My visits to KAFO were always the same: a third place, a refuge, and a sanctuary I could walk or cycle to in under ten minutes from my old apartment. I made friends there, discovered new places by word of mouth, and eventually left a few of my business cards on their community board.
To be honest, I had more than enough work at the time, but I’d got the cards printed and figured it wouldn’t hurt. They vanished quickly. Naturally, a quiet panic set in — what if I had to turn people down? Saying no has always been a struggle for me, yet somehow I had managed to set up a website complete with booking forms and contact slots. I just had to keep it updated.
I still have a few business cards left.
That board is what led to another story — one linked to KAFO and one of the most memorable people I ever met there.
I had noticed a blonde girl around the café. She was often carrying a large artist’s portfolio case or a drawing tube. One day, while I was sitting in the back room preparing lessons, she walked up to me holding one of my business cards. In excellent English, she asked if I could teach her.
I was thrilled, but I didn’t have the capacity for another client. Instead, I offered a compromise: whenever we happened to be at KAFO at the same time, she could come over and chat. No charge, completely free.
That was how I met a bright, witty, and exceptionally funny young woman.
During our subsequent chats, she did exactly as I’d suggested. We talked about life and everything in between — her parents, her dreams, her travel plans, and her architecture studies (which explained the portfolio bag). There was even talk of a place at a university in Kraków.
Then, during one of those conversations, she confessed a different dream: she wanted to work as a barista, right there at KAFO. She was desperate to break into the coffee industry.
Not long after, I went to KAFO right at opening time for breakfast. The front door was still locked, though the security gate was pulled back. Paweł saw me and opened up early. As I sat quietly while he prepared the bar, my friend walked in carrying freshly made sandwiches. She had taken a job with Bella GoodCake, helping in the kitchen, delivering sandwiches by bicycle, and doing whatever else was needed.
“What about Kraków?” I asked.
She explained that she had reconsidered. She was hoping that working alongside the café might eventually lead to a trainee barista role at KAFO. The early mornings were tough, but she was determined. I told her I’d make a wish and keep my fingers and toes crossed for her.
It wasn’t long before that wish came true.
Walking into KAFO one morning, I was overjoyed to see her standing behind the counter wearing an apron, beaming with pride.
In her absolute excitement to see me, her hands came together as if to clap — completely forgetting she was holding a glass Kalita server in each hand. The jugs collided mid-air with enough force that both shattered instantly.
The moment went quiet. Paweł and another barista stood frozen. I offered a sympathetic shrug, muttered something terribly unhelpful like “accidents happen,” and beat a quick retreat to the back room. Behind me, I heard Paweł speaking in low, astonished Polish. I didn’t need an interpreter to understand the mood.
A minute later, she rushed into the storeroom for a broom and dustpan, looking utterly shocked. When she eventually came over to take my order, her eyes were wet with tears. She mentioned quietly that she’d have to pay for the broken glass. All I could manage was, “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.”
Every cloud has a silver lining, though.
She didn’t just stay at KAFO; she thrived.
She learned quickly under firm but fair guidance. Beyond her growing technical skills, it was her radiant energy, warmth, and laughter that made her a pillar of the team. While other staff might prefer to spend their breaks in the office or in a quiet corner, she would often sit next to me and chat about life, coffee, and front-of-house service. You have no idea how much those conversations meant to me.
Around this time, we did a few informal English sessions. Her conversational skills were already fantastic, but we worked on fine-tuning idioms and mastering articles—a classic hurdle for non-native speakers. She once asked me the golden question: “How can I sound more like a native speaker?” My advice was always total immersion: read the books, listen to the radio, and, if possible, live in the country whose language you want to speak.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when, a while later, she sat down on her break to tell me that she and her partner — another talented KAFO barista she’d met whilst working together — were moving to London.
I was thrilled, though admittedly a little anxious for them. I needn’t have worried. They took London by storm, working with trailblazing speciality coffee institutions like Kaffeine. (If you look closely at their site, you can still catch a glimpse of her in the homepage video, and both of them grace the alumni page).
Our paths nearly crossed again back in the UK during the Midlands regional AeroPress heat hosted by HasBean (now Ozone Coffee) in Stafford. Train delays meant she didn’t make it, and caused a competitor to have to drop out, leaving a free spot. The legendary Steve Leighton turned to the audience and asked, “Fancy it?” I panicked and declined—a decision I still playfully regret. What if I had won? With no takers, Steve rolled up his sleeves and filled the empty slot himself. In true AeroPress fashion, he didn’t win either, proving that the device is a great equalizer even on your own home turf.
As it turned out, she was the one doing the winning. In 2017, she won the UK title, then went on to Seoul, Korea, to take the crown as the World AeroPress Champion. In typical fashion, she gave full credit to her partner for coaching, training, and encouraging her every step of the way.
The last I heard, they had moved north of the border to Edinburgh. Her partner remains a respected coffee roaster, while she has expanded her artistic talents into ceramics and pottery, showcasing her work at markets and design pop-ups.
Sitting on my shelf today is a small vase I bought during her early Kickstarter campaign. It serves as a fond reminder of early morning coffees, shattered glass, and watching a determination turn a dream into a world-class reality.
Ghosts to Carry, Stories to Keep 