Wednesday, 9 March 2011

Diversion

Let's cut to the chase: only the crazy, the misguided or the terminally optimistic would ever buy a cafe. It's bloody hard work, there's a long period of going broke before actually making any money. What money you do eventually make is, on a per hour basis, probably as poor as anything you've been paid since lugging fridges for Ken Bruce Has Gone Mad. Oh, wait, that was me, not you... And that was - from memory - $2.80 an hour, so that gives you some idea what I'm talking about...

So, yes, I was crazy, misguided and terminally optimistic. I'd spent years frequenting cafes and had often thought wistfully that I'd love to have one of my very own. Next time I covet something I hope it's a book or a work of art. Something I can enjoy without the nervous breakdown...

Don't get me wrong - I loved the cafe. I loved it and was proud of it and was bloody good at running it (eventually). Have a look at these pics and you'll get an idea of what we created from what had been a ye olde worlde, dark, soulless cafe with no customers.

Before...



After...
































And that transformation was just after a three-week-long family working bee. The real growth and creativity came later, once the place was up and running. For the time being though, the cafe took up all my time and all my money (and LOTS of money that wasn't mine), so any thoughts I had of building on the hill were shelved. As I said in an earlier post, I spent a lot of time sitting on the hill (in retrospect not all that much on inclement days...), but there simply wasn't the time or the finances to do anything but keep the cafe afloat in the hope that one day it'd turn a profit...

1 comment:

  1. I'm loving reading this story! More! More!

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