I grew up in Sydney. Left Sydney, not for anywhere glamorous. Returned. Many things were exactly as I had left them. Like this place, when I lived in Leichhardt, I’d finish work, get off the bus a few stops early and stop in for a tea. The old guy running the place reminded me of my dad, thick accent. Slight frame. Man of few words, grumpy, but there was a kindness to him. I loved the little ornate teapots and the silence, when Sydney was becoming too much, the silence of this place was comforting.