My West African Quest for Coffee

A few years ago, I absolutely hated coffee. All hot drinks for that matter, I was even slightly freaked out by the concept of mugs. (they were heavy and you couldn’t always see whats inside them!) But since then something has changed in a big way (I think university deadlines) and now I love coffee. I think its in my blood, my dad loves it, so maybe it was inevitable. It lifts my mood, wakes me up AND I love hanging and working in coffee shops!

So as much as I tried to persuade myself otherwise,  finding coffee that I like here in Dakar was relatively important. In my defence teaching is very tiring and my days are long!

Senegalese coffee is normally drunk in a shot glass size orange plastic cup, is relatively strong but has so much sugar in it . It can be bought from most road corners. It’s drinkable, but I must admit I prefer a mug without half a packet of sugar 🙂 Plus I need to be able to face my dentist when I return to England!

The first coffee I bought in a nearby supermarket was a bit of a disaster. I didn’t read the packaging properly and turned out it was half coffee, half chicory. I have no idea what chicrorary is, but it tasted disgusting. Naturally this was rather distresting. Then I settled for Nescafe, a cheap instant coffee, about 30/40p a packet. I figured that would do the job. No problem.

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But then, Frankie being the best ex housemate anyone could wish for posted me TWO large tins of my favourite coffee! (Ironically its also made by Nescafe, they are doing very well out of me). It was so worth the scary taxi ride, the waiting and confusion at the post office. This should last me at least until after Christmas 🙂

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Also, I am so blessed to live right round the corner from Presse cafe, a very popular coffee shop mainly frequented by expats. I believe it is a Canadian or French chain, and it has air con, free wifi and all the coffee a girl could ever need. They even have bagels and cakes! If I ever go missing, I’ll probably be found there. Or N’ice cream.

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Now I have all the coffee I could ever need. Panic over.

 

Maybe I should cut down in January. Maybe.

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