Every now and then, between dropping the kid off at creche and arriving at work, I sneak off to a quiet place where I can read my book uninterrupted and have a cup of coffee. Self-indulgent. A little mid-week luxury. I have to admit, I afforded myself quite a number of these to get through Anna Karenina.
It's no surprise that The Glenwood Bakery hits the spot; strong black coffee, a lovely, buttery croissant and a book make for a fabulous combination. When I go there, I'm always reminded of my Swiss grandparents, who would spend a couple of month visiting Durban when we were children. They loved the warmth, the sea air, the palm trees, but their main complaint was that there was no decent bread to be had. I feel, had the Glenwood Bakery been around then, they would most definitely have approved! There's nothing like bread to recreate a sense of home.