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Ode to Oldhand



I’ve always loved coffee shops the smell of freshly ground coffee and baked scones, the constant background noise, the people watching. If I could, I’d spend all my free time hanging out in coffee shops, typing away on my laptop, or reading some Gothic novel I found at Hemingway’s. I think what I like most about coffee shops, though, is the fact that you could go anywhere in the world, and find a similar place to sit back, enjoy a coffee, and watch strangers pass by. Even in a strange city, coffee shops are a haven for the homesick.

At my favourite Abbotsford haunt, Oldhand, everyone is friendly, and takes a genuine interest in how you’re doing. The food is great, the espresso is phenomenal, and even though it’s often crowded, I can usually snag a corner table by the window, where I can hide for a few hours and get some work done. You get a good feeling when you’re supporting local businesses run by cool people, and one day, I’d love to open a small coffee shop of my own. But, if you come in to Oldhand before me, and don’t leave me any doughnuts, I will fight you.

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