When I told friends that I was joining a coffee crawl one weekend, I was met by a few iterations of the same reaction: bewilderment. Followed by the question What exactly are you going to do? In a city where almost everybody drinks coffee and professes their love for it, you’d think that coffee crawling would be more common. Two Saturdays ago, I found out that this activity is for the truly curious, passionate, and ready to be schooled. And I was two of those three things.

I came across the open invitation on Instagram where I follow more than a dozen accounts dedicated to coffee. Don’t judge — I find images of intricate latte art, paper cups filled with dark liquid, and warmly lit spaces very therapeutic. I also do this to scout local coffee shops where I could work the next time I tire of typing away on my dining table.

A self-professed coffee lover, I must admit that I felt a little embarrassed to actually know very little about coffee. I said I loved it but I didn’t know much about it. Sounds like a bad romance, doesn’t it?

A few years ago, I produced web content for a coffee roaster based in Florida. During my research, I became familiar with the Aeropress, pour over, the single origin coffees, Blue Mountain, Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, etc. However, these were all just terminology to me. I’ve never had a sip or a whiff of the aromas I’d been describing. What I’ve read about coffee sparked a curiosity in me though. But it wasn’t until a couple of years later, long after my contract with the coffee roaster had ended, that I chanced upon my first delicious cup while waiting for a doctor’s appointment. I was told was a Mt.Kitanglad — it was black but it wasn’t bitter and it didn’t leave an awful aftertaste in my mouth. It was a revelation of sorts and I wanted to know more. So when the opportunity to explore came, I jumped on it.

Fast forward to the day of the coffee crawl. I met @coffeecrawlerph, who was until then a faceless but friendly Instagram coffee account, and the rest of the crawlers at our first stop: Ella and the Blackbird.

When I arrived, everyone was gathered around a long table introducing themselves and sharing their coffee journey. It was a merry band of the just curious and the experienced. There were foodies, home baristas, a professional barista, and even a cafe owner. Ever the socially awkward person that I am, you can imagine how anxious I felt at the prospect of speaking up. What do I tell them? That I’m a connoisseur of 3-in-1’s? That I’ve only
recently bought a French press? In the end there wasn’t much to say except the truth. They listened and welcomed me with their warmth and generosity of knowledge. And so the fun began.