This could so easily have been just another generic soft-play centre, but the owners have clearly put a lot of thought into making it stand out from the crowd.
I always feel slightly uncomfortable about members’ clubs and their keeping-out-the-riffraff vibes, so this felt like a nice, inclusive alternative.
It goes without saying that anywhere where you have to surrender your toddler’s buggy and also they’re not allowed to touch anything is going to be a nightmare.
I would genuinely be more inclined to go if it was called Bertie and Boo’s Dystopian Nightmare (actually, that sounds awesome).
I can’t abide an ugly soft play centre, but if it’s tastefully appointed with a muted colour palette, clean lines and the odd kitschy add-on I’ll gladly climb aboard.
Thankfully our kids both love frolicking amongst the stuffed skins of deceased animals, so we were laughing here.
I’ve started to wonder how many other play cafes we’re missing out on because we haven’t happened to stumble across them on our way to something else.
Little Penguin opened back in January, in what was inarguably the worst moment to open a play cafe in the history of play cafes.
Being able to wander unobstructed by other humans without having to worry about losing toddlers in a sea of legs made it much less stressful.
It was a not-so-lovely THIRTY-SEVEN DEGREES on the day we visited, which is literally the same temperature as a living person’s insides.