| The Tea Rooms... this parlour-style cafe
looks like a red-formica refugee camp for Pinter stage tramps...
The elderly male clientele seem to have been regulars for nigh
on half a century and the sense of lives solidified into defeat
is palpable... for the unprepared the lingering air of inertia,
lost souls and sleepy despair may be hard to stomach. For classic
cafes diehards however, the visceral display of raw, kitchen-sink
existence at the end of its tether will be a bracing return to
values |
