Imagine this: a group of six foreigners, torn asunder by the sheer blunt force trauma of verbal abuse spewn from the lips of a shriveled worm running a cafe, now down to three (just to be clear, three of us did not die, just separated from it). We walk into this cafe with weary and heavy hearts, one of us (me) filled with venomous rage toward our treatment from the previous place. We are seated by several nice ladies in a clean, wonderful atmosphere. There is a fake fireplace near us making us warm. We order tea, coffee, scones, and cake. We sip it in the casual but welcoming atmosphere and my scathing bitterness melts away. I see some small items on sale to the side and to my surprise, the Eragon series are present among them. A true blast to the past.

The bathroom is very exquisite and has pink toilet paper. Sheek but not kitschy.