ceļojumi · Stambulas epizodes

Starptautiskā kafijas diena


Ir pirmais oktobris. Man ir jauns bloga izskats un 101.sekotājs. Laikam maz interesentu savākts 4 ar pus gadu ilga bloga rakstīšanas laikā, bet visiem paldies par laikiem, laipnajiem komentāriem un jūsu blogiem. 🙂

Latvijas interneta ārēs joprojām trako par Agneses Krivades dzejoli, bet Stambulā ir iesācies rudens. Jā, rudens! Vēlpirms trim dienām es ar vasaras iešļūcenēm šļūkāju pa peļķēm, un centos neievērot pārējos, kuri jau automātiski bija uzģērbuši zābakus, mēteļus un cepures. Jo 24 grādi man likās diezgan laba Latvijas vasara.

Rudens nenāk viens, bet ar vēlmi lasīt, lasīt, lasīt.

1.oktobris ir tieši viens mēnesis kopš 1.septembra, kad slavenajā Bookdepository pasūtīju četras grāmatas: Brave New World by A.Huxley, Life after Life by K.Atkinson, The extraordinary life of fakir who got trapped in an Ikea wardrobe, un Dear Life by A.Munro. Viens mēnesis ir par daudz, lai gaidītu un nesagaidītu. Vismaz man.

Tā nu es uzrakstīju BD vēstuli, un atbildēja man Džeroms, kurš man izteica savu pārsteigumu, ka grāmatas nav saņemtas, vai tiešām pasūtījumā norādītā adrese ir pareizā, un lai es eju uz kaut kurieni to see if this is being held at your local sorting office? Es Džeromam atbildēju, ka Stambulā ir 17 miljoni iedzīvotāji, un man nav ne mazākās vēlmes vai uzņēmības meklēt šeit četras grāmatas.

Turpinu gaidīšanu, bet pirmā pieredze ar BD man neliekas izdevusies.  Nolēmu uzvārīt turku kafiju un palasīt, ko Guardian saka par kafijas pieminēšanu grāmatās:

I’d rather take coffee than compliments just now. ― from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Coffee is a way of stealing time that should by rights belong to your older self. ―Thud! by Terry Pratchett. Recommended by DMU Bookshop.

I went out the kitchen to make coffee – yards of coffee. Rich, strong, bitter, boiling hot, ruthless, depraved. The life blood of tired men. ― from The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons. ― from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by TS Eliot. Recommended by Bharathy Singaravel

She poured the coffee, which was so strong it practically snarled as it came out of the pot, and then sat down herself, taking the small cat on to her knee. ― from The L-Shaped Room by Lynne Reid Banks. Recommended by MrsC

Good. Coffee is good for you. It’s the caffeine in it. Caffeine, we are here. Caffeine puts a man on her horse and a woman in his grave. ― from The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

The fresh smell of coffee soon wafted through the apartment, the smell that separates night from day.― from Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami

‘Well, one can die after all: it is but dying; and in the next world, thank God! there is no drinking of coffee, and consequently no – waiting for it.’ Sometimes he would rise from his chair, open the door, and cry out with a feeble querulousness – ‘Coffee! coffee!’ ― from Narrative and Miscellaneous Papers by Thomas De Quincey [about Immanuel Kant]

That’s something that annoys the hell out of me – I mean if somebody says the coffee’s all ready and it isn’t. – from The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger.

DECEMBER 16. I’m sick for real. Rosario is making me stay in bed. Before she left for work she went out to borrow a thermos from a neighbour and she left me half a litre of coffee. Also four aspirin. I have a fever. I’ve started and finished two poems.” The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño

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