My restaurant and I have been happily settled in Glastonbury for four years, and I feel I know my business, my customers and my area.
But every time I think I know the formula, that I have finally figured it all out, something happens in the restaurant that reminds me I am still at the base of this mountain of knowledge, and there are lofty heights yet to climb.
My recent dilemma was whether to open the restaurant during Glastonbury Festival. Previously I have written about the importance of evolving, changing tactic and willingness to try new directions.
But no one tells you how scary that is. When we open ourselves up to change, we create space for growth and creativity, although sometimes the biggest obstacle to change is ourselves.
Reflection
I’m entirely aware I’m philosophising like Plato. Could this reflective tone stem from the few hours I spent in the healing fields of the festival, briefly surrounded by yogis and gong baths.
Or perhaps it is the fact I have returned from a rather hedonistic holiday and still feel like a deflated balloon, left withered and spent on the floor of a leisure centre at the end of a children’s birthday party; surrounded in detritus, crumbs and glitter.
Let’s go with the former; it makes me sound far more spiritual and erudite.
Indulgences and healing experiences aside, I have been given a reason to reflect this year. For those that don’t know me, I own a restaurant in Glastonbury.
Despite the name, Glastonbury Festival is not actually in Glastonbury town; rather in Pilton. The descending of workers, chancers and ticket holders alike mean that the roads in the surrounding area are utterly unpassable.
This is a nightmare for suppliers, deliveries and staff travelling in, not to mention anyone who want to visit town. Every year we have closed for the festival.
More faith
Everyone heads to the field, the majority of my staff and I included. I have always considered staying open to be a waste of manpower, money and resources and for the last three years I have been adamant that closing is the only solution. This year was different though.
A few local B&B owners had said there were more visitors than ever before. Along with our increased media exposure over the last year and constant steady custom we decided to risk it with a skeleton team and a reduced menu.
It paid off! We were full every evening. If I wore a hat I would most certainly have to eat it. Was this luck, or an educated decision? This was something I had resisted for years, like a stubborn mule refusing to budge.
I was also terrified of deviating from my norm. When we own restaurants we develop this fanatical obsession with protecting them. Understandably so.
I refer to Queen of Cups as my first born child, and the thought of any harm coming to it fills me with unadulterated panic. That harm can come from something as innocuous as changing your opening hours for just one week of the year. But the world is still turning and my doors are still open.
Maybe I just need to have a bit more faith. Or perhaps I need to worry less? Maybe I’m just too stubborn. Or I might just need a bit more sleep!
