Drag me to a café

After my second (third?) visit here I still feel like I cannot fully grasp the essence of this place. If this is an example of the third wave, why there’s no feeling of coziness? If the first expression is simple and neat, why is the menu so long and complicated? See, I feel like I’m in two cafes in the same place and they run in parallel and I’m reaching through dimensions having one coffee in both of them for the price of two. Uf, somehow I’ve put it in words. 

Hiring an interior designer might put those two realms together but for now, you enter a simple looking place, almost undecorated, white, plain. The pictures on the walls are tasteless, without any style, without aesthetic we all so crave for. Coming to the counter you are welcomed with homemade pastries but you go sit at the table to browse through cappuccinos and flavored chocolates, a little bit excessive menu for a simple cafe. Believe me, I see nothing bad in it! I’m only conflicted. Is this a place of simplicity and same looking cups or an elegant coffee shop with its oh-so-basic offer. Even after studying the people here, I cannot tell if I see hipsters or the general public and why am I suddenly trying to make this place hipster? Is it the fair trade? Is it the setting? The name starts with a lowercase letter? 

Come and try for yourself; if you bring some expectations with you, be ready to see them weaken, be ready to feel unfulfillment in the interior and unsettling atmosphere. 

 Every aspect of La Boheme Cafe tells you about just how thoroughly was their designer scrolling through Pinterest ideas for a hipster coffee shop. But since the size of this place is much bigger than a small cozy coffee shop you were ready to imagine, the visionaries could easily afford to put every aspect of a hipster cliche inside these three big rooms. 

Let’s start with a list: unmatched chairs, puffs, some books, od photos of dead people, some random pretty stuff and some old stuff on the shelves inside an oasis of indoor plants. Is that a violin hanging from the ceiling? 

My big appreciation goes to the coffee itself, it’s delicious. And expensive. 

In a contrast to appear simple and natural, this cafe is actually overcrowded with random stuff. Everything hipsterish can be found here, even the hipsters - one is behind the counter and another one just in front of me, reading a book no one else has read, not even the author. 

I ask myself how many other people also find that fake books wallpaper ugly.

I¨m going to skip describing the big pink couch in the other room, you have to see it for yourself, sorry for ruining this shock for you.

Maybe it’s the od furniture, maybe it’s the vintage interior, maybe it’s Maybelline. This music is annoying me too, some cranky old chanson, not loud enough, not silent, simply annoying. Why did I even went here? 

Everything about Dobrá trafika cafe is as if it’s screaming: “We stopped in the 40s, come inside before heading to the front.” I even feel stupid writing in my journal here out of fear of fitting in a tiny bit too much. 

You know, I don’t like it here but as it always is with places like these - the coffee is okay. 

Leave your credit cards at home, here they only take cash. From the last century. That’s how you will feel, truly a time-traveling experience. But do not bring your date here, this place is too small for some private conversation. 

Although I can imagine people enjoying this style, it’s also great for an old-fashioned photo shoot. I almost expect some guy coming in here saying something like “Hi doll, fancy a ride, sugar?” and we both disappear into the sunset in our cabriolet. Fin.

Captain America would have a series of flashbacks here.

It’s the fulfilled expectations and it still amazes me! Coming here for the first time I was ready to see plants, unmatched furniture and I wasn’t disappointed. Even the full-bearded barista is wearing a plaid shirt. And the people, the variety of them! Hipster coffee shops are usually young people’s Mekka. But not here in bistro8.

A very confused older man in a queue in front of me asked for a coffee without all that bullshit he can see on a big board behind the bar. At least five moms are sitting in the far corner, all of them with prunes. Two old ladies are enjoying their night out over their third glasses of wine.

And the hipsters. They are here too of course. Right next to my table, a guy and a girl discuss in a foreign for them language (English) some animation they are working on, going through their scatches made with Mikrofix Centorpen Document 2631 0,3mm.

A skinny guy in his 30s wouldn’t také his long retro coat off instead, he opens his portfolio filled with black and white pictures and marvels at them sipping his flat white. I’m not making this up!

After about a year and a half of watching the windows of Double B Coffee and Tea, it was finally the time to come and visit the soft appearing café with already few reviews on a hipster side of Prague. The terrace is cute, the inside of a big café…not so much, forget the coziness, here we are welcoming minimalism. And not an aesthetic one, trust me. 

Spotify ads replace Kendrick Lamar songs, no gramophones here I guess, what you listen to in this café is music people know. I wonder how many people this made to turn around and leave. Then I see it. The menu.

What is….75% of those words? A smiling lady at the counter snorted at me not knowing what aeropresso is. I’m sorry you didn’t know? Asking questions is a weird experience, you feel bad for not knowing, how dare I come here and not know. Suddenly I’m glad to blend in at least judging by my clothes.

The 1st beverage on the list is a serial number of some airplane and no one convince me otherwise. I’m afraid to ask so turning around and leaving doesn’t seem like an option at this point. “Which one is the strongest?” She smiles again. No seriously, I don’t know where exactly under those words is disguised my rich espresso. She said some word. I don’t know what that means. The shame is rising faster than the boiling water for my withhold coffee. I need to choose.

Remember when Hermione had to detect that only drinkable poison? That’s how I feel. I know exactly which one I DON’T want – no filters, no aeropress, no planes in my cup. I point the big coffee machine. “I want something from this.” Cringe. Why go into a long debate about press and 15 bars this barista might not know. She’s waiting. I’m sweating.

Ah fuck it, lungo it is! At least I know this one. The coffee is good, no doubts. Maybe I won’t be able to tell you how to find your simple rich espresso but hey, no aerodynamics in my cup.

The chairs are comfortable, the only chairs in here and free, it is indeed Monday. I pour myself a glass of water from a milk bottle. How rustical. There’s a copy of 1984. Edgy. And a copy of a Czech book in Russian, Edgy. Bulgakov. A single little plant.

To go there is a matter of style and reputation and the lower your self-esteem is the more you want to go to this intelligence-only-cafe.

Welcome to a place like this in Prague - CAFÉ NEUSTADT - the place you hear everyone talking about, the place of legends from those most popular people in your clique group you never got in, this place has a bigger aura (and ego) than the court of The New Town Hall it is placed in.

What you see is a modern decor sliced with communist nostalgia if anyone can have that. Sophisticated. And it works, you do not feel welcome nor cozy there but if you came to open a big political debate or you and your friends call yourself philosophers, you have just found the perfect place for you.

My order which was a mint lemonade came surprisingly as a berry juice with oranges in it. I am allergic to oranges. Logically, the waitress asked me if I want to take them out for me. Sure...that will definitely not kill me, thank you.

And the coffee, you may ask? Oh, did I forget to mention there is none? It is a cafe after all...