness. Frozen in time. Until tomorrow.

By Katie-may Bridges