The Crow House Barn Project - Welcome Back!

In my day job (as in "Don't give up the day job!"), I work in marketing and have done for so many years that nearly all marketing people that I come across weren't even born when I started. But some things, even amongst the plethora of demographic targeting and digital media options, don't change. One being the old adage: Your own customers are your best customers. Loosely, this means that it is easier and cheaper to sell more stuff to people who already buy your stuff because THEY LIKE YOU!

So right from the off, one of my aims for the Crow House Barn Project was to get as much repeat business as possible. In the world of bean-selling or sock-selling or the multitude of other items that folks buy in large and regular numbers, this is a no-brainer. In the new and exciting world of bnb in which we find ourselves, this is a bit more of a challenge. We are probably not in the 'impulse purchase' category and we have positioned ourselves at the mid-to-upper end of the bnb price range so probably quite a lot of thought and planning goes on before we get the email from either Airbnb or Booking.Com which heralds the "We got one!" shout (as in Ghostbusters, as previously explained).

I spoke to my guru in the Lake District about repeat business because she could actually write the definitive book on how to run a bnb and she confirmed my view that without harassing our lovely guests too much, we should try to persuade guests to make a repeat purchase i.e. come and stay at Crow House Barn again. Added to that, recommending us to their friends is also a very excellent idea so far as we are concerned.

We have now been up and running since June and we have welcomed some really delightful guests and, hopefully without being painful about it, kept in touch. But getting that gold-star returning guest has proved illusive until a couple of weeks ago when... like buses... we got two!

We have our brace of delightful Scottish gentlemen who are working locally from Monday to Friday and enjoy a cooked breakfast with us every morning (this is not good for my waistline, never mind their's - too much left-over fried bread and bacon!) and they are on week two - hurray! And then we had a really lovely couple a few weeks ago whose son will be living near here for the foreseeable and they are coming back later this month. More hurray!

In the meantime, we've enjoyed the company of a family from our own village (we never expected guests from a mere mile away!) whilst their house was being extended and cycling enthusiasts from Wales who came to watch the UCI World Championships in Harrogate last weekend. On Friday evening they cycled down to our village pub where we happened to be (surprise, surprise!) and friends who are also keen on cycling gasped in awe at their bikes - posh ones, not that we knew. Our guests later commented to our son that 'everyone seemed to know his parents' which goes to prove that more know the old fool than the old fool knows. Or maybe we spend too much time in the pub!

So going back to the marketing, the other thing I've been doing between work and biblical laundry (strictly Old Testament) is working on the website and we are nearly... nearly there. I can't really take too much credit because the amazing Oli did all the design, coding and images. I just wrote the words. But I am rather proud of it and I will be making an unseemly song and dance about it in due course ... and creating some excellent winter offers. Now back to the day job!

Crow House Barn Project - Hosting Virgins!

The other day, it popped up on my Facebook feed - I am a member of the Airbnb Hosts group - that a television company was looking for Airbnb hosts to take part in a television series. Hmmm...

Now that I wash, dry and iron copious amounts of Egyptian cotton bedlinen at least a couple of times a week, I do occasionally stand in front of daytime television with an iron in my hand. So the other day when all tennis was on television at anti-social times, this being the American hard-court swing, I watched Four in A Bed for the first time. I have been urged by my chums who find my new venture quite entertaining (well, they ask so I am assuming they are not just being polite) to sign up for this show which everyone else appears to have been watching for some time. Like Come Dine with Me which my beloved was asked to be in, I am absolutely not up for having folks poking about in my drawers, running their fingers along my skirtings and make comments about the state of my loo brush! So you will not be surprised to hear that I am not signing up for the new Airbnb programme although, let me assure you, my drawers are immaculate, my skirtings spotless and my loo brush in very excellent and hygienic condition!

On to an update of the life of a B and B host. Well, it's definitely different. We have lived on our own down this long, potholey lane, the far side of two cattle grids for 31 years. So far off the beaten track that we have only had one visit from the Jehovah's Witnesses who mistakenly thought that the lane would take them to Copgrove Hall and pots of loot! And now we share all this peace and quiet with other folks - and without exception, they have all been jolly nice!

Early lessons included not hanging out the washing in pyjamas (or less/worse) and not bellowing at the dog early in the morning - one of my children does a fine impression of me sounding like Margot Leadbetter https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-5Lp8v2t5A hollering at the dog which is probably not conducive to having a lie in on your holiday!

Then, of course, there's the question of 'how chummy should you be?' Generally, I try to hold myself in check - not gushing, just very welcoming. These folks are here for a holiday and not to see us. However, both my beloved and the dog are enthusiastic meeters and greeters and we've had several offers to take the dog home after a stay. This became a very attractive option when she came into season a couple of weeks ago and turned into an absolute tart over night. The object of her lust is small, black and belongs to lovely Lisa and Wayne at the Post Office. Cue multiple phone calls from strangers who read my number on her dog tag and managed to trap her somewhere between us and the centre of the village. Happily, this has now passed and she is back to normal rather than waving her nether regions at every dog she meets and tormenting poor Milton who was with us for a weekend with her dance of the seven veils!

Interestingly, there is no standard Crow House Barn guest. We've had folks from far flung places - Brazil, Canada, Poland and Hong Kong. We've had folks here for romantic weekends, work, Yorkshire Show, horse racing, walking and, latterly, foraging. Strangely, no cyclists yet though when the World Road Championships hits our neck of the woods in September that may all change. Our youngest guest (who loved the rubber ducks in the bathroom!) was 2 and half and our oldest guests were in their seventies. My beloved has done some fabulous cooked breakfasts and we've directed plenty of folks to our local pub, The Royal Oak in Burton Leonard. Others have gone more upmarket with The Ivy in Harrogate but we've also provided Cook meals to microwave and there has been many a barbecue.

So it has changed our lives, and we think for the good. We learnt some surprising stuff about folks but overall, the best thing of all is how generally delightful people are. Of course, it hasn't all been plain sailing...

When we first set ourselves up online, we did as the hosting site suggested and offered 'flexible' cancellation. One of our first bookings was for a week in August - yay! a whole week! The guest in question rang just outside the 'if you cancel you have to pay part of the reservation' window and did just that. Cancelled. Apologetic but nevertheless a significant and substantial booking lost with no come back.

Of course, we were only on this 'flexible' cancellation policy for a couple of weeks before my guru in the Lake District put me right and now we are better protected, but the damage was done. However, we managed to rebook four of the seven nights and in the interim, i.e. now, we have installed a log burning stove. This involved dealing with five years of jackdaw nests in the chimney but our excellent installers did a great job and they were filthy when they'd finished but the Barn was not! So we will now be open through the winter with a gorgeous fire to snuggle round after a lovely long walk across the countryside - or back from the pub!

So we will be open right through the year and we hope that some of our lovely guests come back and see us again. Fountains Abbey, just four miles away, is stunning in autumn and winter.

Darcy keeping her beady eye on the Intrepid Granny! 

The new log burner in all its glory! 

Our beautiful climbing rose, Madame Alfred Carriere, blooming for the second time this summer

Neighbours! 

Every bathroom should have one ... or five! 

The Crow House Barn Project

First, a little history…

Thirty one years ago, we (which, at that time, was my beloved, our two-year old daughter and I) bought a 17th century gamekeeper’s cottage surrounded by fields with a goodly smattering of semi-derelict outbuildings. Skip on a few years and there were six of us - my beloved and I and four children - plus dogs and cats and rabbits - and our cottage was bursting at the seams. Time to convert one of the outbuildings which could serve as a teenage dormitory.

The Barn was roofless and derelict but it had been a great place for dens and the trampoline for our children. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful building and somewhere (though we’ve never found it) there is a date stone which confirms its 17th century construction. It appears in an ancient book about the history of this area which is full of gems about the ruins of a flax mill just across the fields and the paths taken by local monks to St Mongah’s Well near the stream at the bottom of our field. 

So fifteen years ago we converted the Barn into a brilliant two-bedroom annexe for our older children with a stunning bathroom and big downstairs place for parties and play. 

Fast forward a few years and the children were all away pursuing careers somewhere that didn't involve living at home. The big bedrooms upstairs in the Barn were still full of the stuff the children didn’t need in their new adult lives. Downstairs was an office for my beloved and a dumping ground…for our stuff, for stuff belonging to any relatives who have moved (“Can you just look after this for now?”) never to be retrieved, and stuff belonging to family members who were no longer with us in any sense. 

And then, number 1 daughter (the one-time two year old who moved here with us thirty-one years ago) announced that she and her husband would like to have their forthcoming baby in God’s Own Country, rather than London. And they wanted to live in our Barn - as a proper home. 

So twelve months ago, a lot of the heavy lifting was done by number one (great with child, of course) and her husband and the barn became a habitable place and first home to my gorgeous grandson. And then after eight months, they moved out…

So, at last, my long-held ambition to turn the Barn into a bed and breakfast place could become a reality. But, like innocents abroad, we genuinely had no idea how hard it would be to get from ‘nice place for family to stay when they visit’ to a luxury somewhere with that real ‘wow’ factor. 

We started in earnest in February with floor sanding and varnishing. Floor sanding is not for the faint-hearted and with every floor - upstairs and down - needing the full treatment, and, not being in the first flush of youth, our joints took as much of a pounding as the floor! And in the course of the last few months, we have discovered that we can actually do all sorts of DIY projects ourselves - replace windows, fix pipes and even plaster ceilings - who knew! 

We’ve had lots of help and encouragement from family and friends and we appreciate that more than we can say. And friends who have come round and been asked to look with a critical eye, yes, we have taken your comments on board - very useful indeed! 

Our aim, right from the off, was to create a space that really does exceed expectation. We’ve stayed in enough hotels, bed and breakfasts and rental properties to have very high standards. Long ago, when we used to take our young family to Devon each summer, the aim was always to stay somewhere at least as nice as home. We didn’t often succeed, and, when we didn’t, there was always that disappointing sense of ‘it’ll do’. We hope to do better than that. 

So over the last four months, every bit of the barn has been painstakingly sanded, varnished, painted, plumbed, wired, glazed, washed, scrubbed, cleaned and dusted. We've got wi-fi, flat-screen tellies and sound systems. We've invested in an egg boiler which we've so enjoyed playing with in our own kitchen that we may have to buy another! The Egyptian cotton bedding nearly broke the bank and all sorts of 'small stuff' has been added to our endless list of 'to do' and 'to purchase'. And most of all, we try to look at everything thing from an outsider’s perspective. We hope we’ve succeeded. It turns out it is a lot harder than it looks to create something really good. 

We live in a beautiful place that has been a lovely home for our four children to grow up in. Now we’re ready to share. Please come! 

FOR INFORMATION: We're on Airbnb (put Burton Leonard into the search box). Or message me on Facebook or text 0793 036 3711 if you'd like to book direct. There's a website under construction and we'll be on Facebook and Instagram in due course. Phew! 

The Capital of the Rainbow Nation

I hate January! If this sunshine deprivation thing is real then I definitely have it! Whatever it is, the January blues get me nearly every year and this has undoubtedly been made worse by my longing to be in Melbourne at the Australian Open - because I've been and I know how marvellous it is. 

So my beloved, despite being beleaguered at work, booked for me and Number 4 to fly to Cape Town. Wow! I had expected him to book a winter sun cheapie but with airline points and accommodation from the lower/middle of the scale, we are off to the capital of the rainbow nation for a week. 

As we board, weaving our way between the flat beds of business class, Number 4 asks if on really long haul flights like to Australia and New Zealand everyone gets one of those. She looks very disappointed when I inform her that is not the case! But we're fine where we are and we snooze in peace on and off through the flight happily not accompanied by the Sheffield Wednesday fans who sang tunelessly but very loudly on our tube journey to Heathrow. 

All is good through customs at Cape Town and we're met by the transfer arranged from home. It's not far from the airport to Sea Point but it takes a good hour though the morning rush hour traffic. Our home for the week is the Hyde Hotel on London Road, a spit from the coast road it is exactly what is required. Big sitting room with kitchen area, bedroom and bathroom, plus rooftop pool area. Of course it's still only mid-morning and our rooms aren't ready so we shower and change in the changing room in the dessert-spoon sized gym area (we won't be bothering with that for the rest of the holiday, methinks) and head out to walk along the coast road boulevard. Watching the Atlantic waves crash against the rocks below makes me want to pinch myself. We're really here. 

Walk done, ice cream consumed and we can get into our rooms and therefore on to the sun deck where we have several badly-needed naps. I am covered in sun cream and constantly checking my child (I know, she's a grown up) and therefore do what the intrepid granny would call 'an auntie Gill' - ie fail to top up my sun cream and burn in various places whilst the child turns a gorgeous brown. Ho hum...

Our first night dinner is at a local eaterie in Sea Point, just a couple of streets away from the hotel and we sit outside watching the world go by and eating huge portions of tapas (note to self: even tapas comes in big sizes here - do not over order). Cape Town, we are ready to explore! 

Our plan for our first whole day is Table Mountain so the queen of Uber (mum, this is too difficult for you) rustles up some wheels and after a rapid breakfast, we are heading up towards the cable car station. Lovely uber driver drops us off and we check visibility at the peak. Zero. Big clouds. So kicking plan b into operation we hop on to the hop on, hop off bus and head back down the mountain. 

I love these buses, not least because my beloved was sooo reluctant to ever go on one ("I used to work for a coach travel company - why would I want to get on a bus?") and is now a complete convert. So this is the best way to see lots and make the most of the best bits and ... so that the commentary syncs with your actual location, they play appropriate music in between. Ha! An opportunity for me to listen to Toto's Africa which is one of my Desert Island Discs, just in case anyone is interested. And because we finish up going round the bus route one and a half times, we hear it twice - yay! 

Down the mountain to Camps Bay and we hop off for a coffee and to look for one of my beloved's all time favourite restaurants. When we came here 23 years ago - yes, number 4, you've been here before but you were 'inside' ie not born - I was mostly sick and lying down but I did make it to Blues in Camps Bay once, whilst my beloved went multiple times to eat divine seafood and gaze at the brilliant blue ocean. 

We walk along the front which is now super-developed and bustling and ...there is no Blues. Further investigation with a friendly waiter and Stanley (I'll explain about Stanley later) and it appears that a wealthy gent bought the whole block and got rid of all the competition by upping the rent. Blues is now a Hard Rock Cafe - shame. 

So we hop back on the bus and, accompanied by Toto, arrive at the V and A Waterfront. What a stunning development! We explore old warehouses filled with groovy market stalls and pop-up restaurants, we watch the boats ...and the people, listen to a steel band and talk to the basking seals who smell, well, fishy. Like Milton after he's eaten something inappropriate. 

A snack of pulled pork - yum - and we hop back on the bus and once we've hopped off for a quick explore of the centre of Cape Town we are back on the bus and heading for the cable car station at Table Mountain - again! 

We are in luck! The visibility from the top is now officially good and we take the lift to the cable car. Packed almost like sardines we race super-fast to the top with amazing views all the way up. I don't think I had any concept of how far you can stroll when you get to the top but every view is breath-taking and this is a must-see. 

Our HOHO bus delivers us back to our hotel and we turn ourselves around for a dinner back at the waterfront (which we get to still using our HOHO bus ticket - great value). What a lot we've packed into our first day proper! 

The only thing I booked back in Blighty before we set off was our trip to Robben Island so this morning is another early start as we are on the 9.00am ferry. I'm not a great sailor and we have to sit inside - again not a good option for me - but I had purchased sea sickness bands and they seem to work though number 4 says it's all in the mind! 

Once off the ferry, we are herded on to buses for a tour of the island. This takes 45 minutes but I can sum it up briefly as the following:

It was a lonesome place to live if you were a guard.

Hard labour in the quarries looked barbaric.

And once you were here, you weren't going anywhere. 

Also people come here to get married in the little church - weird!  Apparently this is because a life sentence genuinely meant a life sentence! Not sure my beloved and I would want to renew our vows here! 

The other piece of information which particularly stuck with me was how the political prisoners taught each other as the degrees of education of each individual varied so much from university professors to barely literate. 'Each one, teach one.' 

The tour of the prison is, of course, the highlight. We are escorted around the prison by a one-time political prisoner, Derek who was arrested aged 18 (on my 30th birthday, strangely enough) and spent part of his 5 year sentence here. The political prisoners were quite separate from the ordinary convicts and given that this prison was operational well into the '90s, the conditions were incredibly basic with segregation by race extending to how much food each prisoner was allowed. Native Africans getting less than other races. 

Derek takes us to the yard in Section D where Nelson Mandela was allowed a scant hour of exercise per day and then we walk past his cell. You can't fail to be moved by his extraordinary courage for he spent 18 years here in this tiny room thinking about how to change South Africa for the good and writing The Long Walk to Freedom. The rainbow nation we see on the streets of Cape Town is his vision. We see no evidence of bitterness between races and everywhere we go we are met with smiling faces.

We grab a quick lunch at the Waterfront which is both delicious and disastrous with the caramel sauce in my chicken wrap exploding unhelpfully into my hat (not on my head at this point, just saying) but happily once back at base it washes out. Quite attached to the hat as I bought it in Porto on an intrepid granny holiday. 

We have chosen one of Susan and Degsy's recommendations for dinner - the Chef's Warehouse and Canteen. Number 4,the  Ubermeister, gets us there and as we get out of the taxi we hear a shout: "Hey Caroline!" and it's friends and neighbours from our little village, Nick and Janeen! Thousands of miles away from home and we bump into them unplanned! We enjoy a great tapas dinner with them and their friends, Stanley and Patricia who both work in the restaurant trade in Cape Town. Patricia works at La Colombe and is surprised that we haven't heard of it. Back at base, I google it and it's just been voted the 6th best restaurant in the world - sorry Patricia! 

The next morning, Number 4 declares this a lying around day and we catch some rays from the sun deck until it gets too windy. Then we uber off to Camps Bay where, if we had thought it windy on the roof of our hotel, it's blowing a hoolie on the beach here. So we sit in one of the restaurants that isn't Blues and eat pizza looking at the best beach view in the world. Half an hour on the beach and we have been completely exfoliated by the sand and our hair is literally full of it. 

Number 4 has now taken control of not just the uber (still too difficult for me apparently) but also our restaurant choice. And she nails it with the Black Sheep which is quirky, friendly and the food is fabulous. It's also a great place to people-watch. Top marks and we book to come back on Saturday. 

The next morning is forecast to be even windier so though we start on the sundeck we have to retreat when our parasol is blown over, nearly taking my phone and my feet out in the process. Then fuelled up with a pizza which has way too much garlic on it, we trot down to the bus stop to get the other HOHO bus. While we wait for the right one to arrive, two American girls kindly give us their day tickets as they are heading to the airport. Result - free transportation! No Toto on this bus but it takes us through slow traffic to Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens which are absolutely stunning - don't miss the treetop walk. We could have spent the day here but it's way too hot, and besides Number 4 needs scones...and butter...and jam...and cream. No wonder she's such a fatty! 

Our evening date is dinner at Millers Thumb with dear friends, Degsy and Susan and Susan's mum Pauline. The menu here is simple: choose a fish or meat, choose how you'd like it cooked and what sauce you'd like - simples! Great food, wonderful company and lots of giggles. Love you guys! 

Today's main event is a visit to the Old Biscuit Mill in Woodstock (humming the tune but this is a different Woodstock!). As soon as we get within a quarter of a mile, the place is buzzing with make-shift car parks popping up everywhere and the traffic reduced to a crawl. Inside the gates there are a million stalls selling amazing street food, drinks, clothes, crafts, art and everything else you can think of. Various jazz bands play and the vibe is brilliant. It's obviously not just a tourist destination- it's a Saturday morning magnet for the local hipster generation. 

Nap time in the afternoon because we're out early to watch the Six Nations in a bar kindly sourced by Nick and Janeen. Seemingly at the same time last year, Six Nations spectators were few and far between in the Firemen's Arms but not so tonight. It's rammed! We are lucky to get a place at the bar with Nick and Janeen and pints of Stella and Guinness are the order of the day. Wow! What a match! It may not be Landsdowne Road but it's probably the next best place to watch the match. 

Dinner which we make by the skin of our teeth is back at the Black Sheep and we tuck into kudu and rabbit with a main course switcheroo half way through. We manage a pudding ...and more Spider Pig rose and then we're seriously stuffed.

Our last full day and we wake up to rain. Proper showers are forecast till lunchtime so we take a trip to the Springbok Experience where there is some very cute baby gear for a certain young man! Then we test our fitness and reaction speeds for the Boks team. I am completely rubbish at the reactions test but I've been picked for the Boks bench based on fitness which is not bad for my last day of being 62! The Experience itself is very much about not just the history of rugby in South Africa but how it helped to break down boundaries in the apartheid years. Very moving and some great pictures of Brian Habana, Francois Pienaar etc. 

Back at base we laze away the afternoon before setting out to Camps Bay for supper with our Salcombe friends John and Caroline and their chums. Lovely to catch up even if we had to travel half way across the world to do it! Suddenly it feels like our holiday is nearly at an end all too soon. 

Birthday! My first in nearly 40 years without my beloved. But a relaxing morning by the pool watching the paragliders sail down from Table Mountain over our heads and a late lunch go some way to making up for it! Starting out journey home now and 20 hours of travel for me. Let's hope it's a smooth trip - note to self: don't arrive at Heathrow in February in flip flops! 

What a happy, happy holiday with Number 4 and we have taken Cape Town to our hearts. We'll be back! 

Key facts: 

Best view: the top of Table Mountain, of course!

Favourite uber driver's name: Prosper though Admire comes close - can I change my children's names at this late stage? 

Best food: The Black Sheep with The Chef's Warehouse and Canteen coming a close second

Worst food: British Airways (I'm taking M&S sandwiches next time) though the garlic pizza we ate at the hotel proved to have repercussions! 

Best place to see the sunset: Camps Bay - though it's not the quietest! 

Best pub to watch rugby: The Fireman's Arms