When the ‘B’ really means breakfast.

The bed was too soft; there was no TV or WiFi; directions were ambiguous; no tea or coffee in the room, yet we had a kettle; and a host a little annoyed that we’d arrived during XFactor. What had we booked ourselves in for?

It was a gorgeous farmhouse B&B tucked away down a typical single car lane. Surrounded by rolling Somerset hills, empty milk churns, reconditioned water pumps, cute garden paths, and pretty country flowers. We arrive just as the early evening light allows us to make our way along the rocky pathway to the main house door – me in heels.

So far, not so good. We were led to our room and I was intrigued by all the homely trinkets and photographs along the way. Antique charm jumps out from every corner, every piece of furniture, and the low-lying ceiling beams….Oh, Mr  is a ChicFantastique is far too tall for one of the entrance-ways. Another 10 points off…

We are told we’ll be sharing the house with another couple who are also at a wedding, so we may see them at breakfast. And after a catalogue of errors and laughable moments, breakfast had better be good.

When we return for the night after an evening of wedding fun, there are tea bags and coffee on the tray and a little jar of milk. A nice cuppa before sleep…just what this tired couple need.

We wake to a drizzly morning, but the birds are singing, and the garden outside our first floor window is bursting with typical country colours. We make our way to the kitchen, and wonder what kind of greeting we’ll get from our host.

We think she’s been kidnapped and replaced in the night with a much more pleasant, welcoming host. Wow, what a difference. The kitchen is warm, and smells delicious with home-made cooking and baking, toast and bacon grilling on top of the Aga.The table is full of fresh berries, yoghurt, cereals, and jams made by the local WI. Just as the coffee arrives, so do our other house-guests. Because we were all sat at the same time we were forced to speak to each other beyond the ‘good morning’. Mr ChicFantastique is not known for his jovial morning talk – but he doesn’t do too badly. Our host who had been kidnapped in the night, had asked lots of questions about us before they arrived and was now reeling off information as though it was a business networking do.

When we travel away from London, we always book a B&B. The prospect of a cute farmhouse, home away from home comforts, and a fabulous home-made breakfast are too much to resist. One thing that is quite incredible to us, is that B&B rates aren’t cheap.

The trip out of London was long because it’s called Friday afternoon traffic – people getting home from a long week away from their families in some cases, or heading to the country for the weekend to escape the City.

A wedding brings everyone together, and we all wish the bride and groom the very best. Lots of great outfits for the girls, a freshly pressed suit for the boys, good food, cute wedding cupcakes, and the bride takes to the microphone and belts out a massive tune – Our next X-Factor contestant?

In deepest, prettiest Somerset we found ourselves staying at a stunning country farm estate. Advertised as a B&B, but really a large house with lots of big bedrooms with far too many doilies and tatty trinkets, and a host who’s truly inconvenienced by guests. But all is forgiven when the B in B&B turns out to be a simply fantastic ‘breakfast

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