I’ve been to Paris a few times now. Enough to not need to climb the Eiffel Tower. Enough to not need to see the Mona Lisa. Enough to not need to eat a Nutella crepe. Enough to have favourite coffee shop.
When I first popped into Fragments I had to wait for a seat to open up. I grabbed a take away coffee and waited outside. The notes of caramel and nuts in my flat white were as delicious as the notes of music coming from the big box speakers on the floor.
I finished that cup at a table next to the bar. And before I ordered another, I had fallen in love. As one does in Paris.
It’s not that the coffee was excellent. Which it was. It’s not that the service was thoughtful. Which it was. I fell in love with Fragments for the very same reason I fell in love with my wife. She’s a young lady with an old soul.
Trying to capture everything that Fragments is with a photograph would be like trying to capture everything my wife is with the same. But let me try anyway…