Chris Maclean: Publican, interrupted

After more than 20 years in this trade I still cannot get used to the constant interruptions and intrusions into my time. Intentionally we do not have a telephone in our flat but almost from the moment we go downstairs until the time we go back up the phones downstairs are a constant nightmare.

Because the restaurant is having a particularly busy patch the phone there is almost constantly ringing. This week I checked how often I was dealing with table bookings and realised that I, alone, was taking over 20 a day. Meanwhile the hotel is also constantly attracting enquiries. Even better are the restaurant enquiries that involve the hotel as well. Increasingly people are combining booking accommodation with a reservation in our restaurant which entails matching the restaurant diary with the hotel diary. Very rarely can I answer the phone without having to find my spectacles, the correct diary, a sharp pencil and a place to sort it all out on.

I used to get frustrated by cold telephone calls from sales people. Enquiries about my rateable value, my utility suppliers, my till roll supplies and my advertising needs used to annoy me. Now I positively welcome them as a refreshing alternative to taking bookings.

The problem is that a ringing telephone is not easily ignored. Even the most passionate of encounters must be put on hold to answer the telephone. Inevitably it is a booking ~ the lifeblood of my business ~ but it is still frustrating none the less.

More intrusive than the telephone are those that walk in at odd times and expect us to drop everything we are currently doing to attend to their needs. This morning hotel guests left the front door ajar for only a moment and customers were wandering in wanting copies of the menus, to use the toilets and to check on availability ~ at exactly the time I am sitting down to have my breakfast.

All the doors are locked until when we open at midday but even so customers have a remarkable ability to enter via the kitchen or a back door, wander into the bar, despite everything else being locked and in total darkness, and enquire if we are open or not.

Recently I've discovered that irritating sales people visiting the brewery are fobbed off by some managers suggesting that they should "Go and visit Chris at the Railway" as though I might be interested in vacuum-packed meat products or whatever they are pushing. They always seem to come at that time.

The four hours in the morning before we open are precious to me. I can get lots done. It's when I can attend to the repairs, clean the lines, sort the banking out and spend time with my missus. The people intruding into that have no reasonable cause to think this time might be special to us. But it is.

The phones will continue to ring and people will continue to visit. I would be more concerned if they didn't. And I will continue to try and put a pleasant face on it. But I don't think I'll ever get used to it.