The Pro and Cons of Remote B&Bing

Mary says "Try Central London!"

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The Pro and Cons of  Remote B&Bing

I could write a book on all the reasons why not to run a Bed and Breakfast in the middle of nowhere (oh yes - I already have! It's called 'Dare BnB', and you'll find it on Amazon, a bargain at £10).

"We're going to put a shepherd's hut on top of the hill, where our guests can lie in their wood-fired hot tub and watch the sun set, while their horses graze around them," enthuses Daphne.

 I immediately pour cold water over my dearest friend's mad fantasy, as I do most of those stupid, idealistic, entrepreneurial ideas that people suggest to me.

 "What about electricity, plumbing, a lavatory, plugging in the hoover, getting bedlinen and toiletries up there on your Gator in the horizontal rain and mud, the horses poaching up the ground, insurance, and, worst of all, making a bed with three of its sides up against a wall?" I respond, a cross between sadness and exasperation.  "Who are you actually doing all this for - the punters? Or for you to have a really fun life?"

Since my first excited forays into the world of B&B ten years ago, I've learned a lot. I started off embracing children and dogs and practically anything else, providing breakfast in bed, in the garden, anywhere!  I'd do anything for my guests, short of flying them to the moon.

Since then I've regressed from 'child and dog friendly', to 'well behaved children, and dog tolerant', to 'no children and no dogs'. 

Because, during the summer, the punters will come anyway. 

But during the winter, they won't come at all. 

Which leads me on to horses. I researched equine B&B, anticipating that I might charge an exorbitant £50pn a horse. But then you have to think it through. Not that many people will bring them, and every time they do, I won't be able to use the barn for my own two. I'll have to keep everything immaculate, and any profits will get swallowed up by insurance. I'd also find my whole day taken up with parking trailers and discussing routes.

Why bother, when I can get undemanding, horseless dogless guests, and have the day to myself from 11.30am?

Make the maximum amount of money you can, as quickly, and easily, and in the most fun way possible, is my motto.

So my advice to you, is to buy your B&B in central London, where you can charge half as much again, and you'll be full all year round. Your guests will be out all day. And you'll have no animals causing mess, noise, nor any other angst to anyone else. Most often of all, to their owners.

I run the most luxurious, and highest rated  accommodation available on the high moor.  Yet I can still only charge £160pn for my very best, huge, deeply gorgeous, en-suite room. Double the cost of Neighbour's silly little Air BnB barn which opens directly onto an authentic, busy, smelly, untidy, noisy, farmyard. Yuck. Or the Forest Inn's purple and silver bedrooms up the road.

It's hardly surprising that today's typical cheapskate AirBnBers don't come to me anymore, and I've lost my SuperHost status as a result. The original AirBnB punter was adventurous and charming. What went wrong?

I now have to rely on Booking.com, which sends 10x more people, but most of them are foreigners, which means I can't have fun gossiping about people I discover I know in common with my lovely pukka guests.

Having said all this, the fact is that I absolutely just love running Wydemeet B&B.  So much so that I would do it for nothing! (don't tell my punters).  Because there is very little in this world more really, truly, absolutely wonderful to me, than people enjoying my beautiful home.

Which all means that whenever I'm tempted to wander off humming "Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, Going to the garden to eat worms", I simply check my reviews to be reminded that my guests seem to love me as much as I do them!

The one other upside to running a B&B in the high moor is that you have a great excuse to turn the central heating on during August.