We didn’t set out to build a bed & breakfast. Honestly, we just wanted a bit of peace. A slower morning. Somewhere the coffee didn’t taste rushed, and the sky didn’t feel like a backdrop to a spreadsheet.
Funny how things happen, though. You blink, and suddenly you’re putting old wooden beams back in place with your bare hands and arguing over wallpaper at midnight. And then one day—quietly—you realize you’ve made a place people might want to stay. Not just sleep. Stay.
The Vale isn’t polished in that cookie-cutter, picture-perfect kind of way. We like to think it breathes a little. There’s a squeaky step near the stairwell and the kettle might take a second longer than you’d like, but somehow that makes the tea taste better. Maybe it’s just us.
We’re tucked in a part of the countryside where time seems to forget to move. Birds still argue in the hedges, mornings come with fog and sometimes sheep wander closer than you’d expect. It’s the kind of quiet you don’t notice until you leave—and then you can’t stop missing it.
Some guests come here running from something—a job, a city, a version of themselves they don’t recognize anymore. Others just want a warm bed, a good breakfast, and to feel like someone sees them for a second. We get that. Really, we do.
We cook like your gran might’ve, if she had a garden and didn’t care about Instagram. The jam’s made in small batches and the eggs are from just down the lane. And if you’re lucky, there’ll be a slice of Victoria sponge left over from the morning fuss.
We don’t have keycards, and the Wi-Fi’s not bulletproof (it might go missing in the rain). But what we do have is space—to sit, to breathe, to be a little undone. You can talk or not talk. Wander or stay still. We’re not here to sell you an experience. We’re just… here.
Sometimes, over breakfast, someone tells us they slept better than they have in months. That they remembered what their own voice sounded like. That they cried a little without really knowing why. We don’t pretend to fix anything—but sometimes a real place helps you remember you’re real too.
Anyway, we won’t ramble too much. If you come, we’ll be glad. If not, that’s alright too. Places like this find the right people in the end.
With warm bread and slightly wonky windows,
—The Vale
