The shop is located deep inside an alley in Ogin-dong. Normal Cycle Coffee occupies the third floor of a small, triangular building that splits the road into two paths. The shop's sign is truly the ultimate version of minimalism. You won't find the ambiguous sandwich boards that trendy coffee shops often display outside. All there is, is a small plaque attached to a tiny door, like a nameplate. In fact, the "CCTV recording" sign is much more noticeable.
The opening hours are also hard to pin down. You have to arrive according to the times the owner announces daily on Instagram, or you'll make a wasted trip.
I had tried to come a couple of times before but couldn't make it due to conflicting schedules. This morning, I saw a notice that the shop would be open until 2:40 PM, and I rushed over. Winding up a narrow staircase brings you to the third floor. The second floor is an art studio.
The interior of the shop is unique. It's only about three pyeong (approx. 100 sq ft), a truly small space, yet it doesn't feel cramped. Perhaps it's because, despite being a proper third floor, it has an open, rooftop-like feel. If only the roof could be opened like a sports car, it would be a complete rooftop. The interior is square, but it somehow feels round. There are large and small windows along the walls. If you count the door, there are windows on every wall, which is a structure rarely seen anywhere.
Directly in front is the owner's space, where, upon closer inspection, a small roasting machine and its chimney are tucked away in a corner. It's surprising to see such a small machine. The owner mentioned that he moved in about ten years ago because the conditions—water, ventilation, gas, and so on—were all suitable for roasting.
The owner is a man of few words. He seemed gruff, but after a short conversation, I felt he was someone who enjoyed talking. Much like Inwangsan Mountain visible outside the window. If you don't speak to it, it says nothing. If you speak harshly, it returns harshly; if you speak gently, it returns gently. Here, coffee is for takeout only. According to the owner, while this has reduced sales and caused some misunderstandings, he believes it's the best way to sustain the business long-term.
Listening calmly, I understood and empathized. A coffee shop is a place where the owner's heart is expressed through coffee. If a customer agrees with that sentiment, they should visit; if not, they shouldn't.
The coffee is only drip, and the owner presents a memo with handwritten instructions, asking you to choose from three options. He said to pick whatever catches your eye. The word 'Wild!' on the memo particularly stood out to me. The beans are 'Ethiopia Mocha Sidamo Classic'.
The owner mentioned that not only the beans but also the entire process is completely handmade, which might result in a rougher taste. Somehow, I managed to have a sip of coffee in the shop. It's intense. And then, a subtly un-smooth sensation quietly washes over you, like the breath of a wild animal—exactly the taste described on the memo.
Through the right window, I could see the rocks of Inwangsan Mountain. There was nothing obstructing the view outside, making it feel open and refreshing. The breeze also came in nicely. I told the owner I wouldn't drink the coffee but would stay a little longer. I found myself briefly immersed in a feeling of relaxation, as if I were in a different space, a different world, like something out of a comic book.
I remained still for a moment. This is the power of space, I thought.
I told the owner I would come again and descended the winding stairs.
Right in front of the three-way intersection, a hanok childcare support center has been built. I'm sitting on its front porch, writing this. I could see Samsung General Building Materials and Sammi Interior directly opposite. Both are renovated hanoks, truly old buildings.
The sky was overcast with dark clouds. The sky felt low.
There aren't many places left in Seoul where people and the sky feel so close. Ogin-dong is one such place.
Oh, and in front of the shop, two gate pillars are embedded in the secondary road. One is on the road, and the other on the neighbor's property. These gate pillars have a long history, so I recommend looking up their story online before you visit.
And the dessert in the picture above is called 'Ukisima'. I bought it at An Jihye's Hideout in Euljiro. It's made from rice, and as An Jihye said, it paired wonderfully with coffee.