An older man has helped us move a small table away from the wall, my hands are full of bags from the market. Aubergines in all their polished purple, a veritable fruit basket and the most concentrated flavoured cauliflower you'll ever eat. The bags go under the table and I order two cappuccino.
It comes in a cup little larger than what you'd receive for an espresso in a chain coffee house. Tiny bubbles in the foamed milk with a dash of cocoa on the top. It's a very different beast to the brown liquid- white scum combination served in a soup tureen we've got used to seeing around the world. If you want cappuccino then you really need to be getting it before lunch. If you are after a similar drink later in the day you'll have to order an espressino. It's the cappuccino's baby brother and is in all respects bar size pretty much the same. I've not found out why one is acceptable all day and the other only in the morning.
It's a café we've not been in before, a little on the modern side perhaps. Stainless steel and glass with some religious statues from the garden centre school of sculpture. A few newspapers about, the pink sports paper always eye catching. There's also the gum and chocolate rack just by the till and some of the extravagantly wrapped Easter eggs. It's not a bad place to be and it's not bad to have the shopping done by ten.
An African man comes in. One of the pavement hustlers. He carries a tray of sunglasses.
He offers them to the couple serving behind the bar. She takes some pairs and tries them in the bar back mirror.
"Yellow or blue?" The blue are better the clientèle tell her. Then the haggling starts. 10 euro for sunglasses might be OK, but 5's what they're willing to pay. The conversation swings back and forward with lots of mention of crisis. Eventually the see-saw sits level at 5 euro.
As we pay I ask to see a black and white rimmed pair. They suit my wife. Her classic look. We take them for 5.
They're a souvenir.
They're 5 euros well spent.