The Café was, as always, so wonderfully welcoming.
There is something rather special about a place where you are greeted not just with service, but with genuine warmth. The staff, a lovely mother and daughter, carried that gentle ease between them that makes you feel instantly at home.
My little companion was offered a biscuit without hesitation, which I felt spoke volumes about the kindness of the place.
As for me, I was served what I can only describe as the most perfect cortado. Smooth, balanced, and quietly comforting. Alongside it, a slice of carrot cake and a piece of shortbread… a delightful treat, and quite necessary, I believe, for any respectable Tea Rose outing.
It is in these small moments that one feels most content.
And then, just beyond, the kilns…
A quiet reminder that this village holds more than just its present charm. The history sits gently in the background, waiting to be noticed.
The kilns themselves date back to a time when the village was far more industrious than one might imagine today. Built in the 19th century, they were once used to fire bricks and tiles, shaping the very materials that built homes, shops, and pathways across the area. Clay gathered from the land, moulded by hand, then fired within those strong, enduring walls.
And yet, they are not forgotten.
Today, they have taken on a new kind of life. Within and around them, small businesses quietly thrive. Skincare rooms offering calm and care, tea being poured just as it should be, artists creating, vets tending, blinds being made, and careful hands grooming both cats and dogs. There are spaces for yoga, for movement, for bicycles to be repaired and workshops to hum gently with purpose.
It feels, in a way, exactly as it should be.
Still serving the village. Still supporting its people. Just in a softer, more modern rhythm.
One cannot help but feel grateful for places like these.
The Tea Rose 🌹
Recent Comments