Some anecdotes from our time as managers of the lovely “Henry” guesthouse in Bath are just too good not to share with you. This is one of my favourites.

At the Henry our bedroom was below the railings that fronted the guesthouse, so we heard everything happening on the road. I eventually got quite used to it and managed to sleep most of the time. One night however, there was music blaring out for ages and I thought it would wake the guests. Guido, bless him, had somehow managed to sleep, so it was up to me to sort things out.

I got up and went up to the breakfast room in my dressing gown to look out the window, expecting to see a street party – nothing. Just then a slightly squiffy Scot, part of a wedding party, came down stairs. A bit embarrassed to be discovered in my dressing gown, I did not pay much attention to his ramblings at first. He said he would go out and find the party. That seemed quite a good idea, I thought, wishing  there was a bit more fabric in my robe. As the young man left the house though, I heard him promising to stop the noise for me. That prospect seemed more worrying than anything else so I scampered back downstairs, pulled on my tracksuit and went to sort out the noise makers myself.

Rebecca's wedding - Copia

Good job my hero was not wearing his highland dress that evening!


As soon as I shut the front door there was total silence! I looked up and down the street. Nothing. No one! I had a wander to the corner. Empty streets. I was mystified. The only movement was a car parked in front of the B&B with a rather familiar bottom sticking out, its owners head and shoulders inside the car. As I got closer I could hear a deep and somewhat slurred Scottish voice saying, ” and the music was crap anyway, you know! My landlady is very cross and you don’t want to upset her!”

Obviously I had appeared more formidable in my nightwear than I had assumed! Quite amused now, I peered into the car. Two swarthy looking thugs were reeling from the Scottish alcohol fumes, so I took advantage of that moment to thank my hero for his help and ask the thugs to move on. They informed me angrily that they would not, then reluctantly offered to turn the volume down. How they could have listened to the car music system at that volume and still have ears is beyond me but I bravely informed them that I did not care how long they parked outside my home but if I heard even one more beat I was calling the police. To my surprise that seemed to work and they turned the music off.

Then I led my huge, helpful hunk back into the guest house, reassured him that I would be ok and did not need a “wee dram” to steady my nerves, made sure he managed the stairs without falling over and finally went back to bed :)