Now that spring is upon us and travel plans are less likely to be disrupted by Mother Nature, it seems appropriate to review a brief history of overnight accommodations.
Right after World War II there were only two options for lodging while traveling: downtown hotels and tourist homes. The latter were private homes with an extra bedroom or two that were rented for a few dollars to families passing through. In Roanoke, on Williamson Road, there were dozens of such places since that was the major north/south route for travelers. Motels, at that time were rented largely by the hour, thus unsuitable for families.
Reservations were unheard of so you simply rode around until you found a house with a sign in the yard that said, “Tourist Home.” There was always an element of surprise in what might occur during the night. The family could be unaware that the mainline of the Atlantic Coast Line railroad ran ten feet from the bedroom until a train roared through at 100 mph at 2 AM.
The death knell for such lodging was quickly sounded when motel chains sprang up with clean and safe environments. The halcyon days of Howard Johnson and Holiday Inn lasted for decades but now have been replaced with the Hiltons, the Marriotts, and numerous other chains. In those circumstances, the traveler is able to predict with some certainty what the accommodations will provide.
Not so with the Bed & Breakfast. Those represent the reincarnation of the Tourist Home, but with significant differences. Generally, they are older homes with varying amounts of charm and they, as advertised, serve breakfast, an amenity unimagined in the early days of staying in a residential area.
In addition to quite a tidy tariff for most B&Bs, there are innumerable websites to aid in your choice through which reservations can be made. It is here that the caveat emptor should be applied. The buyer must be aware . . . as any thinking user of the Internet surely knows . . . websites can be misleading. The best recommendation should come from a trusted friend who has actually stayed in a particular B&B, but that is not always available. While nearly all the B&B establishments are satisfactory, exceptions are present.
A friend tells the story of selecting “The Most Romantic B&B in (insert the name of a charming Southern coastline city). Reservations were made and on arrival at a magnificent antebellum mansion, all seemed promising until the front door bell went unanswered. An index card on the porch cryptically said, “Side Door,” which actually was a basement door. When repeated raps were delivered, it eventually was cracked open by the “innkeeper,” an octogenarian who asked to be addressed as “Lady Smith.” When asked about the reservation, a key to the front door was supplied and it went downhill from there. The bedroom had two pieces of furniture: a wall mounted TV and a bed. The bathroom was tastefully appointed with a single towel and an industrial-size bar of Ivory soap which, as advertised a century ago, did float. A request to “Lady Smith” for ice and glasses drew the response, “I don’t believe anyone has ever asked for ice. There might be some in the kitchen.” The door closed quickly.
The couple made do with the sparseness but at breakfast the next morning was greeted by a surly pair hired by “Lady Smith” to service the six guests who showed up in the cavernous and unfurnished hall which, at one time, must have been a bank lobby. Napkins were dealt out like cards in a poker game, the plates of food slapped down with resounding authority. A couple, who arrived late, asked for coffee only to be told, “Not making any more coffee.”
“Lady Smith” did not answer her door for an explanation of the problems but a review of website comments revealed two varieties: One (possibly written by relatives or under duress) that were glowing, and a barrage of terrible reviews, the most memorable started off, “Where to begin! First of all, bring your own light bulbs.” You get the picture that our friends were not the only victim.
Who knows the true story behind that place? Certainly, it is the exception rather than the rule for B&Bs. I suspect, as a writer, a novel could come out of that basement, if the innkeeper chose to answer the door.
Travelling mercies for all who venture forth this fine spring ; may you not encounter a “Lady Smith.”
-Hayden Hollingsworth