A Clean Internet Cafe

I’ve used Internet cafes all over the world from Morocco to Istanbul and from Naples to the Gambia.

There are certain characteristics that they all share; cigarette and other smoke, filth, surly operators and crap machines.  Except possibly the one in Marrakech, which was kept spotless by a headscarfed and hennaed young lady of impeccable manners, who found it uncanny that my web site had pictures of me on it.

But this one, the Keystone Cafe, just up from King’s Cross Station has none of those nasty characteristics.  The machine is a bog-standard Dell and even my typing isn’t that bad.  Saying that I just hit the dreaded Windows key and got into a mess.