I just came back from a whirlwind trip through Ireland and the UK. With fewer sleep hours than I'd like but a looot of love and joy in my heart, I'm still reeling and somewhat refusing to leave the journey behind. So I thought I'd share with you one of the many fantastic stops of this past week.
By happenstance (that is my brain, which is, by now, part Skyscanner), we started our adventure in rainy Birmingham, which we'd never seen before and which seemed fitting all in all, considering it's the birthplace of the one and only Ozzy Osbourne. I've got to say, the city didn't make the most fantastic impression on me, but it's not entirely the Brummies' fault. Weather was shit, we were dead tired, and in a constant to-and-fro, having chosen a hotel near the airport to suit the next day's morning flight. So Birmingham only had a short, few hours to make an impression on us.
Naturally, I'd done my homework ahead of time, and the first stop in the city for exhausted travelers was caffeinated. A tiny little place called Faculty Coffee, in fact, which was nestled perfectly right across the street from Birmingham New Street.
(yes, of course I arrange train rides depending on good coffee... you don't?)
Faculty Coffee is hidden inside a gorgeous little passage (which I simply loved, and not just because of the sudden attack of rain). It felt like entering a secret. Which I suppose, in ways, was to set the tone for the entire journey ahead.
From without, the place itself didn't amount to all that much. It certainly greeted you as unassuming - the sort of place you can easily wander past, unbothered. Still. I'd written it inside my palm, which meant we simply had to stop.
I scanned the board, the way one does, but wasn't feeling too adventurous with the exhaustion and all (did I mention I hardly even glimpsed at the sweets? I was definitely off!).
A simple filter (black only, apparently!) would do me just fine, and luckily for us, there was one last free table by the window into the passage, which beat hanging around inside the passage, waiting on the rain to quit.
It also gave me a perfect vantage point for observing the crowds. And I do mean crowds (well, for this kind of small place, anyway). I love, whenever I go to this kind of coffee spot, to note the regulars, drifting in and out, the business of strangers' lives, the stopping for a takeaway cup that'll inevitably end up discarded on a beach somewhere, in the hope that it'll dissolve somehow faster than us.
Weird, how humans be. But we're not on the Irish coast yet. But here, in this tiny little caffeinated nook of Birmingham.
It grew on me, the way all these places inevitably will. With every hurried office-y person coming in. Every perfectly hipstery young family that refuses to quit specialty coffee outtings now they're three, which I must say I kinda like. You start looking at places in a different light, start seeing that they, also, are somebody's. That they're beloved by somebody, well-treaded, trusted.
A place to return to again and again for someone.
How amazing it is, to look at places (and people) in this light.
Despite the modest decor, Faculty Coffee grew on me fast, and not just because of the refuge it provided. It became a place. A real, proper place, not just a stop in the rain. And I'm all for finding flickers of reality in this fleeting world we inhabit.
On the plus side, the coffee itself was quite alright. My filter was exactly what I expect when I order a V60, which I guess isn't something to write home about, but very welcome (like all familiar things), nevertheless. It had a nutty, citrusy vibe to it, and I can definitely say I tasted blueberries somewhere in the mix (to be fair, I can say almost anything, can't I?). It was also well-roasted, but without leaving too strong an aftertaste, which I wasn't really in the mood for.
It was, in simple words, the perfect coffee to propel us onward in our journey. I also tried the flat white that my mum ordered, but it only made me stick to the idea that these are usually best ordered in mediocre coffee places, where the coffee wouldn't be amazing, anyhow.
It has this tendency of drowning out the aroma too much. I think life's for tasting the full, bitter thing, you know?
And it lasted just enough for the rain to get a chance to stop, and allow us to sneak through droplets and encounter these beautiful places~
Having seen all my heroes take photos on the Black Sabbath bench around the time of Back to the Beginning, a stop at this hallowed spot was simply a must. And I gotta say, the day brightened (at least in spirit), seeing how proud of Ozzy and Sabbath that entire city seems to be.
A hidden place, a spot out of the rain, a whole lotta soul. Birmingham, you did alright.
