First, let me tell you this: my wife and I like to travel. In fact we love to travel. Traveling is one of the activities we plan to pursue extensively when our last child has exited her terrible teens and our home simultaneously.

But, to be honest, we did not always have the same ideas when it came to where we would stay when we traveled. This can be, to say the least, problematic. Having both grown up during the seventies (well she did at least, I’m more of the sixties vintage), we both became thoroughly indoctrinated to the concept of the family vacation.

You know the one: pack kids, dogs, suitcases, Kool-Aid and meatloaf sandwiches (who knew about freezer packs?) into the family car and drive every day from predawn until dark, making minimal stops for bathrooms, gas, sightseeing or souvenirs. Many of us who grew up during those days can recall crossing three provinces and five states in just under the allotted one week of vacation time.

Resting during these vacations was, for many of our fathers, not a priority. The roadside motel with a flickering neon sign advertising clean beds (was there an alternative?) and hopefully a pool was good enough. Down comforters, turn down service and in-room dining were not even a part of our vernacular let alone an option.

Well that’s not entirely accurate. An order-out pizza eaten while sitting on the bed, watching Gilligan’s Island and popping quarters into the Magic Fingers vibrating mattress could have qualified I suppose.

Because of these colorful experiences, my wife and I like to plan our trips and check our accommodations before we travel.  For me that means looking up the CAA/AAA Diamond Rating, determining whether there is easy access to early morning coffee and getting the best rate.

For my wife, however, the process is somewhat more complicated. The AAA TourBook rating is assessed first then the TripAdvisor reviews. Plus, there’s a perusal of the facilities offered, discussion about whether the property has inside or outside entrances, whether we can have a top floor as opposed to a first floor room and…..well, you see where I’m going with this. I’m told that negotiation in marriage is always a good thing.

There is one thing on which we do agree: B&Bs and how much we enjoy them. But, it was not always this way. Early in our marriage a suggestion to stay at a B&B or country inn would elicit shudders from my wife.

Having traveled as a child in the Canadian Maritimes of the 1970s, her concept of a B&B was being shown to the recently vacated bedroom of the homeowner’s child or deceased grandparent, complete with all the knick-knacks and curios that its most recent occupant had spent years collecting.

One such place, she attests, still had clothes and makeup on the bureau. They appeared to belong to a girl about her own age. She fell asleep that night worried about where the room’s rightful owner might be sleeping.

In another very rural area of Newfoundland, the town’s only B&B (in fact it’s only lodging at all) had one room for rent. As it was the only place for many miles, my wife’s father rented the room. She describes the hilarity of trying to sleep next to her brother and father all in one sway-backed double bed in which the mattress was so old that all three of them wound up squished together in the sagging middle. At least it gave her a good story. 

My own experiences traveling with my family across Europe in the 1970s so closely echo hers one must appreciate the close connection between the Canadian Maritimes and its European counterpart.

So, convincing her to give it another go was not an easy sell. When driving across Canada from Vancouver to New Brunswick, as we did each summer when she was in university, she would hold out for the two-story, inside-entrance accommodation described earlier. 

However, when I began working for CAA, I became more familiar with inns and B&Bs and was convinced it was an experience my wife would truly enjoy. Reluctantly she finally agreed to take me at my word and spent a few days B&B’ing it. We have never looked back.

The first place we went to was a lovely old 19th Century gray-shingled inn in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Just entering the foyer with its vaulting ceilings, ornately carved lintels and sweeping mahogany staircase was a sensory pleasure. 

It was fall, and a fire crackled in the parlor. The hushed and tranquil air fairly breathed relaxation. Having seen our room with its four posted pineapple bed, smooth polished hardwood floors and plush down duvet confirmed that we had found the type of experience that was perfect for us both.

Many B&Bs and country inns have active social times for those inclined to partake. The irony here is that my wife is much more social than me. B&Bs had been ideally suited to her all along.

Some even offer complimentary afternoon tea or wine in the evening. My wife enjoyes going to either one while I hold out for the wine. In a recent B&B stay in Sedona, Arizona, the wine was superb and was accompanied by a beautiful array of fresh cheeses, pastries and fruit. What’s not to like?

What we both particularly enjoy is the intimate nature of the inside of many B&Bs. These are unique properties, very unlike typical hotels and motels.

Many are converted century-old private homes, and their surroundings hearken back to a time when pride in craftsmanship was of the greatest importance. Look to the tall ships and churches of the 19th Century, and in a microcosm, this is what many country inns evince. When one steps into their foyers, one steps back in time. 

Having said this, not all B&Bs are located in historic buildings. Some are more recently built. But, the beauty of these lodgings remains consistent—like the unique nature of the properties and the people who run them.

My wife and I are about to venture on another excursion. This one will likely take us to Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island — a locale replete with many beautiful B&Bs. In a B&B, a fire crackles in the grate. The gracious host awaits. It’s time for us to truly vacation.