The Caffeine Club - 7/10 Cups

The Caffeine Club - 7/10 Cups

                Two things may come to mind when I say Caffeine club. The first being a techno club, where every drink is laced with caffeine and red bull and you are more likely to dance yourself into a heart attack than survive the night. The other is a prestigious member's only VIP club where only the most exclusive individuals of society may enter and enjoy the richest forms of extract from the bean of a coffee plant. Neither are farther from the truth.

Kardamon Café- Take 2 - 8/10 Cups

Kardamon Café- Take 2 - 8/10 Cups

The funky Kardamon café was as empty as when I first entered it a little less than a week ago. Just the way I had hoped to find it. I return for the ambiance and the coffee. The ambiance being small, hidden and quiet… quiet apart from the music in the background, varying from the funk that almost boogied me out of my seat, to pop that almost forced me to substitute it with earphone and my own music but the music is inconsequential to my enjoyment in this concealed café. The only other patron here at the moment, apart from that handsome devil I saw in the mirror, was an older gentleman. He sported the relic Polish mustache that is slowly fading out of style with today's whippersnapper youth. 

He sat and enjoyed his fresh mug of Polish beer, reading the newspaper, quiet as a mouse. That is until another older man enters. To my knowledge, neither man has met each other people, my knowledge being somewhat limited obviously to the potential history that could be behind these two men. Yet, not sitting next to each other, lead me to this assumption. Yet they shook hands and carried a short conversation about what time there was a match-Football presumably (soccer for you North Americans). The second man was clean shaven by the way…. Traitor to the Polish mustache traditions that I've come to love but been unable to take up myself unfortunately.

The coffee

Continuing onto the coffee. Cappuccino to be more precise. I know I stated in my last post, that this was to be the search for the Holy Espresso (I guess I will keep that quest title), but during my pursuit, I shall taste the various other delicacies that are common in cafes, assuming I decide to return to them more than once. Back to this cappuccino, it was topped with a foamy heart, which was just adorable. It may be a common practice for some people and places, but this was honestly my first cappuccino heart. This was one of the better cappuccinos that I have had. It carried the bitter coffee taste well, and was not watered down by excessive milk but I have to admit that the foam heart did raise my spirits after a rather melancholy day. If you don’t know what melancholy means, a picture will be posted near the bottom to show the true meaning.

I must mention that I am visiting at a later time than I have before, the sun has already set and it is a weekend, that being said. People are slowly trickling into the café. (I am writing this in real time, not that that makes a difference to you). These people coming in however seem to all have some previous meeting with each other. Each greeting each other with a handshake and a hearty hello to the barista, most on first name basis, of course I am left out of this little group, but I do believe I have stumbled upon a café used more by locals that tourists, which I believe merits my enjoyment of it. Build it and they will come, some say (The Romans supposedly), but I say, if they keep on coming, something has got to be decent in there. Now with a population of four, the diplomatic consensus is to change the channel from the bass and pumping music, to the sport channel. I am curious to see how that plays out. Punny, I know…

The Match

                AAAANNNNDDDDD the game begins. Argentina versus Russia. More interesting, is my false assumption in thinking it was football. The exact opposite actually. Handball. One of Poland's three favorite sports, Football, Volleyball and Handball. Presumably in that order of favoritism as well. The game begins, how most begin, with the national anthems. Russia's strong bassy anthem almost moves me to join the red army, whilst Argentina prefers a more leisurely melody that could have been composed by any classical artist of old, finally coming to a crescendo that sends the crowds cheering. As the players set themselves up, the watchers in this café, grab new drinks, beer, coffee and tea and I can only help but wonder, who they are rooting for. Do these men feel strongly towards Mother Russia, do they carry positive sentiments to the nation that ruled over them for almost half a century. Or do they despise it like much of Europe these days. I am probably reading too much into just three men watching a handball match. Why not just enjoy any excuse to watch your favorite sport being played out between two random nations. But perhaps my hypothesizes will be validated in the course of the game.

The verdict is Argentina, as the men curse why they have yet to score against Russia early on. And like in every stereotypical story, the two men drinking beer and watching sports, have to turn their conversation to world politics. One argues why there is a town in South Africa called Cape City, whilst the other tries to correct him with Cape Town. To my surprise though, the conversation turns not to Russia, but instead to Arabia, as this handball competition is being hosted in one of the Arabian countries. The men bicker about civilization, religion and why money is not being shared from Arabia with the rest of the world. That is about as much as I am willing to listen in on that conversation though.

Jackie Saxon, behind the pages.

                I came here to try and write more chapters for my second novel, -title still being decided- but instead I find I am writing more to you, you being the internet and those who surf its waves. I suppose I can do some self-promoting now though. My second novel will follow Jackie Saxon, a woman who woke up screaming from a five year coma. Nobody is there for her and she remembers nothing (yes, I am going with the amnesia story). The novel will thus follow her as she escapes a past that is trying to kill her, only to run headlong into it. I first started writing this when I was in the city of Bansko, in Bulgaria. I had yet to complete Leaders of Hope, but I had the idea that would start and flourish into Jackie Saxon and her adventure. I got the idea from my experience similar to what the woman in the introduction of the story felt, before the accident of course. You can check out the introduction to the novel here - http://www.oscarkrol.com/p/a-discontinuous-world-teaser.html

                I will admit though, that I find the idea of amnesia fun to play with. That sounds a tad bit sadistic, but it's true. Imagine being born into the world, middle aged, and being almost as dumb and lost as the day you were born. You need to learn how to survive in a world where people have already had decades of practice and guidance. It's like walking into a million dollar business meeting totally drunk only to remember you are a plumber, not an insurance salesman. That or starting World of Warcraft for the first time and roaming blindly into a level 80 area - as a priest no less. (Only some of you will get that reference, and I accept that). 

I don't find the fun in writing about a baby and his experiences in a new world, and some could say that writing with a character suffering from amnesia is cheating and lacks a enough backstory and allows you to create the character as you like without care or cause for their reactions and thoughts. That may be true, but that is also what is fun. You get to practice, laugh and cry with certain experiences that would seem so simple and mundane to somebody who has lived a full life. But to then approach life, with a childlike ignorance and have to deal with the repercussions of that ignorance. All that and the mystery. Few things are as mysterious as not knowing or understanding the full backstory to a person and event. I like that mystery, and whilst amnesia is convenient compared to a complex plot of a villain, it also lends itself another aspect that I want to experiment with in this book.

                That being the torment and psychological despair that goes with amnesia. Action and adventure is one thing. It is one thing to overcome a physical barrier, train hard enough and you can punch down trees (metaphorically) but mental blockades present different challenges that are sometimes not as easy as just training one's body (easy in the sense that it is a repetitive action, not that it is easy to bench-press 200 pounds.) In addition to that, the idea of discovery has always fascinated me, which is why I am also working on and planning on a fantasy based series based around the feelings of discovery and exploration. But self-discovery and exploration is an interesting area to write about. I don't mean like those religious/motivation/self-help books but to truly understand and discover yourself as a person when you have no notion of who you are beforehand. It is all these feelings that I hope to fully explore and share that exploration with readers in my second novel.

…. and Argentina won by the way

.

The Dark underbelly of Kardamon

Curious wandering lead me to the stairs in the back, slowly stepping down into the depths of earth, I find a secluded little alcove, fitted with leather couches and a quieter atmosphere than the upper floor that accommodated bolstering sports fans and I immediately retreated down to the comfy sofa's when the Poland vs Denmark handball game was turned on, it instantly attracted a larger crowd of men and women or various ages. Down here there are also a few slot machines for the common gambler. This place would be a great little hide away for any couple who just want some quiet time or even a place to cuddle away from the eyes of public, especially after a romantic walk through the nearby Oliwa park, which I covered in the previous post.

That brings an end to this review. Kardamon remains a café I will return to for a nice quiet hide away, just not during Polish sporting seasons.

PS: Feeling melancholy? "A gloomy state of mind, especially with habitual or prolonged; depression."

Not anymore

It gets me every time.

A Brisk Walk in the Frosted park. The First Reviews

(Note to self, don't trust smart phones to be smart enough to auto-save posts as you write them... had to learn the hard way... let's try this again shall we)

It was negative 2 degrees Celsius today, a perfect crisp day for a brisk walk through the park, as the metaphor states. The sun had finally decided to show itself after hiding away for over a week. It has only been a week since I returned from a wonderful trip to England to spend Christmas and New Years with my Girlfriend. The sun however, was as shy in England as it was in Poland. All the more reason to soak in the sunshine. I currently "live" in the Oliwa part of Gdansk, Poland. A part of the city several train stops from downtown, but a quiet little semi-suburban area nonetheless. I say "live" as i have pretty much been couch-surfing for the past few months, on this semi-gap year of university. A hop, skip and a walk under a railway away, lies the Oliwa park. A quaint little place. Perhaps not so little in the literal sense, but it's distance from the hubbub of downtown Gdansk, makes it feel a world apart.

Oliwa Park

The park itself is a sweet place, complete with duck infested ponds. The green headed mallards bobbing in and out of the water. The flock is joined by the high and mighty swans, who prefer instead of bask in their glory as families with children "ooed and awwed" - the white knights of the bird world. Adjacent to the feeding frenzy are signs prohibiting the feeding of the local birds. The sign was promptly pooed on by seagulls, pigeons and ducks, the swans at least kept their etiquette. The park maintained rows of towering trees, that were cut to look like a vertical wall of hedges that continued along one length of the park. A literal wall of green. To the side of it, were smaller, albeit older trees that were cultivated to create a canopy over park goers. The canopy of course, passed every year with autumn. leaving gaps and holes in the would be branchy blanket over you, creating a pattern of sunlight that tattooed the pavement, such an artsy display that I almost felt bad for walking over it... Almost.

Next to these corridors of trees stood an elder house of Poland, more a small mansion than a large house. Named Abbot's Palace (although i consider it too small to be a palace). The building itself, looked more Victorian than Polish. My knowledge of architecture being as wide as my knowledge for modern fashion, that being said, very limited. Adding to this Victorian-esque feeling, is the English style garden that was kept neatly trimmed in front of the would be Victorian/Polish mansion. The trimmed hedges perforated by twisting and turning pavements that were incorporated around flower beds that would bloom in the spring. For Spring always comes.... that doesn't sound as ominous as i had hoped. ---- A little research, on my part, shows that the Palace was built in the 15th Century, and later expanded upon. The style is specifically "Rococo or Late Baroque." That however, is as far as my curiosity for architecture goes. Any readers, feel free to correct me or expand on that in the Comments. 

A stone's throw away and you can visit the Oliwa church, famous for its monumental organs. The musical kind, not mammalian. When the organs play, you feel them in your soul, mostly because the bass would vibrate your body if you stood too close. The church is adorn with all the golden and wooden beauty that comes with most older churches in Poland. Depictions of Jesus, various saints and angels. All of which are brilliantly hand crafted/painted/sculpted. Adding to the authentic/fatalistic value of the church are the names in various plots in the floor, highlighting the last resting place of more recognized citizen's of Poland past. Recognized by others, not myself. It is always sad when history passes and few are there to remember it. Fewer still who might be willing to teach it. To swing back onto the positive note however, the organs are a must see, if you ever find yourself in the area of Gdansk and more specifically, Oliwa.

The latest attachment to the park however, (since i last visited months before) is the Japanese style garden. How Japanese you might ask? If you didn't, i am telling you anyways. Japanese in the manor of placing spacious back-less wooden benches and a standing, i assume to be a birdhouse, with a flared roofing to it, symbolic of feudal Japan's architecture. Regardless of the name, this section, although new, was off the beaten path and was perhaps the quietest section of the park. On aforementioned benches, was still a layer of frost that was refusing to melt, despite the onslaught of sunny rays that assaulted the ice crystals. 

Beyond this, there lies an indoor botanical greenhouse, open all year round and temperature controlled. Inside lives infamous tropical plants, including the banana plant, complete with purple bud. Cactus of various kinds, bromeliads, ficuses and other species of plant life that I have forgotten to name. It is a cute sight to see, having grown up around most of these plants, living my life in the United Arab Emirates, but variety is always lovely to see. Next to that are streams of running water, the sounds of which drown out the chatter of walking couples and families. Few things calm the mind as much as running water. All that is a quick synopsis of the park, a park worth seeing, a park I will visit again, before i depart from Poland.

Reviews 

Moving on. After the park, I scouted the area for a cafe. The result of which showed 3 cafes right across the road from the park. The first being Flemming cafe (http://www.flemming-cafe.pl/) Hopefully named after Ian Fleming, but I doubt that. Of course, this cafe was closed on this Sunday. So there goes that review for now.

Kardamon Cafe

Further down the road, is a small little place "Kardamon" (http://cafekardamon.pl/). The sweet name alone brought me inside, it brought nostalgic memories of living in the Middle East, and my feet carried me inside. It is a small little place, sweet because of it. The purple theme made it warm but authentic, unique in my opinion. The seating and tables were comfortable and strong. Meaning that anybody could sit down without worry of breaking the chairs. The bar is also nicely presented and one could sit there comfortably, if you want to make chit chat with the barista of course, or if you are like me, you choose to find your own little corner to hide away from everything. The atmosphere was almost quiet, if not for the television playing Taylor Swift and other pop stars i couldn't care to name. The music took away from the feel, but i believe that is more because the barista, no older than I, was left pretty much alone and bored in an empty cafe. Not a diamond in the rough but a hidden gem, this cafe was a lovely place to have a really good espresso.

I don't consider myself an expert on coffee or espressos, but having spent time in Italy, working in an Italian restaurant, Vecchio Mulino (http://www.vecchiomulino.eu/), I know a good coffee from a crap one. Kardamon cafe near Oliwa park, has some really good stuff. Highly recommended.

Kafe Delfin

Since however, I was in an experimental mood, for coffee... nothing else you dirty minded fool, I decided to head into the last cafe on the street. Kafe Delfin (http://www.kafedelfin.pl/) Or the Dolphin Cafe in English... (I wasn't aware of this translation until I looked up the website for the cafe, I, at first attributed the name to Delphine from Greek mythology) Is it a cafe about the sea, full of pictures about dolphins and other sea life? Nope. The cafe instead takes to heart, the subject matter of old-school films. Ancient theater projectors and film reels are scattered through the premises, and the walls are dotted with black and white pictures of actors, remembered, dead, alive and forgotten. A unique idea, but the red walls felt a bit hostile to me and made me feel more like I had to take the coffee and leave, rather than sit and spend the day talking. Regardless, I had two espressos here. Both very decent as well. Whilst having my first however, I came to the conclusion, at the same time as my girlfriend (as we texted), that I should take upon myself, to be a bit more out going, and enjoy more coffees in various cafes, as I travel Gdansk, Poland and the world. Whilst sharing my experience with all of you, out there, who apparently read blogs.

That is what this shall be. The first installment of a semi-autobiographical, semi-review and semi-self promoting blog. As i travel the world, I will share my experiences, worthy of note, as I quest for the best "HOLY ESPRESSO"..... The term was coined by my girlfriend, who politely asked me not to use it. So use that as a loose title until I come up with a better on in due time. Updates will be randomly frequent with periods of nothingness. In between which, I will post updates about my novels... whenever I get to writing them. Find them at http://holyespresso.blogspot.com/

That's all for now.

See ya.