B&Bs vs Hotels: The Analysis in Your Life You've Been Missing

I’m in Belgium on business and, contrary to convention yet again, am staying in a bed and breakfast.  Most of us when we travel, and particularly business travelers, are conditioned to stay in hotels.  After all, you’ve got enough to worry about between finding your way around, meetings on top of meetings, presentations, figuring out new colleagues or customers, just being away from home and family and jet lag if you’re traveling across multiple time zones.  When you go to a Holiday Inn or a Hilton, you feel like that’s one thing you’ve got figured out: you know those places and don’t have to worry about anything.

Well, I think hotels are too boring and too much of a reminder that yeah, I’m a stranger in this place.  The latter feeling is particularly acute in foreign countries where you are constantly reminded you don’t belong there in every single situation you’re in.  Beds and breakfasts provide a unique opportunity to blend in with the landscape, to get a sense of where you are and feel a little bit less like a visitor.  Or at least, that you’re in a foreign place but at least in a place that feels like a little like home. 

Most people don’t agree with me and that’s fine.  But I’m here in the living room of one now with the British version of the reality show about celebrities learning to be professional divers dubbed in Dutch on the television being watched by the proprietor’s kids and, well, I feel like writing this.  It will also help me get my mind off a very good yet very bad work week. 

I’m going to use the old ‘Tale of the Tape’ gimmick that I did not invent but fits very well in this situation.  Let’s go, shall we?

Atmosphere

This isn’t even close.  B&Bs are almost always lived in by the owners with their own personal touches.  I’m looking right now at a platter full of little marzipan cupcakes, two stone Chinese warriors on the windowsill, a candelabra and a really old-looking chest of drawers.  There’s a hammock in the yard, the house looks like it survived World War II and my room feels like the cozy loft of a barn.  At a hotel, at least a chain hotel, it’s like eating a Big Mac at any McDonald’s: you know pretty much what you’re getting. 

Advantage: B&Bs

Rooms

I can’t grade this on personality so let’s go on functionality.  Hotels provide you with everything you need from consistently hot water, a nice-sized television, a reasonably-comfortable bed, a half-decent shower, tissues, more than one trash can, a chair to sit in, a clock, a phone, a place to put your suitcase, usually a desk and, if you’re in the US, an ironing board.  B&Bs usually skimp on those amenities, only making sure you have a bed, a bedside table, a place to hang your clothes and maybe a chair.  And only having one trashcan is annoying particularly because it’s usually in the bathroom.  Some B&Bs are better than others but the amenities aren’t reliable. 

Advantage: Hotels

Bed

It’s important to have a bed you can sink down into, that’s clean and doesn’t give you a backache.  I’ve slept in wonderful beds and horrible beds in both B&Bs and hotels. 

Advantage: Neither

Parking

Parking your car is usually your first impression of a place, particularly if you were a little stressed just trying to find it.  B&Bs aren’t going to have a nice-sized parking lot just because the number of rooms is very small but their parking lots can be cozy.  In Europe I’ve had to park in some very tight underground parking garages that drove me batty but a B&B’s parking might not be any better.  At this particular one my car is parked on the street, halfway on the curb and out where someone not paying close attention will smack right into it. 

Advantage: Even

Maid Service

Hotels have maids that clean your room EVERY SINGLE DAY.  They’re like psycho magical elves who force you to clean your room up and zip up your suitcase EVERY SINGLE DAY.  You return to your room in the evening knowing that SOMEONE HAS BEEN THERE WHILE YOU WERE OUT.  I also think it’s creepy to come back to the room to see my bed looking like I never slept in it.  “Wait, is this my room?  This bed doesn’t look slept in.  Oh wait, there’s my suitcase, all nice and zipped up and hopefully unmolested.”  B&Bs don’t have maid service and if they ever break into your room, you surely don’t know about it.  I revel in leaving the room messy.  Who wants to waste time cleaning their hotel room? 

Advantage: B&Bs

Other Guests

Hotels have tons of guests and you never know who is going to be your next door neighbor or running down the hall at 3am yelling and screaming.  B&Bs don’t have halls and I’ve never (no offense kids) stayed in one where there were kids there (that I can remember).  No contest.

Advantage: B&Bs

Irons

Am I the only person on Earth who needs to iron his clothes after they’ve been in my luggage?  Hotels either have irons in the room or available at the front desk.  Since there’s always someone at the front desk I can ask for it whenever I want, even after normal bedtime.  At this B&B, I had to use the ginormous iron in the family laundry room surrounded by stacks of clean and dirty clothes.  I ironed all my clothes at once so as to avoid having to ask to use it again. 

Advantage: Hotels

Service Level

Hotels usually have a 24-hour service desk.  B&Bs provide service by people who genuinely want to be around you (people don’t run B&Bs if they’re misanthropes).  Heck, I was just served tea by the 12 year-old daughter of the proprietor while I’m sitting here typing this.

Advantage: Even

Breakfast

B&Bs are, duh, well-known for breakfasts.  You’ll get local food served up by a true local.  The lady here runs to the bakery every morning to get fresh bread.  What you lack, however, is variety.  Hotels usually offer a generous buffet or at least one that is somewhat passable.  The best breakfasts I’ve had on the road have been in hotels but so have the worst ones.  B&Bs are consistent with a good, decent, local breakfast that hasn’t been sitting in a bin over a can of sterno for 30 minutes.

Advantage: B&Bs

Price

Let’s put it this way: when Jennifer and I stayed in Philadelphia we paid for a hotel downtown that featured a door that looked like someone had broken in once upon a time as well as 1am group conversations in the hallway from the members of the Robinson family reunion (at least, that’s what their t-shirts said).  For the same price, we could have had a B&B.  I’m paying 75 euros ($110) for this B&B which is at least $50 cheaper per night than the hotel most people in my company stay in.  Plus I don’t have to pay for parking. 

Advantage: B&Bs

Special Perks

Hotels have rewards programs which is nice.  Problem is that you have to stay in the hotels a lot to rack up points and use them.  B&Bs don’t have rewards programs but you get to easily meet other guests at breakfast (if you’re like me and sometimes like that sort of thing) as well as the proprietors, their kids and their pets.  And you can learn a lot of things about where you’re staying from the people running a B&B; you can’t just ask the front desk clerk at the Ibis Hotel whether the French-speaking people living on the Flanders (Flemish-speaking) side of the border do their grocery shopping in Flanders or not.  Plus I’ve never had a dog lick my hand in a hotel.

Advantage: B&Bs

Payment

Hotels are guaranteed to take any credit card you have and sometimes in foreign countries accept payments in US dollars.  Several B&Bs I’ve stayed in would only accept cash.

Advantage: Hotels

Do we even need to total this up?  B&Bs 6, Hotels 4.  Actually, that was closer than I thought.  Guess I need to alter my rating system to come up with the results I want, eh.

The Six Stages of Trip Preparation

I think the toughest part about a business trip isn’t the trip itself, it’s the preparation.  Not the packing, the mental preparation of being away from a loving family and the little things that make home home.  It doesn’t help that the reason for the trip is business, not pleasure, though actually pleasure makes it worse because you’re enjoying yourself while your family is back home, not enjoying it with you.  And of course, for Jennifer she is now the single mom with a slightly-rambunctious and independent three year-old boy, a 10-month old boy who still demands a ton of time and effort and a dog who is, for lack of a better word, a bit of an over-exuberant klutz. 

Seriously, mentally going on a trip is tougher than before.  I don’t know how people that ship off to Iraq, the fishing waters of Alaska, expatriate business assignments and other long-term stays do it, at least at the beginning.  Graham is at the age of understanding that I’m going getting on a plane, flying somewhere far away and not returning for a few days.  Also that he’ll probably get to watch more movies (i.e. Cars) while I’m gone.  But this also means that he wonders why he can’t come along.  Not that he wants to see Germany but that he wants to be with me.  Still, I prefer that to Trevor who has no  concept that I’m just away for a few days (seven) and will be coming back.  All he’s going to know is that Da-Da isn’t here.  Yeah, he has started referring to me as Da-Da, well, more like Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Da.  Hopefully Jennifer will inform me when I next call her that Trevor is as happy as ever and doesn’t seem to miss me.  Though maybe that will be a little sad too. 

Of course, I am getting to fly to Germany.  Not many people do and yet this is my third time to visit.  Granted, it’s for business and I’m not going to have much time to sightsee, but still, I’ll be there.  It’s easier to forget about life back home when you’re diving headlong into work (i.e. justifying your salary and the money the company shelled out to send you instead of just relying on phone conferences and e-mail) and getting a kick out of the culture and food.  Germany is just a cool place to be, at least, Munich is (I haven’t seen any other parts except the Frankfort airport).  The language is fun to try to speak, the food is excellent and even though it’s in Europe it’s familiar enough that an American doesn’t feel like a complete duck out of water as opposed to, say, Taiwan.  I’m thankful to have the job I have that allows Jennifer to stay at home with the kiddos and for the opportunity to travel but man, I can’t wait until the fam gets to come along (though I’m not looking forward to the price; my airfare is $2200 round-trip though it was booked only a few weeks in advance and in summer). 

Each trip seems to be the same regarding the days leading up to them as I go through the six distinct mental phases prior to the plane taking off:  Contained Excitement, Absence, Trepidation, Melancholy, Acceptance and Determination.  I’ve never written about them clearly before so let’s walk through them, shall we?

Contained Excitement – This begins once I realize I’m going on a trip and I have the dates.  Thus I can start the planning process of flights, hotels, ground transportation (rental cars, subways, taxis), scheduling meetings and finalizing my work objectives for the trip.  My company contracts with an outside vendor to book everything; it’s nice to have a partner-in-crime in the planning details, especially since our designated contact is a lady living in a seaside house on the coast of Maine.  There’s a bit of excitement in the planning details of figuring out the best flights (combination of cheapest and fewest connections, not always in that order).  The thought of flying on foreign airlines is always exciting and anyway, who doesn’t like planning a trip? 

Of course, it’s always trouble when I bring it up to Jennifer to confirm which dates are ok.  She always knows my travel priorities (rarely do trips pop up unannounced) but it’s still a little grating for her when I’m setting the dates for a trip.  I can’t contain my excitement, though I try to hide it, and she of course is thinking about what she’s going to do to keep herself sane while I’m gone.  Even if I did hide my excitement, I’m sure she’d still know it’s there.  But it’s not that I’m excited to be traveling abroad, away from housework, disciplining children or just to be able to eat out all the time; I’m just excited to be able to move forward and do my job better.  Usually my trips are made to get something done that I couldn’t in the office, or at least not efficiently from the office.  Well, maybe I’m a little excited also because I may be visiting a foreign culture or a new exotic place like Minneapolis in winter.  I do NOT get excited to be going somewhere that is either extremely boring for me (New Orleans, Miami) or someplace that I’ve been too enough that it’s not any fun anymore (Washington, DC [no offense, Aunt Ashes!], San Jose). 

Absence – The Absence phase is the phase after the planning is done but before I have to start getting really prepared.  It’s more out-of-sight, out-of-mind.  I try to plan my trips at least a month in advance so this phase may last as long as three weeks.  Oh, I still think about it every now and again due to a project or issue at work or just looking up at the sky, seeing thunderclouds and shuddering to think of having to fly in heavy turbulence.  But for the most part it’s out of my mind.

Trepidation – The Trepidation phase usually begins 3-5 days before the trip when I realize that man, I’m going up in a plane again.  By Trepidation I mean a slight bit of fear.  It’s not brought on by leaving my family or packing or whether I’ll be able to do a good job on the trip.  Oh no, it’s brought on by the fear of flying or, more accurately, turbulence.  Any long-time reader of this blog knows I hate bouncing planes.  Hate them.  I put up with them now but I still get sweaty palms and worry whenever the plane I’m in is ascending, descending or flying straight through clouds or any severe bit of turbulence.  When I look at the sky, my first thought during the Trepidation phase is not “Oh, what a lovely day” but rather “Oh man, all of those clouds are covering up the sun, I’ll bet everyone’s having a bumpy flight today.”  Seriously.  Not that I get the jitters to ever go up in a plane.  In fact, when I’m on my way to the airport in the Determination phase, I usually am not worried about the flight.  But 3-5 days before, I have plenty of time to think about it.

Melancholy – Melancholy sets in when not only do I think about turbulence but I realize I’m leaving my family AGAIN!  This usually happens 2-3 days before the trip right before I start doing the actual prep like buying snacks at H-E-B and thinking about packing.  The severity of this phase is directly proportional to the length of the trip, mainly because my US trips are usually no longer than 5 days while my international ones can be anywhere from 7-15.  I thus think a lot about missing Jennifer, the kids, the dog, the garden (this is especially acute in Apr-Jun and Sep-Oct), our house, the city of Austin, great weather (not applicable Jun-Aug), homemade and home-cooked food, frappuccinos, not having to be worried about whether the person I’m interacting with speaks English and sleeping in my own bed.  Sure, I’ll be back soon but I don’t think about that too much.  I try to make myself feel better by reminding myself how the trip will allow my company to be more compliant and thus for me to do a better job; it doesn’t help.  The best I can do is get distracted with other activities like pool parties with the extended family.

Acceptance – At some point, it sinks in that ‘Forget it, I’m going, it’s necessary and there’s nothing to be done about it.’  This is around the time I start prepping for the trip including packing (usually the last thing to be done) and all the household tasks that need to be done before I leave.  The household tasks are either a) inside projects and minor tasks I haven’t gotten to yet and b) lawn care.  For this particular trip, these tasks included neatening up the house (done), fixing the media center door Maisy Insaisy kicked and broke (not done), laundry (half-done), putting new sugar water in hummingbird feeders (done), giving the dog a bath (done), watering landscape shrubbery thoroughly so Jennifer won’t have to do it while I’m gone (done), water new trees (done), set up garden with soaker hoses so Jennifer doesn’t have to hand water (done), install and check new inkjet cartridges in printer (half-done) and bake cookies (done).  Thankfully I didn’t have to mow the lawn too (thanks, Texas drought!). 

Usually right before I go to bed, since this is the time I give up finishing any projects or household chores, I pack.  I’ve used  a checklist for years to help me (I can’t believe I ever packed without one) but it still takes much longer than it should, at least 45 minutes.  I like putting the suitcase right up on the bed which is a problem because I usually am packing at the time Jennifer wants to go to sleep.  Last night I moved the suitcase over to just my side of the bed and she slept with the light on.

Determination – This phase begins as soon as I say goodbye to everyone.  The attitude is basically ‘Alright, I’m going, let’s do this.”  At that point I become all business, focusing almost 100% on knocking the trip out and getting back home.  I still think about Jennifer, Graham-a-lamma-ding-dong and Trevi Trevs (and the dog) but my schedule is usually busy enough with flights, long days in the office, social dinners and trying to find the nearest gyro stand without having much time to reflect on what I miss at home.  Thank goodness for Skype though so the fam and I can have video calls at least every other day, depending on what time zone I’m in and what type of trip it is.  Believe it or not, it’s tougher to schedule a Skype call when I’m in Arizona than when I’m in Germany or Japan, simply because the best time for me is after work.  On Mountain or Pacific Time, that’s when the kiddos are asleep.

Last Morning and the Drive Home

Monday night was fun in that Graham, Craisors and I drove over to the beach at night.  That night was more bed roulette.  Um, and I don’t feel like writing much more (sorry how I seem to run out of gas on these blogs, eh) so here are the relevant statistics from the last morning and roadtrip home:

Trips to the beach by Jennifer, Graham, Maisy, Trevor and me that morning: 1

Number of leashes used to keep Maisy in check: 0

Number of sea gulls caught by Maisy: 0

Furthest distance Maisy ran before coming back: 80 yards

Number of collective minutes spent looking for one of Graham’s miniature Cars cars (Clutch-Aid): 55

Time we intended to leave: 9am

Time we left: 10am

Hours it took me to load the minivan: 5,000

Times Graham cried about leaving Port A: 0 (yay!)

Hours it took to drive home: 6

Number of ferries ridden: 1

Number of pelicans seen on the ferry: 2

Number of stops: 4 (ice for the cooler in Aransas Pass, lunch break at the Blue Quail and city park in Goliad, barbecue, watermelon and Trevor food stop in Luling and frappuccino break for me in Elroy)

Number of sheriff’s deputies in the Blue Quail: 2

Minutes it took for Graham to process that the sheriffs meant that the Sheriff from the movie Cars isn’t the only sheriff in existence: 30

Seconds it took to run with Graham from the Goliad City Park around the AT&T substation to the Dairy Queen next door because he had to go potty: 65

Number of actual sheriffs seen at Dairy Queen: 1 (Sheriff Brumby, or at least, that’s what his shirt said) http://goliadcountyso.org/

Number of blind men in City Park that Matt had trouble giving directions to: 1

Taste Score (out of 10) for sausage from City Market in Luling: 15

Cost of large watermelon bought from the farmer: $8

Number of hours slept by Graham: 2

Number of chocolate stained faces: 1 (Graham’s)

Number of naps by Trevor: 2

Number of hours slept by Trevor: 2

Number of hours Jennifer spent sandwiched between Graham and Trevor in the middle row: 2

Number of minutes spent on the toll road: 0

Number of planes seen taking off or landing when driving past Austin-Bergstrom International Airport: 0 (but that’s ok because Graham slept all the way home)

Number of hours I drove before I turned on the radio: 5.5

Umm, and that’s about it.  Another great trip to Port A and something we’ll undoubtedly do next year to continue the tradition. Thanks for reading!

Day 3: Not As Interesting As Day 2

The second night was a really fun one.  We started Graham on the floor but by the time we were ready for bed, he’d moved to Jennifer’s bed.  We moved him back to the floor but back he came to Jennifer’s bed.  Finally it ended up with me on the floor and Jennifer and Graham each in a bed.  See the below graphic:

Yeah, vacations with kids are relaxing.

I forgot to add Graham's quotables from Day 2:

(as we were assembling to leave the apartment for dinner) “Everybody get in line”

(to my father-in-law) “Thank you for having a birthday”

(after being told by Jennifer not to be bossy) “Do everything I say, please?”

The next morning the kids were up and at ‘em again, this time at 5:45.  We didn’t even change them into clothes, taking them out for another walk in the wagon while still wearing their pajamas.  This time we went a different direction and made it to the beach to watch the sunrise.  Unfortunately Graham was rather disappointed that he couldn’t get into the water but at least he didn’t cry.

We made a return trip to the beach later that morning with Jennifer and her mom staying back with a napping Trevor.  It was mostly a repeat of the previous day though I found that I had to be careful how I dug holes in the mud lest I pull a muscle.  I don’t remember having that problem when I was eight years old.  Oh well.

After lunch, we took Graham and Trevor back to the house again where, um, neither one of them fell asleep.  Time to go nuclear: pack ‘em in the minivan!  Jennifer and her mother took them shopping and when they returned about forty minutes later, they were both still asleep.  I then had the option of taking them both up to the bedroom and chancing awakening one or both of them or keeping them in the minivan, driving around until they woke up. 

Duh, I drove around Port A for forty minutes. 

We ordered pizza for dinner after which Graham, Maisy Insaisy and I headed for another sundown beach excursion.  This time we wore swimsuits and drove since that would give us more time.  We frolicked in the waves for an hour and it was awesome even though the dog attempted to wrench my arm out of its socket Mos Eisley Cantina-style every time I let her run after a gull.  Again, I was tempted to let her go without the leash but that would have been dumb.  After an hour, we piled into the minivan and drove back, bringing several pounds of beach sand with us.

That reminds me: beach sand.  It is in everything you bring back from the beach.  You find it in random places around the house.  I expect to find it six months from now in unexpected places.  Writing this three days after we got back, I think there’s still some in my ears.  There’s a reason there was a $59 cleaning fee on our bill for the house.  I think, in housekeeping circles, the ultimate experience for the resume is having experience in a beachside hotel.  Thankfully our house had a showerhead on the outside where we could wash off but it still didn’t take care of everything.