Sometimes it seems to me that my whole life rests on my morning cup of coffee. Not because I can’t wake up — but because I love this ritual, this minute before the start of the day, when everything freezes. And then one day I decided to explore: how do they drink coffee in other countries? What is coffee for them? Just a drink? Or is it also a moment in which feelings are invested?

Italy.
In Rome, I lived on the third floor of an old house with flowers on the windowsills. Italians are true masters of brief pleasure. Espresso. Quickly, standing at the counter. A minimum of words, a maximum of taste. The taste is scorching, rich, self-confident. You don’t drink it — you absorb the rhythm of the city. Could you live in a city where the morning starts with an explosive taste and the honking of mopeds?

Turkey.
Istanbul is a completely different place. Here, coffee is not a drink, but almost a mystery. Thick, dense, in a small cup with a copper rim. Turkish coffee is not in a hurry. It makes you slow down, inhale the spices, feel like part of an ancient pattern on a pillow. Can you wait for the grounds to settle? Or do you want everything at once?

Bali.
Here, it seemed to me that coffee smelled like the ocean. Even if it is brewed deep in the jungle. In Bali, everything is simpler, warmer, softer. A cup of cappuccino in a hammock, with a flower on the table next to it. Coffee with coconut milk and ice. There is no need to rush here - all movements are like slow waves. Do you have moments when you can do nothing and just be?

Every morning is like a little trip. And now I choose coffee according to my mood. If I feel fire in me - Italian. If I want to immerse myself in thoughts - Turkish. And if I just want to live and breathe - Balinese.