"Two coffees. Strong. And two..." Borje speaks over his shoulder to where I sit by the window, drawing long breaths of clean air... "Ready to eat yet? They do a good all-day breakfast. Decent food and they don't mess with the portions."
"Why not?" In truth, my stomach roiling, I don't much want it, but...
Bridges to build...
"Two coffees and two A.D.Bs."
The breakfast is everything Borje promised. The staff clearly know him, and the plate of food is generous. By the time I've downed one cup of bitterly strong black coffee and I'm working on another, I find the meal appeals after all.
Borje works at ham, eggs and toast until nothing remains but crumbs, then swipes his mouth with a napkin. "Lars, that's a Nordic name."
His enquiry sounds friendly enough. "My family has Norwegian roots."
"Not Norway itself?"
"British Columbia."
"You see them often? Get over there much?"
"No."
Time for a change of subject...