This weekend I'm on a mission for the perfect coffee. I want to check out the nearest Starbucks and Costa Coffee spots. The Starbucks is on one of the main streets of Greenwich, but the Costa Coffee hides snugly away above a bookshop. Am going to take the laptop, the smart phone or a book and curl up, chill out and really kick back and savour some good coffee. I'm not the sort of person who is addicted to it, unlike so many I see queuing up impatiently mid-commute each morning to get their hit before opening up their first email of the day. I don't carry one on the tube, or ask for something complex and foreign sounding, but this weekend, I know its top of the list. In a few more months we'll optimistically seek out the pubs with crackling log fires, and hope for snow. Having said that, everyone knows it rarely snows in England, and when it does its really a sleety slushy muddy mess, but we've only clocked up about a weeks worth of snow in our lives, so we'll hope that the current forecast of a mild winter is about as accurate as a normal whether report and be convincingly wrong.
