Some nights I have dreams about this cafe. I step off Shuri monorail station, I take the Shuri Castle exit, and walk on the left side of the road.
There it is. It has a shipping container outside labelled ‘second coffee stand’, but you go to the shop at the back. It has no espresso machine; just rows of pour-over stands and two local men chatting in an open gallery.
I hesitantly order a coffee on the menu in Tokyo dialect, and watch the deft hands of the barista make the finest pourover I’ve ever seen.
I drink the coffee. It’s perfect. Not bitter, not sweet, just a warm cup of energy and inspiration. Precisely what coffee should be. I suddenly wish I could be at a computer, typing at this cafe while I consume this single perfect cup.
But the dream has to end. I walk away, up the path to Shurijo, It was my original purpose for visiting, after all, and I vow that someday I will return – I just hope that the coffee shop will still be there.