In an ideal world, the Chelsea Cafe would be located not on the rather obvious Chelsea Road in the beautiful Georgian City of Bath, but at the top of Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu, a hill in southern New Zealand whose name translates as 'The summit where Tamatea, the man with big knees, the climber of mountains, the land-swallower who travelled about, played his nose flute to his loved one'. This is not in any way because the Chelsea Cafe should be as far away from Bath as possible, but is instead because I simply wanted a reason to mention the name of the hill and had no other context in which to do so.
It could be argued that the Chelsea Cafe thoroughly disappoints only in that it has absolutely nothing to do with anyone with big knees eating dirt and playing a penny-whistle through their nose. Just who would argue this I have no clue, but other than that, the Chelsea Cafe is a thoroughly pleasant little place to sip coffee and think about the price of spoons.
One can visit to chomp on what has been reported in these pages as one of the best breakfasts in Bath (available until 2.30), or one can visit simply to waste an hour or so and dribble coffee down the front of one's shirt. In my case, I visited because I was assisting a friend in buying a van. Since we were well aware that the Chelsea Cafe does not sell vans (... what with it being a coffee shop and all that, I write, somewhat stupidly) he and I visited to take advantage of the free Wi-Fi and continue with our research. As it happened, I also dribbled a mouthful of coffee down the front of my shirt and onto my shoe.
In my previous review of the Dandelion Bistro in Lulworth Cove I wrote (a somewhat misleading and fairly inaccurate term) of magic fish pixies and happy-go-lucky pizza goblins. In respect of the Chelsea Cafe, I would similarly be unsurprised to learn that the coffee is the concoction of a jolly blue wizard with beans from a troupe of fire-breathing roasting dragons. Of course, one may think I was simply being as dumb as a box of clogs, but this is in fact my way of describing with significant inadequacy how my cup of coffee really was one of the best I have ever had the pleasure to mix with my own drool. Served by a rather helpful chap, it made my hour-long visit very enjoyable indeed.
Decor-wise, the Chelsea Cafe made me feel very much as though I had been welcomed into an artist's studio because he or she valued my interpretation of what actually constitutes artistic merit. Without doubt, this particular artist would soon regret that welcome by realising that my interpretation was in fact worth less than half a bag of Monster Munch. But since it is not an artist's studio and such an interpretation was not requested anyway, this particular observation is once again as helpful to any reader of this review as two-fifths of a baboon. Suffice it to say then, that the Chelsea Cafe is clean and charming and a little quaint and blue. There is no carpet upon the floor, but rather than seeming just a little bit lazy, this is part and parcel of what makes the cafe far more interesting than a commercial coffee chain best suited to estate agents and other guzzlers of mochafrappachinos and muffins. You should go there soon... And I should probably learn to write better reviews. read more
