We are coffee lovers. And as we have our trusted coffee dealer at home – and always some of their coffee in our bags while traveling -, we never stop looking for local coffee roasters when on the road.

It’s been on our very last days in Ireland, when we (very literally) „stranded“ on a campside in Strandhill.  And luckily so, we were right in time for the „Strandhill People’s Market“. Located in one of the hangars at Sligo Airport, it really is the market of the Strandhill people. Everything we saw was selfcooked, selfbrewed or selfmade. All stalls belong to small local businesses. And between Asian food stalls, fresh herbs + spices, ceramics, soaps and artsy prints, we found…who would have guessed… a local coffee producer: Andrew Willis from “Carrow Coffee Roasters“.

After a little chat, as well as trying some of their coffee, Andrew invited us to meet him again on their family farm the next day, where – only since late 2017! – the small specialty coffee roastery is located.

Welcome to Carrowgarry, home of roasting, but also sole name giver of Carrow Coffee Roasters!

Leaving the main road, we were stunned by the beautiful path leading us through greenery and into a group of huge lush trees. Quite an entry. Carrowgarry belongs to Andrews family in the sixth generation, and it surely looks like a dream come true for townspeople like us. The romantic beauty of it almost let us forget the huge work that comes with running a farm like this…

We meet Andrew at the farmstead, where he also explains to us that Carrowgarry mainly is a sheep and vegetable farm, but more on this later.

Passing a big wooden barn, a tractor and a few sheep, we reach Andrews pride and joy: Looking all fresh and shiny a little wooden house greets us warmly. Hidden inside: Their brand new roasting machine. It is impossible to stand in a room like this and not feel the urge of a nice cup of coffee in your hands…

Carrow Coffee is all about the light and medium roasts, that allow „a bean’s intrinsic flavour to shine through“ as they put it. Sourcing their beans from small farms, the range might change from season to season, but that is a diversity they celebrate. Currently there is Espresso from Minas Gerais in Brazil, as well as two filter coffees, from Rwanda and the Colombian Andes.

And Colombia actually is the country where this whole idea started: With his roots in journalism Andrew spent four years traveling Colombia on assignment, visiting farms and learning everything he could about the coffee production process.

Back then living in a small apartment in Bogota with Paola, he began taking roasting and cupping classes and finally started his very own roasting experiments in the attic of their apartment.

And when they decided to start their own coffee business once back in Ireland, everything came together just perfectly, as Paolas family roots lie in Trieste, the coffee infused hometown of Illy in Italy.

While she also brings her knowledge as a project and communications manager to their business, that still isn’t the whole story of these two. We are leaving the roaster shack to meet Paola in the vegetable garden. Wearing rubber boots and gloves, she’s bringing new plants into the ground. Potatoes and onions, kale and leeks, rhubarb and apples, flowers and herbs… you name it.

A very humble attitude surrounds both of them, as they tell us about the hard every day work and the year to year struggle. Still we can feel that this is the place where they belong: Growing organic vegetables without the use of chemicals, roasting coffee from small farmers and living by the sea and with their family. Sometimes they flee cold Ireland in winter to spend the Christmas Holidays with Paolas family in Italy. With the roots of their story spread across the globe, their own roots grow deeper into the soil of Carrowgarry with each year and season.

Of course we took some of their bags home with us – but, funny enough, we might even get the chance to get a proper cup served here in Berlin every now and then, as Andrews cousin Tom runs the „Mint Café“ in our home district Pankow. Time to visit there soon!

Completely unexpected we found a place, we knew we could stay forever.
The island of Runde, Norway.

Both of us had never been to Norway before. But with our known love for the wild and untamed Atlantic Ocean, rough coasts, solitary islands (and people), we expected to fall in love.
And yes, we did find those places, we found solitude and storms, we felt pure and alive and we did wish that we could stay many more weeks – or maybe forever?

Runde. A tiny outpost on the western coast of Norway, a little south to Ålesund.
To reach it, you have to hop over nine other islands, so you basically only end up there if you intend to.
Except if you totally didn’t intend to – but then get stuck in exhausting rainy stormy Norwegian weather and try to find the nearest campground.

We had never before heard the name Runde, nor did we know anything about it. I quickly looked it up on my phone, that told me:
„Runde is a little island, known for its bird populations.“
Then I looked up the route and burst out with laughter, when tiny Runde with its sole paved road appeared on Google Maps.
The island itself looked like a bird returning home from across the Atlantic.

So we past the nine islands, crossed the last bridge and followed the road almost until its end.
It was in the evening, we were exhausted, tired and hungry. We went asking for a cabin in the little shop we saw and we were lucky. Not only did we get a lovely home for the night, but also some food and drinks. And as we sat down with a simple plate of pasta watching the ocean in front of our window, we couldn’t have been more grateful.
That was also when we saw our feathered neighbour for the first time.

Falling asleep, we both knew we wouldn’t be leaving the next day.

In the morning we didn’t have to argue about it, and after our first coffee we quickly went back to the shop to extend our stay.
At first Inguna looked sad, as she had to tell us, a class of school kids was expected and all cabins were booked…
but then a smirk flew over her face and she said „there might be something…“.
She quickly asked Knut, her husband, then came back to explain that only few people are allowed to live in this „special place“.
When we followed Knut a few minutes later, a huge smile appeared on both our faces as we realised:
We would be sleeping in that tiny house, that we saw when we entered the island the day before. That tiny house, where we both thought
how cute it was and what a dreamy place to live. That tiny house, standing there on stony rocks, bracing the storms of the Atlantic.
That tiny house, formerly the pilot hut of Runde.

That is where we found our home.
We spent hours in our own backyard by the lighthouse.
Hiking on the black rocks, listening to the roaring water, watching the change from white to turqouise to dark blue and back.
The open water before us, the protective hill behind and in the middle our little perfect cabin.
Almost humble it was standing there, completely unaware of its importance to the sailors back in the day – or to us in this exact moment.

For us Runde became the one single place in Norway we’d be missing the most.
Not the majestic fjords, not the snowy mountain roads, not even the endless scapes of fjells and woods, where we also felt deepest bliss.
We dream ourselves back in that special little white wooden cabin by the sea.
On the island with its one single road that ends in front of a mountain.
To its birds, its sounds, its silence.

Its a longing we will have to answer, when once more we’ll drive over nine islands to meet the bird that crossed the Atlantic.