In search of the ultimate cup of coffee

One of the crappier streets in Schwabing

Saturday was ein schöner Tag.  There was a rumour going around München that a café existed that served good coffee.  It was whispered in the quiet streets, furtively passed from stranger to stranger, that there existed a single venue known only to those that craved coffee.  Coffee that wasn't made from a machine programmed to make something resembling coffee.  Coffee that was made by a skilled practitioner of barrista arts using only the freshest of beans supplemented by milk squeezed from a cow and not boiled at ultra high temperature until all resemblance of milk is lost.  On this particular Saturday Annika and I went in search of the legendary Caffe Fausto.

We found it after a brief search on the internet.

Finding it in the real world was on little bit harder and involved a bit of a ride.  Caffe Fausto ist ein sehr kleines Café.  It literally only has two small tables and it is really a coffee retailer that happens to make the occasional coffee rather than a café.  None the less the coffee was very good.  The best I have had in Germany.

That night we had Berndt and Verena over dinner.  Berndt and Verena are friends of Christoph and Tanja, the owners of our apartment, and they are part of the lease agreement.  Not only do we get their apartment but we get their friends as well.  A good deal I think.

Hands free on the Fixie in the Englisch Garten

Sunday had us breakfasting with Melanie at Cafe Schwabing.  The day was so nice that the three of us decided to go for a short ride.  We headed North through the Englisch Garten with no real objective or destination in mind.  We finally left the park and headed up the West bank of the Isar until we found a bridge where we crossed and started heading back.  We stopped at a small lake and spent about an hour sitting on the grass in the sun, dangling our feet in the water and watching coots trying to make lots of little coots.  We left thinking that a cold beer would be just the thing to round off the afternoon.  We had barely ridden 200 meters before spying a small Bier Garten nestled in the trees.  Providence had smiled upon us