Child labour scandal in a so-called ethical enterprise

When we first became hoteliers I thought a) that the strongest selling point would be our eco-credentials, yummy farmers' market food and the holier-than-thou aroma of fair-traded coffees (actually we've found one that's also tastier, like the bacon, than any of the villainous brands - people rave about it), and b) that the place had to be a smooth-running machine with the children hermetically sealed behind closed doors, never to be seen or heard. The bumptious brood had other ideas, insisting on taking people to see their rabbit farm in the garden shed and explaining the finer points of the art of cricket to bemused visitors from overseas. Judging by the outpourings of enthusuiasm in the vistors' book, it is this that they actually appreciate most.

In retrospect, I can see the appeal. We have never enjoyed the mechanistic, clinical atmosphere of 'slick' hotels either. And I now think all of us human animals have some sort of atavistic urge to combine our professional lives with our family lives. People often express their relief at feeling they can 'be themselves and, for once, relax completely'. Luxury and elegance don't necessarily mean you have to behave in some formal, artificial way that leaves you exhausted from keeping up appearances, being someone you aren't.

Of course, it also means that we ('the groan-ups') have been able to de-stress a lot more and I think this comes across in the way we deal with guests. And there's a lot of laughter and cross-cultural exchanging of names and addresses between visitors from all over the world, loosened up and with their loads lightened by diminutive diplomats with sticky fingers.

Maybe Kari and I should retire now and bequeath the entire operation to the kids, before they grow up too much to remember how to run a successful multinational enterprise.