You know how you build something up in your head, look forward to it fervently and then when it arrives it's truly disappointing?
(You might expect something epic from that spiel; rest assured, it's rather more mundane. I tend towards the drama queen on occasion.)
My favourite coffee bar closed for 18 months while the Tyneside Cinema was refurbished. It's now open to punters, in all its red leather glory. So on Friday night I trundled out for dinner, ate far too much bread and mezze, and thought I'd call in for an espresso, savour the atmosphere, and reminisce about old times.
Sadly, not. I wandered in 20 minutes before closing time only to be told they were shut. Not "the coffee machine's been switched off", but "we're closed".
Gah. Extremely annoyed (I'd quite like to finish working early too, but I don't tend to get paid if I follow Intermezzo's example), I wandered the streets...but it seems impossible to get a decent cup of coffee in Newcastle at 11pm. Everywhere (even the places with a late licence) had switched everything off. Beer, spirits, more wine, yes. Coffee, no.
I caught the bus home, made some coffee, and thought about moving to France. Philippe makes a mean espresso at his bar at the Lac de Gurson...