Tea at Llyn Crafnant

We haven't been planning our walks much ahead, so our hikes and walks end up serendipitous. We discover detours and shortcut trails, chase the little icons for caves and waterfalls as they appear near our routes.

We've just hiked an hour into the hills, emerging to a country road lined with bracken and bluebells. A couple of cars crawl by on the single lane, but it's otherwise just birdsong and the bleating of sheep. We've barely seen anyone today.

As we pore over the map to choose our next trails, we notice a labeled icon for a tea shop down by the lake. We exchange a glance: really? Here?

It's shoulder season; even if there really is a tea shop, lots of places aren't open yet. But this is along our chosen route, so we might as well look.

Our luck is in: at the top of an angled driveway, there is a slate board: the cafe is open today.

Picnic tables sit empty in a garden overlooking the water. It's not exactly warm out, but the sun is shining. Inside the shop, the lights are off, but two older men seated at table reassure us, "the lady is around."

Sure enough, a blond woman in an embroidered white apron emerges from a little doorframe to stand behind the glass cabinet full of cakes. We order a slice each from the apricot-almond and the Eton mess, berries on top of cream. She pulls a teapot from the shelf, unhooks china cups from their hanging mismatched rows. She has written out the flavors of her herbal teas on bunting above it all.