About the Author

I was born in the Battle hospital, Reading on November 29th 1965, but spent most of my ‘miss-spent’ youth in Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire. We lived in a lovely home backing onto woodland where the three boys (I was the youngest) would spend countless hours. At tea time, mother would ring a bell to summon us to the table, we had 5 minutes to get sat after washing our hands and faces, the times we failed, we went straight to bed with red backsides and full of only hunger. My last school was Ashlyns Comprehensive, which was opposite the much posher and fee charging Berkhamsted School for Boys. When I left after my last day on 2/7/1982 the deputy headmaster said “Hageman, you are no good, will never be any good, you’ll never get a decent job or be any use to society whatsoever, I am happy to say goodbye”! Nice one Cyril!

My dream career, if ever I was asked, was always to be a farrier, but hard as I tried I couldn’t get an apprenticeship. My working life thus far has only taken me from an apprentice Cabinet Maker to Car Salesman (due to a serious back injury playing cricket) and then Hotel Owner and Restaurateur. My first (paid) day of work in the hotel industry was also the day I took over my first hotel 15/3/95.

After hearing the cruel words of the deputy head, I left the school with no job and few prospects, but I hated Cyril Hughes, he was always after me, (something I later found out was due to my more academic, but equally as unpopular brothers, Paul and Gavin than me) so I set out to prove him wrong. He was also a cricketer and the captain of Berkhamsted 2nd X1, for whom I played regularly. I walked along Berkhamsted High Street crossing the road all the way down, looking, asking and pleading for a job. At the end of the main street nothing remained, I’d tried butchers, bakers and candlestick makers. As I turned to walk up Billet lane and homeward I came across Durrants & Sons makers of office furniture. Inside I met Mr Monger, the Foreman, who showed me around the factory, it felt good and smelt of sawdust. I had no idea then, that sometimes who you know is better than what you know. I soon learnt, as I was introduced again, to Jim Shirley, better known to me as Arkala. (Some years back he lead the cub scouts pack that I loved so.) I was a nice lad then and he gave Eric Monger a glowing reference. I started work one minute late the next day.

I was always ‘gifted’ with the gab, indeed “had more rabbit than Sainsburys”, my first Sales Manager told me. Having injured my back in 1984 playing cricket, to the tune of two fractures, I had an enforced lay off from all things physical. My mother gave me a good talking to, two years later and persuaded me to apply for a job selling cars. I breezed the interview and some personality test they gave me and started soon after, I even got a company car! At Perry’s of Aylesbury I prospered and learnt my trade, I was good at it too, especially after being told “all customers and colleagues are lying, cheating, thieving bastards”! I met my wife, Ally there, she was the sales managers secretary and wrote me my first professional written warning! For “going on walkabout”. I could only sit still for half an hour because of back related pain, so I’d go off and wander around a little. Basically, I grabbed the customers in the car park before they got into the showroom to be picked off by others less ingenious!

Training whilst with BMW was exceptional, as was the treatment throughout, by most. However, I was treated extremely badly by the boss I respected so much, he vented his spleen on me and no one else, like no one else could! Why? Because I could take it and not react, when I often wanted to blood his nose, but as an ex Hong Kong ‘copper’ he would probably have seen me coming. I would never be a boss like that, would I? I also was taught how to detect a lie, whether that be facial expression or by stealthy questions, this, however useful in the motor trade, would not always prove helpful later in hospitality.

I ended up very close to home in Aylesbury, working briefly at Pentagon Mercedes Benz. One reason was to be close to my new wife Ally and my newer pride and joy, Jemma, our first baby daughter. Another was to use it as a cover to set up the hotel business whilst using the ‘secretarial services available’. The sales manager once said “You’re such a conscientious salesman Andy, you follow up your customers so much that the bill for your phone alone is £300 a month”! Or could it have been the countless calls to the Bank of Scotland to secure a loan, my brother and partner Paul for advice in India! Or was it those lengthy calls to my solicitor? The things employees do under their bosses’ noses, terrible! The purchase and set up of my first business was a partnership with my brother.

The Dial House Hotel in Crowthorne, Berkshire was a 16-bedroom hotel frequented by many corporate guests attending training courses in the UK Silicon Valley, Bracknell and Reading. My second daughter, Emily, was born during our first summer season and the family unit was complete. The learning curve was both sharp and steep but I loved the trade, the guests, the life and the proximity to alcohol. The Basil in me appeared with increasing regularity.

After two and half years of great success and many lessons, the partnership with my brother ceased to be tenable. In addition, my wife lost her parents each aged 58, just 11 weeks apart. We were both devastated at the loss and the failing partnership, so decided to take a sabbatical.

We moved to Chandlers Ford, in Hampshire, to a house just 500 yards from her sister Beverly, her husband Ted and their three daughters. Ally continued to work part time for the Dial House Hotel and now sole owner, my brother, Paul. Whereas I returned to my newfound love of the golf course gaining my first golf handicap of 22 and set about its reduction by playing 5 to 7 days a week. Eighteen months later, my handicap was in single figures, as was my bank account.

With money fast running out and mainly for fun - to give my sister-in-law Bev something to do, we bought an Italian/American pizzeria in Winchester. This gave us a taster for pizza and also for things to come! The venture kept me on the golf course a little longer but was never likely to make a mint. I hankered after a return to the hotel trade, but this time wanted something special in a location to suit the family.

Every time I found the perfect place the wives would say, it was too far away from each other! My second hotel partnership was with my wife’s sister and her husband, but I never expected Ted and Bev to say yes to the question I asked, after our drunken BBQ, at their house…. “Why don’t you sell up and buy a big hotel with me and Ally?” The houses were sold and Ted handed in his resignation, he was working for Readers on the Isle of Wight, commuting everyday from our hometown, Chandlers Ford. He said he hated it and we all believed him.

Having scoured the country, looking at various establishments, we settled upon a 16th century Elizabethan Manor House Hotel in Corfe Castle, Dorset.