After a five-hour hike up (and up and up) and around the streets of the walled city and the surrounding area, my husband and I were tired and desperate for somewhere to sit and rest, but we didn't want to deal with some tourist trap. He checked a map and found this place. Because there didn't seem to be many other options, I agreed.
Now, I'm not prone to exaggeration, and I admit that I was exhausted, but what we found felt nothing short of magical--a small, neighborhood place with a warm and welcoming owner who clearly takes tremendous pride in his business. For the next hour and a half or so, my husband and I enjoyed some perfectly brewed cafes con leche and sweet croissants as big as our heads. As we sat, the owner quietly went about cleaning up for the day--even wiping down the tops of all the light fixtures--and taking an occasional break to take care of other customers--clearly regulars--as they came in. Watching him work, I wasn't at all surprised to find the downstairs bathroom spotless.
Fortified by caffeine, sugar, and the owner's kindness, we paid our bill and left around 5:30. It wasn't until we walked out that I noticed the sign in the window with the cafe's posted hours: we had thought it closed at 6:00; it actually closed at 5:00. But the owner had never said a word, never made us feel rushed. Instead, when we were all done, he just thanked us for our business and sent us on our way with a smile. read more
