Ein wahr gewordenes Märchen

Well I haven't a clue what it means, but I think whatever my latest lovely, kind review says, it must be nice, because as a result we've finally made it! We're in TripAdvisor's 'Dartmoor National Park B&Bs' Top 10!  Out of 183!  Hurray! At last! Thank you so very, very much everybody who has helped Wydemeet along in this journey!

The significance is enormous.  I am massively excited, not just because now I can preen myself at my brilliance as a B&B hostess.  It's mostly so that I can kick the expensive agents into touch, as well as simplifying and streamlining my booking process.

My goal is to run Wydemeet in the most efficient way possible, meanwhile skimping on nothing.

Booking.com, LateRooms etc all charge the B&B owner a commission of 15% plus VAT. By achieving a high placing on TripAdvisor I am anticipating that potential guests will in future take the trouble to visit this website, and hopefully to book through it direct.  

I use a company called 'Freetobook' to run the booking form on here, which means what it says on the tin.

The other upside is that by only using one system, I don't run the risk of a double-booking - just the worst nightmare for all concerned.

The downside, of course, is that in relying on TripAdvisor to do all my publicity and marketing for me free of charge, I could earn bad reviews, as well as good ones.  It's the same as using the media for your PR.  So that every time somebody comes to stay, it's a bit like taking an exam for me. This adds to the streess factor, but keeps me on my toes.  I must never allow myself to become complacent and get sloppy, or I could get into real trouble!

And I  do think that this new approach of everyone being reviewed all the time works well for both provider and guest, and standards are being continually raised as a result.

I'm taking a couple more efficiency-inducing punts too, just to make life more jolly for everyone around here.

This weekend, for instance, Wydemeet housed eleven people and two dogs.  You would never have known, as I tiptoed down three flights of stairs for a glass of water at 3 o'clock in the morning.  All was completely silent, save the contented snoring of one of guests, wafting gently through the bedroom door.

The three rooms were all booked out, as they were last weekend, next weekend and several more times over the summer.  

So that this weekend, Beloved Daughter and I slept in the attic in Revered Son's room, X slept in Beloved Daughter's room, and Revered Son (otherwise known as 'Tank'), and his delightful friend, (known as 'Little Man') both aged 15, slept outside in the teenagers' Den of Iniquity.  Once X's busy thriving office employing three people, 'The Bothy' is now a graffiti-ed haze of joss sticks, slouchy cushions, lava lamps and questionable posters of Kelly Brooks. All of us were sharing the downstairs cloakroom, which has no shower, and Beloved Daughter hadn't washed her lustrous golden locks since our last visit to the health club unimaginable weeks ago.

The end result was that, after a not brilliant night's sleep with Daughter in the next bed thrashing around scratching her eczma, and enormous spiders, disturbed from their peaceful slumber, landing with a loud thump by my head on the pillow,  I found that cooking three Eggs Royale, three Eggs Florentine, two poached eggs on muffins with smoked salmon but no hollandaise, and two full English breakfasts, all at once at 8.30am on a Sunday morning, while Claire Balding discussed her faith with Rhidian on Radio 2, just about did my head in, and made me sweat in a slightly unattractive way.

My answer has been today to book out Bellever for the whole summer, and only rent out the more expensive larger two rooms, Dartmeet and Hexworthy, for a minimum of two nights each.  

Bellever is my romantic little hideaway at the back of the house.  It has triple aspect views, so it's always bright and sunny whenever the sun deigns to show itself on bleak high Dartmoor, and a deep, deep bath with golden feet.  All this behind two double doors, so I can shut myself away from the horrors of the real world.  

I may not make as much money, but I plan to indulge myself in some of the luxury my guests enjoy, complete with professionally ironed 200 thread count Egyptian cotton bedlinen changed twice-weekly.

My other new idea is, in order to preserve the peace, my shiny mahogany dining table, and my carpets, I might restrict children to very well behaved ones aged over 12, and, reluctantly, say 'non' to dogs in future.  They keep eating poor little Twiglet. 

I wonder whether anyone will ever book again??