Anyone for a cuppa?

This is a horrendous cliche, but there's something that's so perfectly British about tea. It elicits fine bone china teapots, teacups and saucers, with delicately fragrant liquid, a dainty little milk jug, a fantastically decorated sugar spoon, a carefully laid out tea table in someone's house on a quiet Sunday afternoon. And, of course, polite conversation. Asking after one's family, one's work, one's health. But never dipping below the surface to discuss and debate the more intense subjects that make up a social minefield laden with potential faux pas.

There are, however, other teas and tea pots out there that lend themselves to more philosophical conversation and ways of living. The Tea House in Covent Garden is a little shrine to tea as a ritual, a concept that has a rich history in Japan. I'm a little ashamed (although not really) to admit I get a tad excited by a tea pot I bought a few years back, supported by an eccentric collection of loose leaf teas, and a few Japanese teacups. They beautifully lend themselves to creating your own little bubble of zen, sitting or lounging, sipping and pouring, and serenely discussing life, the universe and everything.

Coffee, on the other hand, has a more fiery past. London itself has its own history of the coffee house, where people would go to debate politics, ideologies, science, history, religion with friends and with strangers. There are even those that suggest that the Age of Enlightenment was fuelled by coffee and these coffee houses. This is also a scene that you see around (the more liberal) Middle-Eastern/Mediterranean countries, or the MidMed as my flatmate has labelled this cultural crossover; people sitting around in coffee houses or dropping in on each other unannounced, hands gesturing wildly with passion as politics and other topics of extreme opinion are heatedly debated over a hastily put together table heavy with coffee, juice, fruit and nuts.

I love this combination of MidMed/coffee house culture. I've already written about Foyles Cafe, and described one of the unexpected conversations I've had there as an example. Going to a coffee shop not to "grab" a coffee (a turn of phrase that appears to be rife in the busy city) but to sit there with a drink and either work, read or talk is a brilliant way of getting some headspace. I adore the history of it, the fact that ideas are born there. We're seeing the emergence of that same culture now over in Tech City in east London, where people gather together to discuss and share minds.

So why am I going on about the differences in culture around different teas and different coffees? It's actually related to my last post about impulse and serendipity. Out last Saturday night chatting to two good friends, the three of us had an epiphany. We never phone each other up on the spur of the moment to say, "What are you up to? Fancy going for a coffee?" We always assume the other is too busy, that we need to plan seeing each other. In that perfectly British polite way that lends itself so well to queuing, we don't want to impose on the others' day. Chatting about it, we realised the reality was more often than not that each of us is free and would love a coffee, or a drink of any kind; it's less about the beverage, more about the setting and the conversation.

The culture shock of the forwardness of someone from the MidMed is tangible, and can often offend even the stiffest of British sensibilities. But they've got something right. The passion and the spontaneity of their get-togethers and their conversation lends itself to meeting up informally before then finding yourself having your opinion challenged, being offended, being forced to defend your corner. Going back to the history of coffee houses in London, how can you know what you believe, how do you know what you stand for, until you're challenged or until you hear a new idea that you find yourself agreeing with? Asking after family and health and work is all important, but how can you really know someone and know yourself until confronted with something you don't agree with or that excites you by its truth?

If you're with friends or with strangers, there's no need for ceremony. Of course, you need to be respectful of others' opinions; otherwise you're just arguing and attempting to preach and impose your own way of thinking, without being open to new thoughts. And I'm a great believer in the more realistic shades of grey within any debate that can't be tied up with pretty ribbons as you dust off your hands at a job done, as opposed to backing extreme black and white ways of looking at the world. Nor have we always got the luxury of sitting around for hours waxing lyrical. But if you've got time to kill and you're wondering what to do, why not head down to the nearest coffee house, grab the nearest friend (not literally, as that may lead to an awkward court case and subsequent restraining order), abandon the norms of polite conversation, and see where the next few hours take you.

Image source: I Heart Pencils blog