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small shed adorned with the title‘ Pause-Café’ invited, yet another caffeine hit would be consumed.
A man with the hands of a labourer, greeted us, his build displayed strength and power, yet his demeanour and a gentle timbre in his voice suggested he was a learned person and someone keen to understand his visitors.
We were persuaded to have our coffee with a hint of cardamom and quickly ushered to the rear of the establishment where an array of edible plants were being grown against the backdrop of the desert. All names were suggested in French, and we translated to English, our new friend quickly repeating many times as if making a mental register for future visitors.
We were invited to the mans home, deep within the side of the hillock, I tried to suggest we had a town in Australia where almost everyone lives this way. I found his abode fascinating, and he appreciated the interest. A common bound outside of just caffeine.
Here was a coffee that was good,
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