A tale of two teas

We were out walking twice last week and unusually, on each occasion we stopped at an eatery en route.

On Thursday, we covered about 10-11 miles from Thornton-le-Dale, along forest tracks to Low Dalby, then went by footpaths up and over the valley side into Howldale, to follow the dale into Pickering, and back to Thornton.

Although, as always, we had a flask and lunch with us, we decided to stop at the Purple Mountain cafe in Low Dalby, a business that seems to be associated with the cycle hire firm there.

Our £2.60 paid for two teabags in hot water in a dirty tea pot, which produced the most horrible brew I've tried in a long time. Add to that the presence of a cat that kept jumping on the table in an attempt to get at the milkjug, and I left feeling distinctly unimpressed.

On Sunday, we had just a short walk - four miles or so - from the Falcon Inn on the Scarborough-Whitby road, through forest and fields to The Grainary, a cafe at a farm that has diversified into offering lodgings and plant sales, then back along farm tracks and through forest.

This time, we splashed out on a toasted teacake each to accompany our pot of tea - a total of £4.40.

Of the three females front of house, two seemed to have taken advanced courses in miserableness. The first, older one stared right through me when we wandered in.

Signs directed visitors to order at "reception" or "the till" but as this location or locations was/were not evident, I asked a second female for directions.

She ignored me and walked on.

When I found the till/reception (which seemed to be the same spot) the second female quickly appeared and took my order.

The tables were shared around two gloomy rooms and a conservatory, all of which provided mind-numbing tuneless 1980s-style muzak as background annoyance, and an outdoor courtyard, which was music-free, but offered little protection from the drizzle.

We settled for the conservatory, which, we discovered too late, had the disadvantage of its juxtaposition to the toilet, the door to which offered little aural insulation from the activities associated with the facility.

Our tea, which was perfectly acceptable, was served quickly, but a 25-minute delay in providing two toasted teacakes seemed excessive, especially as patrons with rather more demanding orders, who arrived later, had been served.

When I broached this with the much more cheerful and pleasant girl who completed the complement of serving staff, she confessed to having seen two teacakes in the kitchen, and they were then brought promptly to our table.

Unfortunately, they were cold, thin, appeared to contain no more than half a dozen fragments of dried fruit each, and were spread with a yellowish substance of indeterminate origin.

I just couldn't be bothered to complain. In any event, I felt that I had gained sufficient compensation by way of entertainment from the establishment's promotional litertaure.

Pensioners, for example, may be far from overwhelmed by the announcement that if they book for dinner, bed and breakfast for at least two nights, they will qualify for a discount of 50p. This is, however, offset by a surcharge of 10% for anyone who indulges in the black art of booking online.

And they say the British know nothing about service.