Wear the wrong coat, walk to the bench anyway, and hold the cup with both hands.

November is the best month for this and nobody will tell you so. In summer, coffee outside is just coffee. In November it is a small, stubborn act of defiance against the idea that the year is over.

Equipment

  • One proper cup, not a lidded one. You want the steam.
  • One coat, buttoned wrongly from hurrying.
  • No phone. Or at least, no phone that you look at.
  • A bench with its back to the wind, if the town has been kind enough to provide one.

Method

Make it stronger than you normally would, because the cold takes the top off it. Walk it to the bench without spilling more than a third. Sit down on the damp wood and accept that you will be damp.

The first sip does nothing. The second is where it starts. By the third your hands have warmed through and the harbour has gone a colour that does not have a name yet, somewhere between pewter and dishwater, and you notice you have stopped composing emails in your head.

Misty mountains beyond a grassy ridge
The view from the bench is flatter than this, but the weather is the same.

The trick is to leave before it stops being pleasant, which is about nine minutes.

That is the whole secret. You do not need to be someone who loves the cold. You only need nine minutes, and a cup, and somewhere to go back to.