TWINS : restaurant-Café

The showers came, and the blue walls of Shefshawan were drenched deeper. We hurried into a coffee shop called "Twins" and the rain was woven into a white curtain behind us. Knowing that this place was originally a twin, the restaurant and the cafe lived adjacent to the roof, a total of rain shelter. The owner's brow was warm and generous, and he admitted the wolves of our group of 20 people. He smiled warmly, guided the people to rest, and thoughtfully signaled the bathroom. The warmth here is like a shimmer that quietly disperses the coldness in the rain in a foreign country. It is located in a semi-open-air mat, with a ceiling covering the head, but no obstruction. The rain silk is woven like a curtain, broken on the stone road, splashing countless dazzling water. From a distance, the mountains and cities are soaked in the wet smoke, like a layer of old paper, the rain curtain is a natural ink barrier, separated from the dust, but generously pushed the wet mountain city vision. The warm fragrance of coffee is filled in time. A small cup, brown liquid in the pure cup, a light bite, the warm sweetness quietly climbed the tip of the tongue, the original hidden mystery: with the cup with two square sugars, crystal like unmelted broken jade. Picking up a piece of contained in the mouth, the long-lost, rustic and determined sweetness, actually let the tip of the tongue slightly worried the sweetness between this inch, if the time machine, instantly push people back to that simple and slow childhood afternoon, it in Shanghai this endless city pool, has been forgotten for many years. At this moment, the taste buds recognized the password in the memory, sweet in the lips and teeth, and there was a bit of re-encounter with the knowledge of the past. This square inch of heaven and earth, no wall, only the square inch above the head to cover the wind and rain. Sitting here, cold rain outside the handy, we can sit in the aroma of coffee like a boat. The rain, the water vapor, actually infiltrate this blue mountain city into a flowing, sloppy poetry. The original so-called journey station, but a cup of warm, a few squares of sugar, and a side that let people look at the world's eaves people in a foreign country, their hearts in the rain, actually found a moment of clarity. #Yan Control's favorite afternoon tea #Coffee Travel