Welcome to the twentieth (yes, really) Tea Room.
We find ourselves on a sun-kissed Greek island, where our whitewashed, blue-shuttered house nestles in the dappled shade of a gnarled old pine tree. In the olive grove, Mellors the gardener/handyman/factotum is tending the tea room menagerie of horses, camels, bison and guinea-pigs, recently joined by some recalcitrant old donkeys. The distressed chintz sofa, aga and cardboard cut-out of George Clooney have survived the relocation from the south of France and the aspidistra has pride of place on the mantelpiece.
Come in, put your feet up and join in the conversation. It may not make sense, but that's not important. What matters is the lovely people here and the chance simply to relax.