I go to a lot of cafes. A lot. But in all my visits, today is only the second time I’ve had a significant interaction with a complete stranger – the first time was in Adelaide meeting a bona fide snob. Fleeting encounters are plentiful, such as butting into a conversation about the cost of stainless steel straws and handmade metal spoons, but ones where I actually seem to hold a two sided conversation with someone I’ve never met before, are few and far between.

Today, at a cafe that had only been open for a couple of weeks, I decided, against my better judgement, that instead of going through a caffeine withdrawal phase, I’d get my usual trio of coffees. It just happened to be a very busy period at the cafe, so I popped myself on one of the communal tables. The seat I’d happened to choose had taken me past a person who sat at the end of the table, notebook and pens out, a book, as well as a very vintage looking camera. It was all going as per my normal cafe ritual of playing on my phone, and receiving my many coffees in quick succession, then taking pictures of them. I’m pretty sure the guy looked at me as soon as I started snapping away, but didn’t yet engage in conversation. After the photos, I began sipping away at my espresso. It wasn’t until I unexpectedly spotted a nice setup for one of my coffees, at the same time that the cafe staff was replacing a bottle of water for the table, leading to an awkward moment where the staff paused to allow me to take my photo, and me excusing myself for making a nuisance of myself having rearranged things on the table, that this fellow offered me his camera.He explained that it was a Leica that was over 60 years old. Well, no wonder it was vintage looking, it really was an old camera! In fact, it was so old that it was fascinating. He encouraged me to have a go with it, but having 1. not handled a film camera in many years and 2. not having had experience with other cameras in general, that I was hesitant, but so curious at the same time. The first thing I noticed as my hands went on the camera was its weight. It was a very solid object! He then told me to look through the viewfinder, and I was panicking on the inside because I couldn’t immediately figure out where the viewfinder was! But I managed to hopefully look like I knew what I was doing, and got it first go. Wow. Surprise number two – there was a little rectangle within the frame that almost looked like it was seeing a different section of the view! What started out as mild confusion turned into me trying to grasp everything he began telling me – that the focusing ring had a small knob that could be popped out, and had an indicator of focusing distance – and that was it – you had to estimate your correct distance because the lens itself didn’t do digital magic to show you! He also then pointed out which dial was what: the top right dial was for shutter speed, the furthermost ring on the lens controlled aperture. I also learned that the little “magnified” rectangle in the viewfinder was a parallax window – and that was the only way to have an idea on whether or not you’re focused on the image. Basically, if you’re out of focus, you’ll see double vision in this little window, so you need to adjust the focus until the two pictures become one. How cool!

Not only did I get a crash course in this very lovely camera, I also had to figure out how to actually use the shutter. Being a film camera, the shutter had to be prepped? The lever thing had to be clicked over twice to load the next frame, and then the shutter would work. I took a single picture, hoping that it would have turned out okay. But I won’t know for probably forever, since who knows when the roll will be developed, and whether our paths would cross again.

He then talked about photography and art in general, but I didn’t recognise any names he mentioned. He explained the details of his favourite photographers and painters, and the museums he had went to, and how large than life, and how real everything was. He talked about how these days pictures are taken for granted with the likes of digital cameras and instagram, and how it had devalued the emotional significance of photos. He explained that for him, film was very real, tactile, and invoked memory and nostalgia through the fact that it’s a product of light, not binary; that you can keep a roll of film and develop it much later on, leading to treasuring moments that were once forgotten; that you hold it in your hand and that it’s something that when given to another person, carries a bigger significance than a digital photo. However, he also acknowledged that the advance of technology isn’t a bad thing – he’ll take a picture of his vintage camera and handmade leather strap with a digital camera and post it on Instagram, including the details – because then it spreads awareness and appreciation of the very things he values. He even talked about getting a typewriter to record a story, then taking a photo of the typed document and posting it on Instagram to have a different purpose/message/delivery than simply having it digital in the first place.

I concluded that he had a very practical outlook on life and a great appreciation of all things – embracing old and new, and looking for ways to combine them. This was then further confirmed as the conversation turned philosophical. He went on to talk about the meaning of names, of childhood memories, nostalgia and how there’s an undeniable link to one’s ancestors – that upon getting to know a person, even if they are deceased – through what we see in photos, documents, and constructing our own version of how we believed that person to be, would link us to them in our own special way. He also showed me passages from a book that he had at the time, something about psychic energy. He also placed emphasis on discovering one’s self, using the example of an eye catching eucalyptus tree that stands at one of the churches one could encounter while walking the Camino de Santiago – how out of place the tree was, but also how it came to be – and what compelled someone to plant the seed there in the first place and how it flourished.

His outlook on life focused a lot on Taoism, and by the end of the conversation, he had also shown me his notebook, which carried not only notes, but also doodles and photos, collected over time and seemed to feature messages from what I figure were people he met randomly, just like today’s meeting. He also wrote me a note, and then further decided to draw a diagram on the flipside that would be a moral compass that I could use. It was a simple circle divided into quarters, split into Thinking, Feeling, Intuition and Sensation, of which two quarters were categorised as Light and two were Dark, and the goal is to be right in the centre, balanced between light and darkness. He demonstrated the use of this compass by asking me which categories my reaction fell into, if he said he was going to pinch me. I responded that it invoked the sensation of pinch, and thinking about his proposed action, and this combination apparently falls into the light quarter. How interesting!

While I usually have a habit of disagreeing with other people’s philosophies (that’s just how my own outlook treats other people’s ideals), I found this particular interaction incredibly enlightening and not at all something that I naturally wanted to reject (though I had no intention of adopting it for myself). What started out as me being a solo cafe nerd turned into a very intellectual and meaningful conversation which was pretty cool!

Here’s some pictures of this wonderful camera:

And here’s the photo that started this all:

The entire interaction spanned about an hour, and he was a thoroughly fascinating character, especially since no one these days carries all this anymore (as in, yes, you’ll often find the odd cafe goer who will carry some of these, but not all of the following):

• Pen
• Mechanical pencil
• Unmarked ruler
• A book on psychic energy
• Leatherbound diary
• Notepad
• 60+ year old film camera with handmade leather strap
• Photos developed from film
• Used to carry a compass for drawing circles, but not anymore (ok so this last thing isn’t something he physically had, but he mentioned it, so sure I’ll note it here)

All throughout this, I was trying to profile him under a definition that I would be able to make sense of, but I think he will be his own unique person for now. His philosophy and genuine appreciation for the old fashioned meant that I didn’t regard him as a hipster, but he wasn’t so narrow-viewed that I’d class him as a hippie, either. He wasn’t a snob or a coffee snob, he seemed to just be experiencing life as it is, in search of the discovery of himself. I think my last attempted mental classification of him was one of a “spiritual hipster” so I’ll go with that for now.

Hooray for serendipity!