There’s nothing like taking a weekend’s worth of a romance into the great unknown for a getaway. A tiny little town called Fredericksburg beckoned us with its bed and breakfast allure, cozy shops, and (one) scenic attraction. Yes, we embarked on yet another B&B escapade, which we haven’t touched with a ten foot pole since exactly one year ago, ironically our first B&B experience. For those of you who don’t remember, it involved the first night of our honeymoon, a tiny bed, no shower, and a shocking communal breakfast (who knew there were others at a B&B?)
But this weekend, we ‘lucked’ out with an entire estate, which was explained to me as another great reason to procrastinate: people cancel their bookings and now we have not only one room but a whole stinking house. We rolled up after I had gorged myself on 99c cheeze-puffs and chocolate from a townie stop. German town speak littered the streets and shops, and no, I didn’t want a schnitzel, whatever that was. We pulled into the carport of the Das Keidel Inn and walked up the creaky steps to a terrace branching off into three separate bedrooms. We left to walk around the town and stopped to eat at the local brewery, where I used a knife to cut my salmon. Two glasses of wine later, we make our way back to the estate. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a slam. Somebody was downstairs. Left to my skivvies, I yell-whispered to my husband of (exactly) one year that there was an intruder. He grabbed the folding luggage holder (?) while I armed up with the fire extinguisher. We set out like a silent army to catch the culprit, only to find no one. We did, however, notice that a whole wing of the house was locked off.
The next morning after a fitful night’s sleep, we set out to climb the tourist attraction. When we returned, a woman was standing in the front yard of Das Keidel Inn taking a photograph. She smiled, walked right past us, and went in the back door. Weird things going in at Das Keidel, that’s for sure.
But we ventured out again to make the best of our day, me secretly wearing all of my valuables of course. When we returned from walking the shops, we swung open the door to find a puddle of water to the left of the entryway. There was no leak in the ceiling, no empty glass nearby, no reason for the mystery water. Within two hours it had evaporated. I couldn’t sleep without a thorough (under beds, behind doors) excavation.
Bryan explained that sometimes the owners actually live in the bed and breakfast, which I think is weird, especially if they don’t give you a heads up. I will never know if that woman in the yard of Das Keidel Inn was truly the owner…or…gasp…a spirit. All I know is the Best Western was looking pretty good.