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The first day back home I woke up to a simple, yet special breakfast, that my mum prepared for me: the last strawberries and raspberries of the year and a cup of real coffee. Real is what I call the coffee when the smell makes you feel like you are home: strong and cozy at the same time.

During the morning I baked a loaf of bread and ate the first slice with a some goat cheese. Sitting at the table, taking a rest from the sun.

At dinner we ate outside, on the balcony, my favorite spot of the house. There is a robust wooden table my dad made. While the sun was setting just behind the mountains, we ate, talked and enjoyed.

 

 

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