The Moustache has a distinctly grown-up feel – it just happens to cater to grown ups who have children. And frankly, that’s the best kind of cafe I can think of.
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).
Play cafes are the eternal saviour of the sleep-deprived adult-in-charge-of-a-small-person, but sadly the pandemic has kissed goodbye to/coughed all over a hefty chunk of our favourites.
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.
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.
Hobbledown describes itself as an “adventure farm park”, but I feel like that almost downplays its brilliance.