, Japan

The streets of Jimbocho

Used bookstores, spring rain and black coffee

By Kenny Mah

The storm arrives out of the blue. We haven’t been paying attention because we have been stuck to our screens, our eyes mesmerised by the barely-there flicker. It rains for hours.

This, we tell ourselves, would be a good time for a nap, maybe a deeper sleep, a sort of hibernation from hard thinking or hard work.

But the rain is a beautiful thing, can be, yes. Why waste the opportunity to observe it in all its terrible splendour? There will be plenty of time for endless hibernation eventually (hopefully much, much later).

So we drag ourselves out of our hotel room in search of some coffee. Not the stuff that comes from pushing a button at a konbini. We want real coffee, the kind a barista takes the time to brew. Slow drip. Slow coffee.

We stroll along the shower-slicked streets of Jimbocho. Past the dusty bookstores, crammed floor to ceiling with old and used books. Past the aging noodle shops. Cross the road. Duck into a café where the baristas all have hats or slick handlebar moustaches. But also friendly smiles. We beam in return.

As they make our coffee, I read a little William Blake.

If only we could as he did, he who glimpsed a world, a universe, in a grain of sand, in a wild flower, and he who held infinity in the palm of his hand. Or perhaps only sought to. I certainly have endured “eternity in an hour” while waiting in line at the post office. Conversely, an eternity in every sip, when the coffee is sublime, that’s no chore at all.

To see everything in an instance, and hold it only for as long as that.

Poetry should always be this romantic, this foolish, I think.

Later, we are back at the hotel, curled up in bed watching a really cheesy romantic comedy. In Japanese; the subtitles are probably the best bits. I can’t help but think that life doesn’t get any better than this: cuddling with the one you love most in the world and laughing into each other’s neck.

We should always be this romantic, this foolish.

Glitch Coffee & Roasters: Jimbocho
3-16 Nishikicho, Kanda, Chiyoda, Tokyo, Japan
glitchcoffee.com
Saying yes to mistakes
Opened by 2014 Japan AeroPress Champion Kiyokazu Suzuki, Glitch Coffee epitomises a casual approach to life, albeit with serious attention to coffee. Expect single origin beans rather than blends.

Roasting on a 5kg Probat Roaster, Suzuki welcomes the small errors, the happy mistakes, the blessed glitches – hence the name “Glitch” – that is part and parcel of the process. Observing the baristas at the pour-over station, we take part in another process, one of meditation and gratitude.

Read more here.