I’m hiking a side trail in the Grand Park of Tirana, a large forest in the city surrounding Lake Tirana.
I come to a clearing and find a man setting a breakfast table for himself on a piece of upturned log.
He has placed a tiny tablecloth over the wood, prepared the food and a couple of drinks, one water and another that looks like an alcoholic beverage.
He sits on another upturned log to eat.
He is eating alone, this man in the woods, having set a fine table for himself.
Perhaps he is celebrating something, or dining alone with a lost love in mind.
I like to think he does this regularly, just because he wants to.
A little further along the path, I find people drinking coffee on a patio in the woods, tiled floors pushing up against the soil of the forest floor.
I can hardly believe my luck.
Such civilized hiking.
I attempt to order a cafe latte, but the barman is unsure and looks at the server.
The server says, “Cappuccino”.
The cappuccino is delicious.
There are about twenty customers scattered around the patio, all locals it seems, women sitting together at tables and men sitting alone.
There is a young couple at one table and they are both staring at their phones, and I do not notice that they talk to each other or even look at each other the whole time I’m there.
I, for one, am spending most of my coffee break looking into the forest, feeling enormous gratitude.
An elderly man sits alone at a table near me.
He is wearing the typical dress of a retired gentleman – shirt tucked into trousers with an all-weather jacket and a tweed flat cap.
But when he stands to leave, I see he’s wearing space-age, shiny silver sneakers.
I love that he has a bit of a quirky side to him, like the man dining in the forest.
A delightful outing I had at this forest cafe.
