The hotel made me hungry. I blame the doors.

B
B-b-b-b-b-burger

It took some figuring out, but it finally came to me. The reason I was always so hungry at the hotel that served as my home three days a week was the doors. Definitely the doors, they spoke to me in menu language and made me want to eat.

As I went to and fro, voices would make a foody staccato whisper. ‘Chickkkkken bur-bur-burger’, ‘soooooouuupppppp’, ‘stickytoffeepuddingstickytoffeepuddingstickytoffeepudding. They made me very hungry indeed.

The Hopping Hare at Duston, Northampton, is a converted manor house. I liked it as soon as I stepped through the door, the carpets are stripey, you see. But being an old building with character, sympathetically  restored, there are fire doors everywhere, so heading for the room meant opening and closing many doors, special doors. I was soon to discover they were talking doors.

I think those clever restoration men and women also designed the menu, for the closing doors always spoke of food and the restaurant always did a roaring trade. A very clever marketing tool, I think I may adopt it at home, though instead of food, the theme will be DIY. Open a door and it asks to be painted, touch a wall and it calls for paper, open the door to the garden and it calls for weeding. Noel will never suspect……

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