We’d driven off the ferry at Dublin at 12 midday to begin our journey down to Ballinskelligs in South Kerry. After three hours in the car, I had back ache and craved something to eat and drink. We decided to stop at the nearest town, Abbeyfeale. The Coffee Pot looked old fashioned enough to attract our attention. Spotlessly clean (the café), we stood as two aliens in front of the fridge and pondered the wares. The difference between a café here in Ireland and one, say, in Eccles is that in Eccles you’d get a Costco cake, or a chocolate Brownie in a packet, made on a production line in Devon. In Ireland the woman serving you in the café is likely to have made all the cakes you see in front of you. The Coffee Pot’s cheesecake looked delicious, so I ordered us a slice each, with a tea and a coffee. We sat at the nearest booth and all our accoutrements were on our table, including the milk for our drinks. In Eccles you’d be up and down, first for cutlery, then for milk, then for serviettes then for something else you’d forgotten, usually a tea spoon or a sachet of ketchup. Café culture in Ireland caters for your every need; at your own table at the end of your own elbow. The cheesecake did not disappoint. I wolfed mine down and asked our waitress if she had made it, she said she had and I had no reason to disbelieve her. I also asked her if we were still in Limerick, she said we were. Just before we left I nipped to the loo.  They weren’t up to much but then that was hardly surprising as I had accidentally used the Gents.
A week later on our way back to Dublin, we stopped at The Coffee Pot again. I saw a lonesome piece of cheesecake in the same fridge we had stood before the week earlier. It had green mould on it.