Finding Joy: The Story of a Summer Cafe

The idea was to create a space where people could relax and feel great, somewhere I could interact with and be lifted by that interaction. A space for me to once again chase joy after months of despair.

But with only a few summer months in which to trade outdoors this far north, it needed to be cheap to build and simple to operate. Those were the parameters, the restrictions which guided the decision making. The compass for what would become our ‘Coffee Shack’

We found an old bar that fitted into the space we’d been offered - a small jetty sitting between a heavily trodden river path and a boat restaurant that opened in the evenings. The owner of the boat was someone I was becoming friends with, and we came to a loose agreement to open during the day time (when his restaurant didn’t), and then share some general facilities - washing up, water, electricity etc.

We’d also promote each other and collaborate on some special events over the summer. I’m keen to say that the relationship, between he and I, has since blossomed into a wonderful friendship. A boundless belief in each other born through unspoken commitments to quick responses, candidness and mutual consideration. A loving fondness born between two men in their 40s. How splendid.?

With limited resources we decided to refurbish the bar without buying anything new. Constructing the space using items found at recycling centres, second hand shops and online marketplaces. I’d done plenty of large refurbishments in the past, but never before with this approach. Was that scary at first? For sure, but fear soon morphed into liberation. One door seemingly opening the next. We asked for help from friends, itself a pretty scary thing, and received bucket loads in return. The build experience in itself felt almost magical at times.?

Three weeks later we opened and so began my summer slinging espressos by the river.

During the build we'd evolved our brand architecture to match the new offer and went heavy on social content. Buzz quickly built and the place was steady with visitors from the off.

We’d designed a simple offer of greek style, espresso based coffee, square cakes and proper ice cream. Everything design around feel, user experience and setup to be as interactive and Instagrammable as possible, from the shape of the cake to the ‘pillow pit’ we created in the corner. I poured the milk by the table side and served drinks to boats, kayakers and one swimmer - all of which we captured and shared on our social channels.

During the build, I’d run some calculations on the numbers of visitors we might expect. I made assumptions about cover counts, how many would supplement coffee with cake, about group size, average transaction value, visitors per day, the average number of rain days et al. I then pumped it all into an LLM and generated an estimation of cake numbers, the kgs of coffee we’d need, prep hours. I then factored in cost and desired outputs and it was this output that determined what the minimum viable product needed to be. Pre-LLM, this process used to take significantly longer.?

So, you ask. How did it all turn out?

Well, over the 47 days we traded we had an average of 90 visitors per day, with 2/3 of all drink purchases taking an accompanying cake or ice cream. At first it seemed very much like people who had interacted with our brand previously, steadily though I saw more and more new faces, with marketing’s law of seven very much seemingly to apply to all of those who regularly walked by the shack.?

I’d assumed there was a market for takeaway coffee. This proved to be false with 85% of all visitors staying on site. There was also something intriguing about the spread of guests with the majority of transactions happening within less than 5 minutes of each other. This meant I had long periods empty, and once one person came in, it immediately filled. I wonder if I had employed someone to sit there all summer what that would’ve done to the level of trade.

I paid myself a salary. So too my partner who baked our cakes, and we had some profit left over at the end. So, by financial accounts, it was a success.?

But, as I am starting to learn with life, the experience was so much more than money. Every day I would take the bus through the countryside, run in the forest, bathe in the river, open the shack and start speaking to people. I had no calendar, no schedule of meetings, no to-do list. It was a summer living in the moment. Months of joyous fleeting conversation. Of putting smiles on peoples faces, of people putting smiles on mine.

Writing this account in the early autumn I’ve had some weeks for the experience to percolate through. And the strongest sense I have is about the lift I get in service of others. How, in the creation of experiences, in designing environments for people to feel good, I feel great. How, when I have autonomy to explore, to be curious, to inquire, I feel content and at ease. And ultimately, after an unpleasant period working in a toxic environment, how good it felt to have the space to just be me.?

Once again though, as we head further into the autumn, time has come for a change, but this time without the barreling need to do so. Instead, I look keenly out onto the horizon, ready to embrace whatever comes next.?