Oniria Café / Coffee is the bridge

cyclespeak
More or less?

Jannik and Nora [simultaneously]
Less.

cyclespeak
Does that apply to everything?

Nora
Not love [laughs].

A stone’s throw from Girona’s Plaça de la lndependència, look through the glass doors to the warmly lit interior of Oniria Café and you will recognise all the usual paraphernalia of a city centre coffee shop: countertop, espresso machine, bagged beans on display. On entering, what next becomes immediately evident is the warm welcome served up by co-owners Nora Salvat and Jannik Schäfer with every cup of specialty coffee—a passionate approach to their profession fuelled by indomitable energy and a truly empathetic nature.

In an extended and candid conversation, Nora and Jannik offer up a glimpse into their life together—discussing the origins of Oniria, how they both seek to balance busy lives and why, ultimately, theirs is a love story rooted in a very special locale.

cyclespeak
How was your day?

Jannik
Good. The usual ups and downs.

[Nora laughing]

cyclespeak
Can we start by talking about your individual backgrounds and how they led to Oniria?

Nora
Me?

Jannik
You first [laughs].

Nora
Since I was very young, I’ve always seen myself as an artist. But I could never stick to just that one discipline so I decided to broaden my horizons and visit Australia when I was 19—the farthest place I could go without heading back home. And while I was there, I worked in hospitality and that was the first time I really understood what a barista was and what specialty coffee meant.

cyclespeak
That obviously had an impact?

Nora
It was like a mental click. And when I returned home to Girona, I started working at Espresso Mafia.

cyclespeak
Beginning your own coffee journey?

Nora
At that time, the Espresso Mafia concept was really difficult for some Catalan people to understand—they thought it was very expensive. But I’ve always liked things that are new and different and I loved working there. I practised my latte art – doing it nice – and I also valued the everyday contact I had with our customers.

cyclespeak
And Jannik?

Jannik
I’ll do the short version.

[Nora laughs]

Jannik
I’ve been interested in coffee for seven and a half years now. Alongside my normal work, I helped a friend build his own shop and did a few coffee events. 

cyclespeak
Just out of curiosity, what was your normal work?

Jannik
That’s an interesting question.

[Nora laughs]

Jannik
After studying international business and enterprise at university, I would say I’ve specialised in entrepreneurship. So when people ask how I ended up making coffee in Girona, I explain that the city is very international and our shop is a business [smiles].

cyclespeak
You’re partners in both life and work, so can I ask how you met? Those first impressions that led to your story as a couple?

Nora
While I was still working at Espresso Mafia, this new shop – Eat, Sleep, Cycle – was having an opening party. I was having fun and then went outside to get some air and saw this man. He was looking very nice and elegant—different from your average Catalan guy. And because I’m very impulsive, I just walked up to him and started talking. Straight away, I saw something in him that I really liked but at the end of the evening we just went our separate ways.

cyclespeak
That’s a nice memory.

Nora
He stayed here for three months – taking some time off from Germany – and I kept seeing him at Espresso Mafia. He wasn’t available at that particular moment but I knew we had a connection. It just wasn’t the right time.

cyclespeak
So what happened to change that?

Nora
The day we spoke the most was the day he returned to Germany. He came back a year later but over all that time I had him in my mind. And the first person he saw when he did come back was me. It was a very beautiful moment and this time he was available. And we smiled because we both knew something might happen.

cyclespeak
Jannik, that was quite an impression you made?

Jannik
It does sound that way [laughs].

cyclespeak
So what’s your take on first seeing Nora?

Jannik
I’d temporarily left behind life in Germany and just fell in love with Girona’s energy, culture and surroundings. But because this was a contemplative time for myself, I kept changing my mind whether I should attend the opening party at Eat, Sleep, Cycle. In the end I didn’t stay long but I stayed long enough [smiles].

cyclespeak
That’s a nice way of putting it.

Jannik
It was a difficult time for me. I was struggling with depression so wasn’t really available for friends – new or old – or even for myself. But Girona proved the catalyst for the internal development I needed and when I returned a year later, I was walking over the stone bridge in the centre of town when I bumped into Nora.

cyclespeak
You were fated to meet again [smiles].

Nora
Yes, just like that.

cyclespeak
You both grew up in quite different cultures and I was wondering whether, at that time, your friends and family were surprised at your mutual attraction?

Jannik
I was recently talking about this to my family and it turns out they weren’t surprised at all. They knew I wouldn’t make a life for myself in Germany.

cyclespeak
In England we say a square peg in a round hole. And just because you grow up with certain cultural values doesn’t necessarily mean you have a sense of belonging. And it can take a geographical or emotional removal to find this.

Jannik
I feel more connected to Girona than where I grew up. Like I belong.

Nora
I hope [laughs].

cyclespeak
So what language do you speak at home?

Nora
Spanish.

Jannik
The first week was English but it just didn’t feel like the right connection.

cyclespeak
You appear to have moved towards Nora in terms of locality, culture, language?

Jannik
We did both move to Germany to see how it felt living there. But we knew pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to work.

Nora
It was really difficult living in Germany. So I’m happy that Jannik enjoys living in Girona—that he feels free to be his true self.

cyclespeak
And now you have Oniria but I’ve been struggling to find out what it means. I even tried Google Translate but with no luck. So can you tell me the story?

Jannik
I have a quick description before Nora explains it better than me.

[Nora laughs]

Jannik
It comes from the word oneiric which I interpret as the world behind closed eyes. That moment between a waking and dreaming state.

Nora
It represents what I like to paint—the surrealist landscapes that I portray. A world of dreams but also a place where anything is possible. It might not make sense – it doesn’t have to reflect real life – but it can offer a different way of living and being.

cyclespeak
Were these concepts and visions always going to be rooted in a coffee shop?

Nora
We have a lot of ideas – a lot of dreams – and we believe that Oniria is just the beginning. The first thing we built together.

cyclespeak
From the outside looking in, I find it difficult to imagine you ever standing still. That there’s a constant questioning and reimagining of the journey you’re both on.

Nora
Thinking about the future, we might have certain goals but then you meet someone, share ideas, and that can alter your pathway.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing you had to weather some challenges in launching your business?

Jannik
This wasn’t our first location—we started just around the corner in a friend’s shop so we didn’t have rent to pay and could breathe freely and see where this path would take us.

cyclespeak
But you had to contend with a worldwide pandemic?

Jannik
We quickly realised that it was more of an opportunity than a risk. We couldn’t leave the city because of the restrictions but it allowed us to really connect with the people in our immediate neighbourhood. But there are still challenges – the daily routine of running a business – which is why we don’t work on Sunday and Mondays. You need space for yourself.

Nora
We started very small and grew the business organically. And then our current location became empty and we managed to come to an arrangement. Our next step.

cyclespeak
Now that you’re established, can you talk about your customers and the connections you’ve made?

Jannik
We’re both very interested in the psychological aspects of our relationships with our customers. And we’re not so much serving coffee as openness—Oniria being 25 square metres of conversation. That’s naturally what happens here. And because I ask questions and have a talent for remembering names…

[Nora laughs and nods]

…90% of the people that visit frequently, I know something about them. It’s what drives me—that we can provide a space that is free from any kind of judgement. You can be who you are and feel at home. As if Oniria is an extension of our living room.

cyclespeak
And for you, Nora?

Nora
What I’ve discovered is that listening to what people have to say is a very powerful thing. Because people don’t always have that in their lives or maybe they find it difficult to open up emotionally. And Oniria is a space where these things become possibilities.

cyclespeak
Do you think the same environment, the same impact, would be possible if Oniria was a bigger space?

Nora
It would be a lot more difficult. 

Jannik
I think we could but only for limited hours. We both have finite energies and if we had a bigger shop and more customers, something would have to give. It needs to be a slow rather than fast environment.

Nora
And the next step might not be a coffee shop. Maybe something different.

cyclespeak
Sometimes things start small and have that magic ingredient. And that can be lost when you scale it?

Nora
It’s a decision that most businesses face at some point. When you have to choose between making more money or keeping to your original vision. But maybe it’s possible to do both?

Jannik
It’s about finding a sense of equilibrium and questioning whether you want more?

cyclespeak
I can see you’ve got some conversations ahead.

Jannik
Whatever happens, this shop will stay. The size and energy is just too good.

cyclespeak
You mentioned painting, Nora. Is this aspect of your life intertwined with Oniria? Or is it something you purposely keep separate?

Nora
That’s a good question. Because I’ve also been struggling with the same thoughts. 

cyclespeak
Have you found any answers?

Nora
On balance, I think these things should go together. Being an artist is me and Oniria is me. And painting is not something I do all the time. I paint when I feel inspired and everything aligns. But this takes time and, right now, I don’t have that much [laughs].

cyclespeak
Jannik, any hidden talents that I’m not aware of?

Jannik
That’s another very good question [smiles].

Nora
Many talents!!

cyclespeak
If Jannik is too modest, then maybe Nora should list them?

Jannik
It’s difficult to narrow it down because I like so many things. But actual talents? I did have this conversation once with a colleague and he said that my art is the way I approach and interact with people. Which I considered a very big compliment but maybe not a talent?

cyclespeak
Can I respectfully disagree? The ability to make a connection in a matter of seconds is a real gift. A talent that can mean so much to any individual in need of an empathetic ear.

Jannik
Well, for me, that’s good enough.

cyclespeak
Working together, is the line between the café and home blurred?

Jannik
In the beginning, when we’d just started, a little obsession grew that we had to be active on social media. I don’t feel that anymore and I think we’re both pretty aware when it’s time to disconnect.

Nora
We work a lot but we also have our days off and enjoy them as a couple or with friends. Some of these friends we made at Oniria so I suppose that’s a link with work but a nice one.

Jannik
There’s always a little part of life that’s related to work so you need to take control. And I have been guilty of prioritising others and not having enough energy to sustain myself. But this is the real challenge of being self-employed.

cyclespeak
Could Oniria exist elsewhere?

Jannik
It could work in different cities because it’s more about the experience than the physicality of the building. People need spaces where they can speak up, be open and authentic. It’s what we often say—coffee is the bridge.

Cyclespeak
And Girona?

Jannik
The setting is just perfect and both Nora and I feel this sense of connection. Very much our feet on the ground.

Nora
We both know that we have to be here. It’s our place.

cyclespeak
And as your place is a coffee shop, can I ask what you would order?

Nora
I always have a flat white. With oat milk.

Jannik
For me, it depends on the day but I’d rather go filter coffee if I can.

cyclespeak
And after a busy day, is it home cooked food or going out to eat?

Nora
We do both a lot [laughs]. We love cooking – very healthy usually – but we also love to eat out. The environment and energy of somewhere else and having people serve us is a welcome change from Oniria.

cyclespeak
Together as a team, you’ve worked so hard to create this special space. Can you describe each other in three words?

Nora
For me, I would say Jannik is brave. Very brave. And a perfectionist. And very empathetic.

cyclespeak
Jannik?

Jannik [looking at Nora]
Beautiful. Creative. And emotionally intense. Is that three or four? But definitely, always, beautiful.

Oniria Café / Nora

All photography with kind permission of The Service Course

Brazo de Hierro / Sundays are for?

“I now live slower. More time with family. More time with my friends.”

Albert Gallego is a freelance photographer working under the pseudonym Brazo de Hierro [loosely translating as Iron Arm]. Based between Barcelona and Girona, his beautiful imagery depicts riders leaning into landscapes filtered through meteorological layers of cloud and dust with sharp shadows marking the progress of the sun. Sitting in his study – the walls covered by framed artworks and with a view of Montserrat from his window – Albert discusses his picture-taking beginnings, trips to the market and what it now means to be happy.


I started using the name Brazo de Hierro a long time ago after I’d broken my left humerus in an accident at work. A  friend drew a picture of the broken bone and then added ‘Brazo de Hierro’ so I asked if I could use it as my graffiti nickname. Often we would paint in disused factories and because graffiti is very impermanent, I began using a camera to capture the artwork. The more pictures I took, the greater my interest and because graffiti has links with hip hop, I was doing portraits of singers and this led to editorial work for advertising companies. By that time I’d moved to Barcelona which was where I first saw the Red Hook Crit races.

I was already aware of the West Coast bike messenger scene but fixed-gear bikes were new to the city. And to me, they just seemed the purest way of riding a bike—one gear, no brakes and moving in and around the cars. I started riding fixed with my friends and over time they gradually got into road, gravel and mountain biking. So I was learning more about the different types of cycling and all the time taking photos. Since then, I haven’t stopped and it’s fair to say that photography is both passion and profession.

Spring and summer is when the weather is better but, for me, they’re not always the best seasons for shooting. Winter is cold with rain and snow and all these things can make an image more epic. But autumn is my favourite time with the colours of the trees and the ground covered with leaves.

Sometimes the most important thing is to scout where you will be shooting next. And riding is my way of doing this. When I have some free time, I go out on my bike to find new locations and the next time I have a shoot I can remember those places.  And because I’ve been taking photos for 20 years, my eye is trained to read the light and to know how the sun will move and where the shadows will lie. This is the formula that I use which is why I talk about being in the right moment at the right time. The first prize I ever won for my photography was for an image taken on an iPhone. For another prize – in the Mark Gunter awards – I was using a borrowed camera remotely over video calls during the strict Spanish lockdown. It’s your eye that takes the photograph—the camera is just the tool that you use.

My dog Atlas is a really nice assistant. Every morning we go for a walk together and sometimes he rides with me in my backpack. Whenever I can, he comes along on the shoot and if I’m ever away travelling for work, when I get home he goes crazy. I love that moment.

I still enjoy using film cameras and have a large collection. I like how you have to think the photo and we’ve all come from film so maybe it helps to know the history and to understand how the process works. For my digital shooting, I’m thinking it’s time to move to mirrorless. It’s the future and I predict that in a few years DSLR cameras will be obsolete. But if I take this step, I will also have to change my computer because the file sizes are bigger and you need more power to process the images. 

Many people ask if I also do video but I say, no, I’m a photographer. I’ll post videos on social media because my phone makes it so easy but if you want professional video, then I think you should go and ask a professional videographer. I have a lot of filmmaker friends and I’m always happy to connect them with a client. In English they say ‘Jack of all trades and master of none’ and it took me more than ten years before I was happy to call myself a photographer.

When it comes to social media, I don’t really show that much of my life. My Instagram is mainly pictures of Atlas, my riding and the photos I’ve taken. When I go to dinner with friends or visit my parents, I don’t need to show this because it’s my moment and I have the memories in my head. Last month I posted a video that showed my face and it felt strange because I’ve always enjoyed being anonymous. It’s nice to go to a place and not have anyone recognise you.

Before lockdown, cooking for me was a chore. It was difficult to find the time and I would buy things to make a quick meal. But when we were told to stay at home, I really got into cooking and now it’s my zen moment. I wake up in the morning and take my time making my filter coffee. And when I want to eat lunch or dinner, I don’t go to a supermarket. I prefer the street market because all the produce is from the local area. It costs a little more but I have the feeling that I’m helping the farming community. I ride to the market on my Brompton – sometimes with Atlas – and carry cloth bags so I don’t have to use plastic. The people know me as ‘the guy with the bike’ and it’s something that I really enjoy. All my life, the fruit and vegetables that we ate as a family we grew ourselves. So it feels good to buy what I need locally.

Back in 2015 I had a really bad crash on my fixed-gear bike. I was hit by a bus in Barcelona [Albert pulls a bike frame down off the wall and points to a deep indent on the top tube] and this is where my knee hit the frame. I flew over the bars and broke four ribs and my collar bone. And because I wasn’t wearing a helmet, I had a large contusion on my head and the bleeding on my brain forced the doctors to induce a coma for 24 hours. All this trauma had a massive impact on my life at that time. I’d been working in a shared office space with many creative people – a full gas lifestyle – and in a matter of a few moments, this all changed. But the bones healed, the bleeding stopped and I decided to live my life in another way. So now, if you want to be angry with me, you need to understand that I won’t be angry in return. I haven’t got room in my life for any negativity. I say okay, goodbye! 

Which brings me to what Sundays are for. This series of photos on my Instagram feed started when I was riding my gravel bike and didn’t want to spend precious time positioning my bike carefully up against a wall or a tree. I would just leave the bike on the path or trail and take a picture. A friend of mine suggested I make a hashtag and every Sunday I posted one of these images. Even during lockdown, when we couldn’t ride outside, I took a shot of my bike on the floor next to my rollers. So it grew from there and now I have professional cyclists giving me their bikes so I can photograph them on the ground. And it’s funny because when I first started this, my custom Belle Cycle was really new and I had people asking why I was leaving such a nice bike on the floor. They wanted to know if Enrico [Bellé] knew how I was treating his bike. And I’d tell them, yes, he knows and I’m always careful to have the drive side up. Now people from all over the world are using the hashtag. It’s crazy!

All these different threads have combined with the lessons I learnt in lockdown to make me appreciate the need to find balance in my life. Rather than just sitting in front of a screen – work, work, work – I now understand the importance of taking time out for me. To go for a walk, to play with Atlas, to meet friends for a coffee and a chat. And I feel very fortunate – like a rich person – when I go out on my gravel bike. Even if it’s only for an hour; riding without a route and getting lost acts as my therapy and I always come home happy.

Brazo de Hierro

brazodehierro.com

Feature image by Kike Kiks

#allbikesonthefloor

CHPT3 x Vielo / Just add dirt

After years spent working in the cycling industry, Ian Hughes decided it was time to channel his knowledge and experience of distributing brands into developing his own. Together with son Trevor, the pair launched Vielo in 2017 with a shared desire to place honesty and integrity at the forefront of their conversations with customers.

First with a gravel offering before following up with road, what connects both bike models is the absence of a front derailleur—a dedicated 1x set-up that pairs the range of 12 and 13-speed group sets with a boutique approach to frame design that negates a requirement for two chainrings.

A conversation between Ian and CHPT3 founder David Millar added the next intriguing twist to the Vielo story with a limited-run of the V+1 gravel frame paired with mechanical Campagnolo and a unique paint design—a collaboration described here in their own words and culminating in three magical days of photography and film set against a backdrop of Girona’s finest gravel trails.


Ian
I knew David from back in my Scott days when he was riding the pro tour. He went off and did his thing with CHPT3 and I worked on launching Vielo. I’d heard that David was in London doing a commentary for ITV4 and I suggested we meet up so I could show him what we were doing with our bikes. He explained how he was looking to do a collaboration with a UK-based bike company to complement a dirt range of their apparel and this led us to discuss ideas for a gravel bike based on the V+1.

David
When I first saw the bikes, I just fell in love with the concept. Both Ian and Trevor come from mountain biking and they were approaching gravel from this point of view rather than a road cycling perspective.

I can appreciate steel bikes – Speedvagen and all that super hipster shit – but at heart I’m a pro bike racer and I like hardcore performance. And Vielo bikes are super edgy, multi-purpose and carbon.

So we began talking over the idea of CHPT3 doing a gravel bike—how it should be beautiful, fast and well-engineered. A stunning design with some mountain bike heritage but also doffing its cap to road. Once we had these founding principles agreed, we then thought about how we could give these beautifully engineered machines some personality.

Ian
We knew that Campagnolo were bringing out their 13-speed Ekar group set. And when it came to the CHPT3 bike, that had a nice link because David used to ride with Campag back in his pro tour days.

David
I got into bikes from BMXing in the 1980s and then mountain biking in the 90s. Michael Barry and I used to ride gravel around Girona on our race bikes. So we kind of hid a chuckle when gravel became a thing because we’d always done that.

We have three categories in our CHPT3 range: road, dirt and street. Road’s fast, dirt’s all purpose – it’s adventure, discovery, getting lost and then found – and street is flow and elegance. Fashion almost. But dirt is the one that’s most versatile and allows you to cross over between disciplines. You can’t go street to road or road to street. Put all this into a Venn diagram and dirt is the meeting point. The crazy place. A little bit fuck you.

So with Vielo, I was choosing a bike that fitted my style of dirt riding. And Campagnolo just made absolute sense. It’s the most mechanical thing that exists in cycling—a sense of realness, super tactile and you can feel the gear shift. And with the paint job, it was a case of just making every single bike individual. They look smart when they’re dirty and dirty when they’re smart.

Ian
We got this excited call from David after he’d visited his painter Eduard. They’d used the colour palette from the CHPT3 Dirt collection – sprayed randomly over the frame followed by a layer of black – and then Eduard was hand-sanding this outer coating to reveal the colours underneath. And the beauty of this paint scheme is that every bike is unique and we’re strictly limiting them to a run of 50.

David
This bike is very much grounded in Girona. I’ve been here for years and I see other peoples’ bikes and the trends that come and go. And the paint was my cheeky little rebellion against all of that. Anti-fashion, in a way. And then when you go and ride it; holy cow, it’s just incredible.

Ian
As a brand, we needed to do a ride photoshoot. Normally we would choose a UK location but Antonio who looks after all our graphic stuff suggested that we really ought to do this in Spain. After deciding on Girona because David is based there, we began drawing up a wish list of who we wanted to take with us and I’m looking at the numbers and thinking OMG. But both Trevor and I could see how it just made total sense and we set the wheels in motion.

We’d rented this lovely farmhouse so the whole crew could stay together. When we first arrived, a deadpan Chris [Auld] – after years of mixed experiences with accommodation on shoots – immediately commented that it was another shit place booked by the client. Our videographer Chad was loving it, as were Antonio and Claire from the agency The Traveller and the Bear. I’d already made the decision to step back and let them work their magic with the direction of the shoot and I loved the moments when both Chris and Chad showed us some of the content and I could see the excitement in their eyes.

Each evening we’d go back to the farmhouse, share some food and talk over the day—random things like Antonio getting his drone stuck up a tree and it taking us so long trying to retrieve it that the local police turned up to ask what we were doing.

David
CHPT3 is a soft goods company –  we make what people wear – so we normally partner with companies that legitimise our decision to also make hardware. One of the ways we do this is to work with partners that are super authentic and, for me, Vielo absolutely nails that brief. I love what Ian and Trevor are doing so much—it’s a proper collaboration. A mutual appreciation society.

CHPT3

Vielo

Location photography by Chris Auld / Paint shop photography by Sami Sauri