“The moment I leave, it gets busy again,” my sister writes me jokingly on WhatsApp. And she’s right. She’s barely left Spanish soil and I already have a busy weekend ahead of me. The Day of the Spanish Constitution on Friday 6 December and the Immaculate Conception on Sunday 8 December (with a possible extension until Monday 9 December), means that the first guests check in on Thursday and the last ones don’t leave until Monday morning. No problem. After my sister has been the main person responsible for cleaning both the house and the rooms for almost two months, it gives me the opportunity to get back into it.
After rearranging the laundry room and replacing all the mid-season blankets with the warmer winter version, I make sure that all the rooms look spick and span. I take the guests, most of whom want to check in early on Friday, to their rooms one by one. When the last couple, who arrive after their lunch at Nou Tarrasó, has checked in and the fire in the living room is burning nicely, I allow myself a moment of rest. However, I don’t have more than an hour. Because unlike the summer season – where I am busy cleaning the pool and refilling the ice cubes in the honesty bar – I have to make sure that the fire keeps burning during the cold winter months. Because without central heating, that fire is not only cozy and/or romantic, but also essential for heating the common areas.
After the alarm on my phone reminds me in time around five o’clock, I walk downstairs to throw another block of wood on the fire. As I walk down the stairs, I hear the beans grinding in the coffee machine. I nod kindly to the guest who is currently staying in room Un. Surprised that the light in the living room is off, I then walk straight to the fireplace. Because I initially don’t realize that there are two guests sitting on the couch, I am startled when I suddenly look to the right. Thanks to the fire, which not only heats the room but also lights it up at that moment, I see that the guests are not sitting at all. No, they are lying down. And from the snoring of one of them, they both seem to be fast asleep. I can’t suppress a slight smile. As quickly and silently as possible, I throw a new, large block of wood on the fire and go back upstairs.
When I come back downstairs a little over an hour later to take a look, I see that the lady of the couple has just woken up. Only when she goes to make a cup of tea does her husband wake up too. While I fill all the cups and saucers and she waits for the water to boil, she fires one compliment after another at me. “The fire! The music in the background! How lovely it is here!” Happy that the guests are enjoying themselves so much, we chat a little bit until her tea is ready and she rejoins her husband on the couch. As I fill the water in the coffee maker and the kettle, I think to myself that this is exactly what we have envisioned all these years. The Spanish expression Mi casa es tu casa captures it perfectly. My house is your house. May many more guests like this follow. Guests who feel both comfortable and at home – already after a few hours of being here.