Willow tea room

 It was Rick's day to cook.

Let's go the Italian restaurant," he said.

In downtown Westport, Ireland, one restaurant was closed and the other wasn't opening for another 15 minutes.It was raining, not like in Argelès, which is still under water in many places, but enough to not want to stand around on the sidewalk and watch the men trim the town's Christmas tree.

"You said you wanted to try the Willow Tea Room," he said. We'd passed it and it was open.

I'm so glad that we didn't go to either of the Italian restaurants. The owner/waitress was friendly, but we've yet to run into an Irish person who wasn't.

She said she'd opened the place on a shoestring and many of the cups and china that made up the decorations were from the attic. One saucer was the same pattern that Rick had had when he was married to his first wife, but the beauty of the roses certainly overcame any negative memories.

 I had local blue cheese and caramel pears on a nut and treckle bread.  The salad couldn't have been fresher.

Loved the teapot clock that ticked away a more than pleasant lunch hour. A man came in and started chatting telling us not to miss the Galway Christmas Fair, or maybe it was market. Either way it wasn't to be missed.

Even the toilet showed what could be accomplished in decoration with little money and much imagination.

Rick can not cook anytime he wants.