I expected the eye of Sauron in Middle Earth. I did NOT expect it in my hometown of Lower Hutt, and especially not in the quiet suburb of Waiwhetū1 (pronounced ‘why-fe-too’2).
Alas, that’s exactly where I got it.
Cafe Infidelity and The Eye of Sauron in Aotearoa New Zealand
When I was a little boy, Friday night meant one thing, and one thing only:
Aotearoa New Zealand’s staple dish:
Fish and chips!
Which for me meant chips and a pineapple fritter from a local shop in Waiwhetū. We each got one thing with our chips, and I ah, wasn’t very creative.
That was 30 years ago, I like to think I’m more creative now.
Either way, I went back to Waiwhetū recently for mum’s funeral. Due to the nature of the event we had to rush back to Aotearoa from Japan and I didn’t have time to prepare my normal coffee setup. Which was fine and all because it’s Aotearoa. These days decent coffee can be had on pretty much any street corner, including on the street corner in Waiwhetū where we used to get fish and chips.
Or, to be precise, the exact shop.
You see, our old fish and chips shop is now Rascals Espresso Bar.
There’s probably something in that: the place we used to go for sustenance on a Friday night turned into a place we currently go to for sustenance every morning. And you know what? What with their album of the week, customers’ dogs’ photos on display, and umm.. coffee? it’s a definite upgrade!
If only rural Japan turned dead shops into cafes... I mean, if a small suburb like Waiwhetū can sustain two cafes side-by-side, anything is possible.
That’s right.
The lowly suburb of Waiwhetū is home to two cafes. Contrary to popular belief, the second cafe was not in a fish and chip shop, but it is close. A mere three doors down from Rascals and you will find elph. coffee.
Oh yeah, and the eye of Sauron.
My first day back here I just went to the closest cafe to our accommodation: elph.
And it was good.
Very good.
elph. is rather compact, but it has one special trick that makes it seem much larger: windows that open with a bench so you can lean over and people watch to your heart’s content.
However, this one feature means elph. seems to have attracted the wrong kind.
You know the type.
The resident older dude with his two-hour old coffee who by now is well and truly part of the furniture.
Yet perhaps the most impressive, and terrifying, part of his whole setup is the complete lack of a smartphone.
In 2026.
I know!
Zero interest in doom scrolling. Zero interest in pretending to look important, or cool for that matter.
Just pure, unadulterated people watching. Or people judging, am I right?
Everyone knows these old dudes are lowkey judging everyone like they own the place, but no one cares because they are old dudes lowkey judging everyone.
You know, the enlightened type. They have reached 100% main-character state of uncaring even a cat would be proud of.
I’m willing to bet you’ve seen a few. I certainly have. In the past year alone I’ve seen some in as far flung places as Australia, Ireland, and of course where I live in rural Japan.
In Japan they call them Ojisan, and their natural habitat is glued to a Starbucks table.
Anyway, little did I know, this guy at elph. wasn’t simply lowkey judging everyone…
Seeing as this is espresso country, I know I probably shouldn’t, but I ask the nice people of elph. whether they have filter coffee.
Negative.
Now, what with the stress of the past six months, I’ve um, put on a bit of weight. I’m trying to watch my weight by doing intermittent fasting. Filter coffee simultaneously tastes great, has zero calories, or thereabouts, and is easy on the stomach (unlike a shot of espresso, for example).
Alas, elph. doesn’t do filter coffee, so I bear that in mind and order a flat white instead. I hadn’t had one in quite a while, and my fast can wait another day.
Like, the next day.
I want to see if anywhere else nearby has filter coffee, AKA our old fish and chips shop turned espresso bar.
Problem is though, I have to walk past elph. to get to Rascals. I know full well if I get seen walking back with a coffee cup from another shop the guilt would kill me.
So, I do the old put-on-a-hat-and-keep-your-face-low trick as I walk past.
And I’m in luck. Maybe elph. haven’t opened up shop yet or something. Their windows aren’t open, and the old dude is nowhere to be seen.
I scurry past, enter Rascals Espresso Bar, and ask whether they have any filter coffee.
Affirmative!
I order one for myself, and a mocha for my wife, but the moment the words leave my mouth I get an unsettling feeling in my stomach.
‘Must be hunger from the first day of a fast. No biggie.’ I tell myself.
Idiot.
I pick up my order once it’s ready and head out the door. The moment I step outside, though, I notice the windows are slightly ajar, and through the gap a blazing red judgmental eye locks onto the coffee cups in my hands, before slowly moving up to the shocked look of pure horror on my face.
You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it:
The Eye of Sauron.
In Waiwhetū.
In the window of elph. no less.
You see, one does not simply walk past elph.
Now for the rest of my stay here I have to make like Frodo just to get my morning brew.
Thanks, Sauron.
Dickhead.
Daily Yamabushi Posts for September 4 to 10, 2026
Here are my Daily Yamabushi posts for the past week. Get more Daily Yamabushi posts at timbunting.com/daily-yamabushi. Discover more Japan essays and daily insights in the Kiwi Yamabushi Substack Archive, or follow my writing over on Medium.com.
Rather than clicking on these individually, you can just read all at once here.
For Japanese words I don’t put in the long vowel sounds. For Te Reo Māori I do.
Interestingly, whetū in Waiwhetū is Te Reo Māori for star. Wai means water. Waiwhetū refers to the reflection of the night sky in the water from Waiwhetū stream. Whetū is also a direct linguistic cognate of fetū, the Samoan/Polynesian word for star seen in Motufetū ("Star Island") from Moana 2.