By the end of this week, our little Airbnb unit will have been cleaned and laundered five times since its launch barely a fortnight ago.  You would think it should be gleaming brilliantly by now, and it is – but I have never before been so aware of dust and fluff!

I had done a bit of research before we began this whole process.  I knew that good-quality bed linen and lovely, fluffy towels are two of the biggies when it comes to creating pleasing guest accommodation.

Well, I am already becoming very well acquainted with my good-quality linen and fluffy towels.  Each new guest requires a pristine set of sheets, duvet cover and towels.  This means that after each guest, there will be three loads of washing and drying.  Towels must be fluffed up in the dryer and rolled attractively.  Sheets must then be carefully ironed, together with their matching pillow cases.  And do you think I listened to my own previous scoffing about beds and their staging pillows?  Well of course I didn’t.  So now I also have two big beautiful European pillows adoring the guest bed, with two big beautiful pillow cases that also require washing, drying and ironing each time.  So that’s six pillow cases in total, plus an added arty one just for good measure.

And seeking to impress, I chose crispy pure-white sheets, duvet covers and those big stagey pillows.  They do all look really nice, well in my opinion anyway.  But matey-potatey do they ever show every little speck of anything that is not as white as themselves!

Where does it all originate from, this fluff?  I come at all surfaces, armed with a clean microfibre cloth and dust pedantically.  I join forces with my powerful partner–in-the-battle vacuum cleaner and together we deal to all floor areas until they should be cowering in the face of our vigour.

I scrub and polish all tapware until it gleams at me and reflects my flushed face and Sadie-Scarved head.

Can I just add that I wear a Sadie Scarf for this entire cleaning ritual?  I call it a Sadie Scarf, because I feel like Sadie the Cleaning Lady when I wear it.  (Poor Sadie, I’m sure there was more to her than just cleaning).  I have been tempted to wear a shower cap – that would probably be quite sensible – but I simply can’t bring myself to do so, just in case there’s a knock at the door.  Vanity, and all that.

The reason for this hair envelopment?  Well, if we have never met, I will let you know that I have Big Hair.  I capitalise that because I often hear other people talk about having thick hair or lots of hair, or even big hair, but when they do, I find myself thinking “Sunshine, that ain’t really thick or lots, or even big.”  My hair is what Big Hair is.  My most precious hairdresser Rosina will confirm this.  She exclaims about it from time to time.  And I’m so horrified at the thought of leaving even one strand of it as an unwelcome welcome for a guest, that I have resorted to the Sadie as part of my cleaning amour.

But back to fluff.  I have Googled to find where household fluff comes from, ie. what it is made up of.  I wish I hadn’t.  I wouldn’t advise it.  In fact, I’m now trying to un-remember it.  And yet, no matter how thoroughly I clean, I always seem to find a speck of it here and there at the final examination (which I do with my reading glasses on – and which I need because I’m actually part-way towards being a grown-up now).

If it sounds like I’m moaning about the whole deal, I’m not.  Well, maybe I am a tad, but to be honest the whole idea of preparing a place for people to stay is quite special.  I want each guest to enjoy their time.  I want them to find everything sparkling clean and smelling sweet (thank you to dear Annie for putting me onto Comfort – the best fabric conditioner ever!).  And I leave a jar of homemade cookies and a personalised note just so they feel expected and welcome.  Because each person is precious and of great value.  And cookies are great soul food.

We have a lock box at our accommodation, so I probably won’t get to meet every guest.  But already there have been some really nice conversations, even just in the booking process.  People are so interesting and each guest comes with their own story.

Plus, when we do eventually find our place to renovate in France, imagine if it has land and even outbuildings.  Imagine if we could have gîtes (that’s the French term for holiday rental homes).  So while the Airbnb Project is a way of us working towards our French dream, it could also provide some good practice in all things gîtey – well, without the speaking French bit. That will have to come later (Clive is still trying to come to terms with irregular – or as he calls them “irrational” verbs!).

Les cookies aux pépites de chocolat (fluff-free) xx