I remember at the age of eight spending what then seemed like hours browsing through the books of the library of my school. My eyes sparkled with eagerness at every page I turned trying to make the difficult decision of which books to take home.
The smell of old paper and the quietness of the place, assured by the observant tall lady who would always call me by my second name, are defiant into fading away and vaguely linger as a memory that brings me warmth.
Maybe my love for words and for how engaging with them gives me the licence to live so many lives and to share so many tales, blossomed as soon as I learned how to read or perhaps it might be a genetic predisposition, in which case, I must gracefully accept my fate.
As I walk around this little cafe or bookstore, some may say, I lose myself, fascinated by the many covers and puzzled by the language in which they are written and in which I so fervently take my first steps – German requires patience and a certain palate to be mastered and appreciated.
If it was to my discretion, Sinatra’s collection would be universal anthems. So I can not be blamed for disapproving of the soundtrack played at Buch&Bohne, which was some pop songs, catchy enough to make me at some points hum along mentally.
The coffee was second to none, well balanced, full bodied dark roast. Somewhat earthy and was nicely complimented by the chocolate cake, I chose from the unfair duel against a lonely piece of walnut cake.
Buch & Bohne did not, at the time of my visit, sell any food, but what else does one need rather than a slice of cake and coffee, right?
The service was polite and fast, nothing special. To the British, it would appear a bit inattentive and not to the best standard but if you switch your cultural expectations, you will leave satisfied.
In any afternoon, Buch&Bohne is a good to spot to relax, meet a friend or simply watch life go by from the window.
All pictures by Allane Milliane