Five Years, One Brushstroke: A Journey of Travel, Coffee, and Friendship with Marcel Wagner
When Marcel Wagner published his body of work, a collection of coffee paintings spanning five years, it wasn’t merely a book of art. It was a journey, a narrative woven in sepia tones and quiet moments. Inspired by his story, I want to share our own chapter—a tale that began with a late arrival in Interlaken, a warm corner in a quiet hostel, and a bond that turned strangers into family.
A Serendipitous Encounter in Interlaken
It was early evening when my family—myself, Ayesha Shazad, my son Adil, and my daughters Shrooq and Ashjan—arrived in Interlaken, Switzerland. This was a long-held dream, but the journey from Paris had been exhausting. Flying in and navigating from the airport felt overwhelming. Looking back, the train via Lausanne might have been smoother, but dreams don’t always come wrapped in convenience.
We had booked beds in a simple hostel—no luxury, just a place to rest. Our hearts, though, were brimming with excitement. Switzerland was new territory, and we were unaware of its rhythm: after 5 PM, most places wind down, save for larger supermarkets or nightlife spots.
At the hostel, we were weary and hungry, ready to settle. In a quiet corner, a man sat, focused on something we didn’t notice at first. Then he looked up and said gently, “You’re late.”
We smiled and replied, “It’s our first experience.”
That man was Marcel Wagner, the hostel host and, as we would soon discover, a remarkable artist who practiced Kaffeemalerei—painting with coffee. But it wasn’t his art that struck us first; it was his warmth. Despite our modest booking for five beds, Marcel gave us the entire room. That simple gesture made us feel at home.
The Aroma of Connection
The next morning, the scent of fresh coffee filled the hostel. It wasn’t the sterile hum of a machine-brewed pot but something personal, rich, and full of heart. Marcel had prepared the breakfast buffet himself. We ate in the common hall, the quiet charm of the place seeping into our bones.
After breakfast, Marcel helped us plan our week. When we asked where to buy groceries, he gave us clear directions, and we stocked up on everything—flour, red wine, dry goods, fresh vegetables—in one go.
Back at the hostel, we started cooking: warm bread and red beans, following a traditional recipe that carried the weight of memories. The cold Swiss weather made the moment feel magical. As the aroma filled the air, other guests began to gather. Marcel joined them, curious, and asked, “What are you cooking?”
We smiled and said, “Words can’t explain. But you’re welcome to join.”
And he did.
A Bond Forged Over Lapis Lazuli
That evening became unforgettable. Marcel sat with us, a glass of wine in hand, as conversations flowed. He asked where we were from.
“Pakistan,” I said.
His eyes lit up. He spoke of lapis lazuli, the deep blue stone historically mined in Afghanistan and cherished across the region. His appreciation was genuine, and I smiled quietly. Part of our European journey had included a stop in Milan, Italy, a city tied to my family’s past. My late father had worked with gemstones there, and I was carrying a few small, polished pieces of lapis.
Without hesitation, I gifted one to Marcel.
His reaction—surprise and heartfelt gratitude—forged a connection that no language or cultural divide could break. From that moment, Marcel felt like family. And that feeling never faded.
Gifts Across Time and Borders
In 2014, when my daughter underwent surgery, Marcel sent us a coffee painting of our entire family—a gesture that touched us beyond words. Then, in 2024, when my son Adil married Aytaj, Marcel reached across borders once more, this time from Switzerland to Baku, Azerbaijan, with a hand-painted wedding portrait of the couple. It was a gift as precious as any jewel.
From that cold evening in Interlaken to today, our connection has only deepened. It began with a late arrival, a shared meal, and a piece of lapis, but it grew into something far greater: a bond of humanity, art, memory, and heart.
The Artist’s Soul
What I carry most from Marcel is this: even while running a hostel, his art never paused. It flowed naturally, like coffee in the morning. Being an artist, he showed us, doesn’t require a studio—just soul. Since those days, Marcel has held numerous exhibitions in Switzerland and Germany, but his work was alive in every moment, long before the galleries.
A Note to You
If you’ve ever had a moment, a memory, or a feeling you wish to hold forever, I encourage you to reach out to Marcel Sinlah Wagner. Let him turn your moment into a coffee sketch. Like that first cup in the morning, his art carries warmth, nostalgia, and something deeper.
It won’t just be a drawing. It will be a feeling.