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.
I always feel slightly uncomfortable about members’ clubs and their keeping-out-the-riffraff vibes, so this felt like a nice, inclusive alternative.
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.
Actually the kids loved it, because why wouldn’t they? No one had tried to sell it to them as a brasserie and member-centric family wellness spa.
I went along with being made to feel like I was really lucky for being granted entry when really I just wanted to tell her to shove it up her bum.
Head to the Netherlands’ second-largest city for pancake cruises, giant dolls’ houses, inhabitable art installations and maritime fun.
One of those really rare places that knows how to satisfy both kids’ and adults’ needs and make parenting feel like – well, a picnic.