It’s nearly 4:00 PM on this early November afternoon as I finally gaze out at the Atlantic sun on a beach in A Coruña, Galicia. With a wonderful nomad picnic spread out in front of me on the sand and a freshly squeezed Minipresso in hand, I’m just warming up from a quick celebratory swim in the ocean waves. A dip to seal the promise I made myself while back in Barcelona to touch the salty waters on either side of the Iberian Peninsula.

Rewind two weeks.

I’m on the Mediterranean – a backpack fastened to both sides of my bike rack, trudging through the sand in my cycling cleats, Lycra holding everything together. As I lean down to put my hand in the sea, I take a moment to consider what I’m getting myself into. I’m not a touring cyclist after all; the longest trip I’ve made at this point wasn’t even for two consecutive days. The thought finds its place in the back of my mind, and I take my first few pedal strokes west with only 1,092 km to go.

Coffee is all about connections and collaborations. Whether it’s in the café where local communities come together, or it’s in the fields where coffee is being grown and processed by the farmers, it’s this theme that drew me into the rabbit hole of specialty coffee in the first place. The basis for this trek was to continue my coffee research in a part of Spain less-explored, make connections with the innovators of the industry, and showcase nomadic coffee brewing along the way. I had done a lot of research before my trip, specific to my route, but with essentially nothing surfacing on the web, personal connections (and a fair amount of luck) would prove to be more relevant than I could have imagined.

a Planning Term

with Masahiro Onishi

with Hiroki Matsumiya