I've just got back and seen the shape of things to come. We pensioners may just be about to rule the world. Think holiday in a retirement home. It was just amazing. We were probably the youngest there apart from the wonderful staff. I really wasn't expecting it.
You have to admire the Unique Selling Point to a niche market. The whole thing is really well organised to deliver a very good experience. The punters obviously really enjoy it and come back for more ...& more. You can be a Concierge Member if you go often enough - and they do - time & time again.
What's not to like about staying in a stately home, in wonderful grounds, in an interesting area of the UK. The staff are well trained & very professional. The rooms are comfortable & quiet. There is lots to do on site, so you needn't even leave the hotel. I went rifle shooting. Good thing I'm not likely to defend the Realm - I couldn't hit anything.
The entertainment was entertaining, but possibly not in the way they expected. There is dancing & then there is dancing. This was like the dance of the dead. Moving around the floor, often in sequence, but barely moving at all. Somehow the faces were immobile, possibly because they were concentrating on doing the steps. The posture was generally very upright & stiff, (but then I can understand that, suffering from advanced rigor mortis myself). There was no rhythm or joy in movement, (but I suppose at this age we are happy to actually still be moving). The young professional hosts & resident band were wonderful. Not only were they trained dancers / actors / musicians, but they determinedly created a good atmosphere & got people involved. Except us. We just watched. The comedian managed to encourage an early night though. I laughed once. Maybe my sense of humour is worn out too.
There were some stand out personalities among the guests. The very elderly lady who danced alongside the professional hosts doing her own thing, completely divorced from anything they were doing. I didn't know whether to admire her b...s or squirm with embarassment. The man who seemed to managed to nail us in the sauna or steam room & tell us his personal life over and over again. Response was not necessary. The man who we saw at every meal time, because you are allocated a table & can't move about in the restaurant. He was a great raconteur, but again didn't really want a conversation. What is it about these monopolising men who think women were just created as an audience? Women can bore for England too, but fortunately we didn't meeet any.
The singalongs in the lounges reminded me even more of an old peoples home. Fortunately there wasn't any Bingo, but it was like God's waiting room at times. Interestingly there was no ethnic mix at all. We were all white British. Maybe that should be addressed.
I feel like "Mrs Grumpy rides again" - I did enjoy it really.
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