Queues and queues of folk in beige all wanting 'three lattes, four hot chocolates and two cappucinos'. One feckless soul preparing it all, thus huge backlog.
Shuffle with tray and variety of horrid stainless steel jugs and teapots to checkout, with said items sliding all over the place, risking giving their degree burns to all and sundry.
Shuffle to filthy sticky table.
Pay through the nose for the experience.
Totally shit.
This was Dunham Massey (NT) last week. I avoid any sort of café generally but dd wanted something hot and said she was happy to wait.
God, it is so depressing. And why do British folk have such an extraordinary fondness for sticky milky drinks?
Bleurgh.