I CAUTIOUSLY sip my freshly brewed Antong coffee, purchased enthusiastically that very morning. It is mellow, full-bodied and roasted, as it has always been since 1933, in a traditional wood-fired oven.

From the vantage point of my 12th floor hotel room window, the town rolls out at my feet like a playground. I can see the famed Lake Gardens in the distance, a muted deep green under a gloriously ominous bank of grey clouds.