A person’s head pops up over the wall from the thatched cottage subsequent door — and he’s not completely happy.
‘The council has to tell us if there may be going to be stay music and we’ve got not been knowledgeable and so you’ll have to cease,’ he says to the guitarist, one half of a jazzy duo taking a break from their set within the backyard of the Fuzzy Duck.
The supervisor then enters into negotiations. We’ve got nothing in opposition to the music in itself however our sympathies are with the neighbour, who in all probability moved to the Warwickshire hamlet of Armscote — not removed from Stratford-upon-Avon — to get away from precisely this kind of scenario.
A feather in its cap: The Fuzzy Duck is tastefully put collectively, with simply 4 rooms upstairs
However, he’s bought an honest bar and restaurant on his doorstep, due to siblings Tania Fossey and Adrian Slater, the household behind the Baylis & Harding magnificence model. They opened the Fuzzy Duck two years in the past in an outdated blacksmith’s.
It’s tastefully put collectively, with 4 rooms upstairs, all named after geese. Ours is Indian Runner, which is cramped fairly than small. There’s no tub or wardrobe and the one place to park a case comfortably is on high of the tiny leather-based self-importance desk. However the cover and pillows are gloriously duck-like fluffy and we’re invited to assist ourselves to all kinds of Baylis & Harding lotions.
We’re right here on a Saturday night time and the workers can’t cope. There’s a non-public dinner occurring within the conservatory and the principle restaurant is heaving. We take our gin and tonics (there’s a powerful gin menu with 9 totally different choices) to the backyard and a waiter says he’ll come for our orders however by no means exhibits.
Quaint: The resort is located within the Warwickshire hamlet of Armscote — not removed from Stratford-upon-Avon
At dinner, the service is haphazard. It takes endlessly to get two glasses of wine on the desk and our request for bread and olives doesn’t carry any rewards for at the least quarter-hour. They’ve run out of steaks and so we order one burger with out the bun and one rump of lamb, each cheap.
Subsequent morning brings with it a way of calm and an opportunity to admire the stone flooring within the cosy bar, the stack of wellies for many who fancy a waddle, the black and white pictures and the charming accent of the Ukrainian lady married to a Lithuanian who serves us a scrumptious breakfast after which virtually embraces us as we are saying our goodbyes.
The Fuzzy Duck’s coronary heart is in the fitting place. It simply wants fewer company or extra workers.
