It's not Dull in Hull

After a night at a very odd B&B in Beverley, I marched all the way from Hornsea to Hull which was no mean feat. I am horribly sunburnt. I will leave the walk details on www.mrssmithsbigwalk.blogspot.com.


About my weird B&B. From the outside it looked like a quaint teashop with pots in the window. On closer inspection they were horrible junk shop/antique vases and the teashop doubled as a photography studio; I have a sneaking suspicion porn films are made in the back. There was terrible, I mean the worst ever, art on every wall done by Andy, the proprietor. The whole place was sinfully scruffy and dirty and it smelt. I nearly went away but Andy was such a nice fellow and looked like he might cry if I left and, to be fair, the room was OK. He was a bit hopeless with little idea of how to run a B&B or teashop or anything else; a jack of all and master of none. He certainly couldn't muster a wife (non starter rather than gay). How he acquired his 3 stars I do not know; I can only imagine the inspector felt sorry for him as I did. I did complain a bit especially about the state of the bath towels (you don't want to know). Anyway, he obviously felt guilty as he just e-mailed me to tell me the best thing he does is breakfast which I didn't have. Sorry, Andy, I just couldn't face it. I went to Tesco instead.

I am now ensconced in a lovely expensive hotel in Hull where the sheets are all starched and crispy and the bath towels white and fluffy. This is a bit more like it. I am off to buy a sunhat - stable doors and bolted horses come to mind here but Mrs Beetroot face needs to protect her nose today. Yesterday evening I sat by the water's edge sipping a glass of wine listening to a pirate band singing piratey songs, followed by a couple of hours at the cinema where I saw a nice soppy film of the sort Mr Smith would never sit through even if I bolted his legs to the seat.