The Majestic Cafe is buzzing. Sculptures smile down from a ceiling of double cream and luscious peach. Conversations bubble and flow, fuelled by an endless current of coffee. At table quatro, sits a quarrelling couple. They gesticulate and scoff, then lower their voices to flirtatious whispers. At table uma, posturing and politics are served with piccolos. At table cinco, a man with a notebook.

His hand scurries across the page, as though his wild imaginings will evaporate forever if not captured at once. Tuxedoed wait staff spin on polished heel in seamless elegance. I order a double espresso. It’s that kind of day