Ah, visitors… Such a joy – as long as they whisk themselves off for a nap mid-afternoon. Debora Robertson recommends food prep, job delegation, a judicious amount of eating out – and scones
When we lived in London, we frequently had people to stay. Our house was a convenient place for our friends, family and often mere acquaintances to drop their bags and themselves in transition from some terrible airport (they’re all terrible airports now, aren’t they?) to other points in the country. Or for those coming into town for meetings, parties, exhibitions and plays.
I loved it. Slummocking about in dressing gowns in the morning, or sitting over the last of the wine in the evening blesses each friendship with a new degree of intimacy not always attainable when sitting bolt upright in a smart restaurant with your finest face and shoes on. For those of our best beloveds who lived far away, a weekend of eating, drinking and sitting about the place could make up for a year’s worth of regular lunches and dinners.
Anyone who lives in London or any big city will be familiar with requests from those close to you to put up a friend, a niece or nephew for a few days. I almost always said yes to these requests, as I’m a firm believer in the angel-at-my-table school of welcoming people. (It comes from the Bible verse, ‘Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.’) We have made many great friends, some angelic, some decidedly otherwise, this way.
When we moved to southwest France last year, I expected a slightly quieter existence. I am an idiot. I have accidentally become a seaside landlady. As I write this, we are at the tail end of a succession of visitors with only a day or two between each one: a wine writer friend who tagged a few days on the end of a press trip to visit us; three of our closest friends who arranged a surprise birthday weekend for a fourth; a friend who had been working very hard and needed a little sea-air break; my mother- and father-in-law, sister- and brother-in-law’s first visit.
What can I say? It’s a lot of laundry and enough trips to the bottle bank to get my steps in. Here are the conclusions I’ve gleaned from this period of intense sociability, my notes from the field, on how to have people to stay without losing your mind.
As with all things, planning ahead a bit can make everything feel in the moment. You’re hoping to convey the sense of ease that used to be achieved with a household of staff,
