How not to get a coffee in London

As the old saying goes, hosting a gaggle of French people for the weekend always has the potential to make you see familiar things with a new perspective. Their shock at how early everything closes, their horror at the price of a simple pint of “English beer”, their amazement at the length of our…escalators; all things that materialised this weekend. The biggest eye opener for me, however, was something that is right in front of our eyes every single day: the fruity state of London’s cafés.

Strolling around in a group of seven (three French people, a Belgian, a Dutch, an Aussie and I…worst film title ever) is quite the anomaly for a shy loner like myself and this weekend reminded me why I don’t do it more often. Trying to sit down anywhere in such a big group is next to impossible, whether it’s for a yummy mummy brunch in Angel on a Monday morning or relaxed drinks at a quaint central pub on a Sunday evening. However, what really did stand out was our repeated experience when trying to sit down for the most basic of all refreshments: a coffee.

We enter, we wander around, we ask a member of staff if there are any seats, they say no, we sigh and look sad, the French people mutter some stereotypical expletives, then we leave. But as this scenario repeated itself across the varied genres of café in Shoreditch, Camden, Hampstead, Covent Garden, Angel, London Bridge and Notting Hill, I couldn’t help but notice the consistent theme amongst even the most diverse of those establishments that purport to sell the brown bean of energy: Apples.

Every café, every table, a table for two, yet no couples, pairs of friends or business meetings, but the new age person with their pet: one man and his laptop.

The coffee house was once a beacon of cultural activity, a place Dickens and friends would meet to discuss culture, society and facial hair styles. Before that it was the home of business, the original stock exchange, a place Lloyd and friends would meet to discuss trading, insurance and a future legacy of controlling world finance. And now? A hub of the solitary, the perfect meeting point not for trading culture or trading business, but for trading a small espresso for the WiFi password.

The fact that a group of friends are unable to find a table in a café because they are all taken up by people on computers is a sad state of affairs. Before even the stock exchange trend, the café was initially created to be a social environment, facilitated by energising caffeinated beverages and perhaps a slice of lemon drizzle cake (this last part is unconfirmed but I’d like to think it was the discerning 17th century Londoner’s dessert of choice). Nowadays it is a faux-office abyss, the silence of the internet punctuated by the occasional noises of typing, clicking or screams of “OH SHIT!” as someone spills their flat white latte on their keyboard.

People are entitled to work where they want, to do what they want, but the extent of the plugged-in masses I observed across all manner of cafés throughout the entire city this weekend really disturbed me, not to mention aggravated my self-interested issue that a group of people who wanted to drink and talk were unable to in lieu of too many people deciding their houses weren’t productive enough working environments.

I don’t have a ready made solution to this problem although I do have some suggestions, and yes I will call it a problem as this weekend it was repeatedly to the detriment of an activity I value far higher than using a computer: old friends from afar catching up and socialising, in person. One technique I have seen are those cafés proudly expressing on a chalk board outside, “WE DON’T HAVE WIFI HERE – TALK TO EACH OTHER”, but I don’t particularly subscribe to this idea because, for the foreign traveller, a bit of free public internet can sometimes be conducive to their experience in a city as vast and potentially daunting as London. Another possibility is a sign banning Apples, the obvious and disturbing downside to this being blatant discrimination against those who just want some strudel – a valid choice in the absence of chocolate cake or the aforementioned citrus pudding. My final idea does have potential however, and is based arou–

Sorry, I’ll finish the article later, my spiced chai mocha just arrived.