Breakfast!
There's a world of difference between your first and second visits to a hotel or bed and breakfast. The first time you're all peeping 'round corners and feeling nervous about opening doors in case you walk in on somebody but the second time you can stroll around like John Wayne, tipping your hat and offering help to newbies.
Last night was my first stay at the B&B in Chippenham. Usually I sleep at Mark's but on this occasion his daughter was staying with him and, as a result, there was no room at the inn. Happily, the B&B is about 50 yards from his house, so it wasn't too much of a mission to get back after the red wine and cognac.
The B&B itself is lovely, and I slept well while the "weather bomb" extinguished itself outside. I woke up around half-seven, had a shower and set off to find breakfast. The landlady had shown me the previous evening when the navigation seemed quite straightforward but in the morning light, I felt a bit like Michael Palin in 'The Missionary'.
Eventually, I found a door that looked promising, turned the handle and opened the door. I nearly stepped straight back out and closed the door; the room was too small for a breakfast room and it only contained one table. However, that table was definitely set for breakfast. Five or six different boxes of cereal, a huge jug of orange juice, an enormous bowl of fruit. And a place setting for one.
"Morning! Tea or coffee?"
"Oh! Coffee, please. Is it OK if I sit down?"
*puzzled look* "Of course. Would you like the full English?"
"Oh. Er, yes, please."
I decided against the cereal but felt an immediate pressure to show some appreciation of the fresh fruit by having a bowlful. Which I did. When I'd finished, I realised I'd made only a tiny dent in the amount of fruit that had been prepared. I felt like I had been somehow ungrateful and, perhaps, dismissive, so I tucked in again and I was halfway through my second bowlful when the landlord brought through a large pot of fresh coffee.
My relief that he wasn't carrying a plate of food told me I was in trouble but the fruit was delicious and I carried on, washing it down with a mug of coffee. Fruit's filling, isn't it? I took a couple of deep breaths. Inevitably, the full English arrived, so I poured myself another coffee and set to.
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