La Serena's Grumpy Baristas and 18.7-Degree Dreams

just landed back from la serena feeling like i've been run over by a sleepy pelican. the air here? it's that 18.7 kind of sticky-cold that makes you question why you didn't bring a hoodie. humidity's doing its thing at 72% - feels like the city's exhaling onto your face constantly. pressure's holding steady at 1008 though, so at least the sky won't cave in while you're deciding between third-wave espresso and instant Nescafé.

if your caffeine buzz wears off, coquimbo's just a stone's throw away. and if you drive 30 minutes north, you'll hit some sleepy beach town where the only sound is waves and seagulls arguing over fries. honestly, that pressure reading of 1008? it's what i imagine the atmosphere would feel like after a big family dinner - heavy with unspoken opinions and second helpings of passive aggression.

heard through the grapevine that *el faro cafe has a barista who judges your order choices like they're moral failings. also caught wind that cafeteria central* serves coffee so strong it'll make your ancestors wake up in their graves. someone swore their cappuccino had foam so thick you could write a grocery list on it. then i went to la taza dorada and the owner just stared at me while i debated oat milk - like i'd asked him to perform open-heart surgery with a spork.

the locals here? they drink their espresso like it's a punishment. no fancy latte art, just pure undiluted darkness in a tiny cup. and the humidity? it's making my camera lens fog up like i'm trying to steam vegetables. but hey, this local food blog says the seafood market's got ceviche that'll make you forget all about bad barista vibes. just don't ask them about the ground pressure reading - they'll give you the side-eye that could curdle milk.