Pat and I were on the way to Paris and London, and we were accompanied by our grandson, Jeff, who had just graduated from high school. Jeff was good company, and we soon learned that he had another attribute that made him an invaluable traveling companion. His young eyes had the vision of an eagle, and he could read flight schedules on the walls clear across the airport terminal. We arrived in Paris, checked into the hotel, had dinner, and walked around the city for a while.
The next morning, I was up first. I got cleaned up and dressed and went downstairs in search of a cup of coffee. The hotel served a continental breakfast, but they weren’t open yet. I went out front and discovered that the hotel was next to a deli. A man was putting up a couple of tables and chairs on the sidewalk, so I asked him if I could get a cup of coffee. He pointed to one of the chairs and indicated that I should sit down. He went inside and soon returned with a cup of boiling hot water sitting on a saucer. Next to the cup was a red thing that looked like a capsule. I paid the man and thanked him, all while staring at the capsule thing. I didn’t know if I should toss this thing into the cup or if I should try to open it. What a dilemma! I had been a coffee drinker for 50 years and had never been faced with a situation like this. After staring at the thing for a while, I decided it probably wasn’t soluble. I picked at the capsule thing for a while and was finally able to pour it’s contents into the hot water. I stirred the cup and began to inhale the delicious aroma of a fine cup of coffee. I took a sip and was rewarded with a taste of the richest and strongest cup of coffee I had ever had. These French people know what they are doing. You folks of a more cosmopolitan nature may be used to this kind of stuff, but it was overwhelming to a small-town boy like me.