In Malta I spent three weeks at the Jean Paul Guesthouse in Bugibba before moving to an apartment. “The British” as in, “Did you have an enjoyable British breakfast?” and “The British come every year.” – were regular customers there. The guesthouse had a lively group . . . of British, and the times we hung out together were about storytelling, light drinking, and lots of laughs. Lilian and Salvo were the owners. She was the cook and he stayed, more or less, in the background mingling with customers and keeping the guests happy in his gracious way. They were good at what they did. Since that time, I’ve come to understand that a B&B is consuming in every possible way.
Lilian was an excellent cook, and the decision always was whether to stay at the B&B and enjoy her cooking, or go out. It’s so easy to travel around Malta, bus rides are pleasant in that one travels speedily in a rickety vehicle, talking to other tourists, who were mostly British or German – and a few friendly Maltese, while passing cities, and taking mental notes for future explorations.
Note: Lilian and Salvo eventually sold the B&B (the British will surely miss them); but, they needed a rest.
And it wasn’t so long ago when a friend of mine kept me informed of the goings on of a friend of hers who for years dreamt of having her very own B&B. She filled the commercial freezer in her Manhattan apartment with breads and scones, and all the foods that people enjoy when at a B&B. She was fine-tuning her cooking skills.
Then the time came for her dream to come true. She and her husband purchased a B&B for big bucks in a beautiful Cape Cod area. Within a year, the woman whose life-long dream was to own a B&B, was ready to throw in the towel. She said the guests at her B&B were too demanding. She was so busy catering to their every need that she didn’t have time to bake her own breads and scones – she sent someone to purchase them every mornIng. I suspect she should have opened a bakery instead of a B&B.
My daughters and I used to go to Avon-by-the Sea at the Jersey shore. We always went to the same B&B even though it went through three different owners in a short span of time. The B&B was in a big house close to the beach. The last owner grew up not far from the area, then moved to California and became a teacher. When she retired she wanted to realize her dream of owning a B&B. Does it have a familiar ring? She told us she’d been to 17 banks before getting the money to purchase. And that happened due to the kindness of a banker who gave her a few very, very important tips. She was a determined one. Her B&B was charming. In the hallway surrounding the rooms were bookcases filled with her favorite books. She designed comfortable and charming rooms in exactly the way you imagine a B&B room to be. She put a lot of love into her business. However, within a few years, she was gone. The last time we called to reserve a room, there was a new owner. The new owner said that the previous owner is okay; that was good to know. But, I wondered, what happened?
Of course, not all stories end with new ownership of a B&B every few years, but whether they do or not, does it matter? The important thing is that people found the wherewithal to follow their dreams. Sometimes you have to buy a B&B to get to where you’re going, it could be a path to something else in the form of a detour, an experience where an important skill is acquired along the way – a steppingstone to the real dream.
It’s all good. Right?