Common Loaf Bakery
From the outside, this inviting little bakery resembles a colorful fairytale style house, or perhaps a blueprint for an ambitious gingerbread house. As you approach the front door, the comforting aroma of fresh coffee and home-baked bread intensifies and your stomach responds with a growl. The place is bustling with chatter, laughter and the high pitch squeal of the overworked espresso machine. Once at the till, the blurry-eyed cashier sporting a ripped t-shirt and multiple facial piercings asks you what you would like to enjoy. He moves at a snail's pace and does not seem overly concerned with the growing line that has now extended out the door. No one else in the place seems to be in much of a hurry either. A weathered old man with a beard down to his chest appears to be sleeping upright in the corner; two young women with dreadlocks chat with heads huddled closely in the center of the room; a young couple sits in silence while browsing a copy of the Tofino Time Magazine. The term “Tofino time” makes you smile. You are starting to understand what this means.
Glancing around you notice all of the tables and chairs are occupied. You decide to try your chances upstairs and ascend the winding central staircase while precariously balancing your coffee, cinnamon bun, and paper under your arm. Only one empty seat presents itself at a window table already occupied by a solo middle-aged woman starring down at her thick black coffee.
“May I sit here,” you inquire in a moderately chipper tone.
“Be my guest,” she responds with a smile.
The woman has a soft round face sprinkled with fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Her long straight brownish gray hair falls loosely around her face giving her a childlike air. She is the type of person you feel inclined to hug on your first meeting, warm and welcoming.
You initiate a conversation, “How are the scones this morning?”
“As good as ever,” she responds mid-bite. “You know I’ve been coming to Clayoquot Sound since the 80’s, and I never bothered to come to the very end of the road until this bakery was built. As far as I was concerned there was no reason. The wilderness was where I wanted to be. But who can resist these delectable oven baked pieces of heaven?”
“I can appreciate that. I have a pretty strong sweet tooth too, and an insatiable coffee addiction,” you openly admit.
“You know in the 90’s this bakery was quite the local hangout for environmentalists and protesters trying to save the forests. After spending the summer camping out in the woods this is the first place I came. Well to be honest,” she hesitated briefly, “I don’t come back to the area all that often anymore. It’s too busy, too expensive, and too hard to find somewhere to stay,” she shakes her head in dismay.
“So it’s changed for the worse then?” You try and understand where she’s coming from.
“Well, I guess it’s not for the worse, it’s just different and I prefer it how it used to be. I prefer the days when you could pitch a tent on the beach, when this café was one of the only eateries in town, and all those who came to visit the area had deep passion for nature. I suppose everything changes, it has to, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
BACK ON THE ROAD
Glancing around you notice all of the tables and chairs are occupied. You decide to try your chances upstairs and ascend the winding central staircase while precariously balancing your coffee, cinnamon bun, and paper under your arm. Only one empty seat presents itself at a window table already occupied by a solo middle-aged woman starring down at her thick black coffee.
“May I sit here,” you inquire in a moderately chipper tone.
“Be my guest,” she responds with a smile.
The woman has a soft round face sprinkled with fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Her long straight brownish gray hair falls loosely around her face giving her a childlike air. She is the type of person you feel inclined to hug on your first meeting, warm and welcoming.
You initiate a conversation, “How are the scones this morning?”
“As good as ever,” she responds mid-bite. “You know I’ve been coming to Clayoquot Sound since the 80’s, and I never bothered to come to the very end of the road until this bakery was built. As far as I was concerned there was no reason. The wilderness was where I wanted to be. But who can resist these delectable oven baked pieces of heaven?”
“I can appreciate that. I have a pretty strong sweet tooth too, and an insatiable coffee addiction,” you openly admit.
“You know in the 90’s this bakery was quite the local hangout for environmentalists and protesters trying to save the forests. After spending the summer camping out in the woods this is the first place I came. Well to be honest,” she hesitated briefly, “I don’t come back to the area all that often anymore. It’s too busy, too expensive, and too hard to find somewhere to stay,” she shakes her head in dismay.
“So it’s changed for the worse then?” You try and understand where she’s coming from.
“Well, I guess it’s not for the worse, it’s just different and I prefer it how it used to be. I prefer the days when you could pitch a tent on the beach, when this café was one of the only eateries in town, and all those who came to visit the area had deep passion for nature. I suppose everything changes, it has to, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
BACK ON THE ROAD