The room was so small that I had to store my luggage in the shower. The door had a privacy screen in the form of a torn plaid sheet. The mattress was severely lumpy and I was ready to slide off unless I wedged myself against the wall. The window looks out on a battered bamboo screen. There were no hangers, no closet, no drawers, and there was one shelf. I really don’t appreciate spending money and my hard-earned vacation time camped in someone’s half a kitchen listening to them and their friends for hours on end (and if you’re going to do that, at least invite me…). I have stayed at B&Bs in almost 20 countries on 5 continents (including South America) and I don’t feel at all that I came here with unrealistic expectations of what a B&B should be; there needs to be at least some space and appropriation for guests. The house is about 1400 square feet for three family members, their cook, and six guest rooms, which gives you an idea of what it’s like. The guests are mostly family friends, including the Swiss guy that the B&B owner took to the airport to meet me for $30 ride to the B&B (by the way, offering a free bottle of wine upon arrival does not distract from the fact that the charged ride is almost double what an authorized airport taxi would cost). In other words, the B&B family has lots of friends coming and going who are “guests,” and fill in the odd “room” here and there with ordinary travelers like me expecting professional accommodation.
