There's something about tea rooms

Individual tea rooms. 

We passed this one twice on Mondays when it was closed and marvelled at the decorator cakes in the window, promising ourselves we would go back when it was open.

Today, we went there for breakfast after the walk on the beach (see blog below).

Inside was a fire in the fireplace, mismatched table cloths, decorations for Christmas and soft music.

Two women, one in their early 60s, one in the late 40s I would guess, chatted intensely, alternately breaking into smiles, or leaning forward with serious expressions. They held their mugs in both hands near their mouths.

A man read his paper, his coffee forgotten.

A very elderly mother at another table handed her daughter a watch. The daughter reset the time and put it on her mother's wrist.

A man with a NY Yankees hat cleared the table after a man left.

The girl told us we ordered at the counter but she would bring it to the table. Her smile was as warm as the fire.

The bakery case held Santa Clause gingerbread men, cupcakes, a Christmas cake and other goodies.

As we waited for our Irish breakfasts we read through the Irish papers.

I love tea rooms, especially those that are one of a kind, that breed warmth and not just from the fireplace.