TWIL #28: From Camouflage to Cappuccino
Every Sunday, I share a few of my learnings, reflections, and curiosities from the week. Things I stumbled upon, things I questioned, things that made me look twice. It’s not about being right or complete… it’s about noticing, wondering, and learning out loud.
Thanks for reading. I hope it sparks something for you too.
How three ugly cars hid the future
We were somewhere in that long stretch between “holiday mode” and “back to real life.” A 600-kilometre drive, half-asleep kids in the back, snacks dwindling, the kind of silence that hums along with the wheels and fills up with half-thoughts.
Then it caught my eye.
A BMW. But not a normal one. This thing was wrapped… covered nose to tail in some kind of chaotic black-and-white swirl. Like it had rolled straight out of a zebra-themed rave. Ugly, honestly. I muttered something about poor taste.

Then, from the back seat:
“Dad, that’s a prototype! It’s supposed to look like that!”

I turned, confused. “A what?”
“A prototype. They use that camo to hide new models before they’re released.”
He said it like it was obvious. Like this was common knowledge. For him, apparently, it was.
Turns out, those video shorts I usually roll my eyes at were actually useful for once. My son had seen a clip explaining it all: how car manufacturers wrap their test vehicles in strange patterns to hide design details during real-world testing. It's not just to make them ugly (mission accomplished). It’s to confuse both the human eye and camera lenses. The goal? Keep competitors, and curious onlookers, from figuring out what’s coming next.
And once we saw one, we saw three.

It was uncanny. Like the moment you learn a new word and then start hearing it everywhere. Suddenly the motorway felt like a secret runway, a place where the future sneaks past us disguised in plain sight.
That moment stayed with me. Not just because I learned something new, but because I was proud. Proud that my son had outspotted me. That something usually filed under “screen time” had actually sparked curiosity, not dulled it.
Another animal I never knew existed
I was just scrolling. You know the kind: late night, mildly guilty, brain in standby mode. Dog in sunglasses. Cake that looks like a shoe. Someone failing to get out of a hammock. And then… a leaf.

Just a leaf on a branch. Until it moved.
Not in the wind. It shifted like it was deciding to move.
It was a spider! WHAT!?! A spider that looks exactly like a leaf. Not sort of leafy. I mean full-on autumn leaf cosplay: veins, curled edges, brittle texture. So eerily perfect I thought it had to be AI-generated. A bit of clever digital nonsense.
Until I Googled it.

Turns out, it’s real. It is the leaf-mimicking spider from Australia. Evolution has apparently been out here doing top-tier creature design while I’ve been learning how to reset the Wi-Fi.
And the weirdest part? I’d never heard of it. Not in school. Not in nature docs. Not on any “10 Weirdest Animals” listicle. Just bam… leaf spider, hiding in plain sight.
Just when you think the world’s out of surprises. That there is no room for another BBC Earth series.Woah!
The Cappuccino that wasn’t Italian
During our holiday, we crossed into Italy for the day and had lunch at a small family restaurant. I ordered a cappuccino (yes, after 11) obviously. It was rich, foamy, perfect. Exactly what you’d expect in the land that invented it.
Except… they didn’t. That is what I discovered this week.
On the long drive back home, we listened to De Grote Podcastlas; a Dutch podcast where each episode explores a different country. We picked Austria.
And that’s when I learned: cappuccino is originally Austrian.
Back in 1700s Vienna, they drank a coffee called a Kapuziner; coffee mixed with milk until it matched the colour of Capuchin monks’ robes. The Italians later refined it into what we know today, but the name (and the idea) started up north.
So there I was… driving from Austria to Italy to sip an “Italian” coffee in Italy…
…while learning it was Austrian.
