Last weekend I travelled to a Bemer conference held at the Holiday Inn just outside Coventry. I decided to arrive a couple of days early, partly as a small break and partly to settle myself before the event. Coventry itself, like many large towns now, feels as though it is changing but not necessarily for the better, so I was glad to explore instead the quieter areas nearby.

the coffee room was a healing event in itself

One worthwhile stop was to visit Ian, a Bemer user, who runs the Well-Being Coffee Lodge in a rural spot north of Crick. He and his wife, Jhiona, welcomed me warmly; the place has a gentle sincerity about it. They treat both people and animals, often for little or no cost, and seem to work from genuine care rather than business impulse.

Back at the hotel, I was struck by the thoughtfulness of the details: charging ports built into the plugs, lighting that was actually sufficient for reading, quiet rooms, and staff who took pride in helping. It sounds small, but these touches create a sense of being looked after. I found myself telling the duty manager how rare that has become.

The conference began at 10 a.m., but the real learning came from speaking to other attendees beforehand. Everyone had their own reasons for being there, and each story was different—yet many shared the same desire: to feel better, move better, live a little more fully. The presenters tried to balance commercial information with medical explanation, and afterwards people could ask questions directly, though not everyone chose to.

Lunch was light and sensible—a relief, as heavy meals are the enemy of afternoon attention. The only absurdity was the wine price: £9.50 for a regular medium Pinto Gringo. But perhaps that’s simply the cost of conferences and business travel these days.

I love these slogans which were on the wall of the restaurant.

You are the designer of your own destiny
No act of kindness no matter how small is ever wasted
Making mistakes is better than faking perfection
Bette to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring
If opportunity doesn’t knock – build a door

One practical tip worth passing on: the hotel car park is run by an external company. If you don’t register your vehicle at reception, a £100 fine will arrive later, no matter how polite your protests. Thankfully, the receptionist helped me avoid that.

All in all, it was a worthwhile trip—useful, human, and quietly encouraging. The real value, I think, lay not in the presentations, but in the conversations that happened before and after, when people spoke honestly about what they hoped for and what they had experienced. That is where understanding happens.

And just for fun a pick of the day image from Larkhill in Bath