Holidays Out
I know already that you've never been there on holiday, but I shall cunningly disguise its identity to protect myself.
The first two letters are the first two letters of SLUG. And then the next four letters are the last four letters of ROUGH. But you pronounce it as in a cry of pain. Which is ironically appropriate.
We had two actors booked in Car Park View, an overpriced hotel there, for Wednesday night. Sixty-five quid bed and breakfast. Flaming rip-off but this is the South-East of England which is special because - - er - - I forget.
On Tuesday afternoon a chap from Car Park View rang me.
"I'm ringing to ask whether you still want your two rooms for tomorrow night."
"Yes, we do, and we've guaranteed them by credit card. Why do you ask?"
"Er - - I'm not sure."
On Tuesday afternoon, two hours later, a chap from Car Park View rang me.
"I'm ringing to ask whether you still want your two rooms for tomorrow night."
"Yes, we do, and we've guaranteed them by credit card. Why do you ask?"
"Er - - I'm not sure."
Rather dull, I know, having almost an exact repetition of the same paragraph. Imagine how I felt.
On Wednesday morning, the same chap from Car Park View rang us.
"You had two people booked in for last night. They didn't turn up and we'll have to charge you in full."
It was hard to answer because my mind was dwelling on Bill Bryson's glorious phrase "thick as pig dribble" but I managed it.
"TONIGHT. THE BOOKING IS FOR TONIGHT."
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah. I'll ring you back."
He rang me back. The news was not good, and yet somehow not unexpected.
"We've given your rooms to somebody else. We thought your booking was for last night."
I tried silence to see what would happen next.
"But we've transferred your booking to Skidmark Towers down the road. You'll need to send them a fax."
"Goodbye."
I looked up Skidmark Towers on t'interclacker and read a few reviews. "Damp bed - - cobwebs - - didn't like to touch anything - - "
I racked my brains to see if Ruth and Alastair, the two lucky actors involved, had ever done anything to offend me mightily. Sadly, they hadn't, so I thought I'd better find them somewhere else to stay.
There was nowhere, because nobody wants to stay in that town anyway. Ruth suggested to me, eventually, that as they were working the next day in a hotel that's part of a big chain, we could try there.
So I rang the Holiday Out (another cunning disguise, you notice) and asked them if they had two rooms. They had just had two cancellations! Fantastic! I asked them How Much.
"One hundred and sixty-nine pounds each, including breakfast."
Musing quietly on the delightful Lake District or Yorkshire Dales bed and breakfasts I've stayed in for thirty quid, I booked it.
Speaking very carefully, I said "And I want to PAY for the rooms on this credit card, NOT JUST RESERVE THEM. How do I do that?"
"You'll need to send us a fax with the room reference and the date and the last four digits of your credit card and the names of the guests and this coming Saturday's winning lottery numbers."
I sent the fax, and all went well for nearly three hours, until Alastair arrived there.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Daphne, but they say the room's not paid for."
"I sent them a fax earlier."
"They don't seem to have it."
I sent it again and all went well for nearly an hour, until Ruth arrived there.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Daphne, but they say the room's not paid for."
"Tell her to look at the fax machine. There'll be a fax in it. From me."
Oh yes, a superior standard of service. That's what the hundred and sixty-nine quid's for.
The first two letters are the first two letters of SLUG. And then the next four letters are the last four letters of ROUGH. But you pronounce it as in a cry of pain. Which is ironically appropriate.
We had two actors booked in Car Park View, an overpriced hotel there, for Wednesday night. Sixty-five quid bed and breakfast. Flaming rip-off but this is the South-East of England which is special because - - er - - I forget.
On Tuesday afternoon a chap from Car Park View rang me.
"I'm ringing to ask whether you still want your two rooms for tomorrow night."
"Yes, we do, and we've guaranteed them by credit card. Why do you ask?"
"Er - - I'm not sure."
On Tuesday afternoon, two hours later, a chap from Car Park View rang me.
"I'm ringing to ask whether you still want your two rooms for tomorrow night."
"Yes, we do, and we've guaranteed them by credit card. Why do you ask?"
"Er - - I'm not sure."
Rather dull, I know, having almost an exact repetition of the same paragraph. Imagine how I felt.
On Wednesday morning, the same chap from Car Park View rang us.
"You had two people booked in for last night. They didn't turn up and we'll have to charge you in full."
It was hard to answer because my mind was dwelling on Bill Bryson's glorious phrase "thick as pig dribble" but I managed it.
"TONIGHT. THE BOOKING IS FOR TONIGHT."
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah. I'll ring you back."
He rang me back. The news was not good, and yet somehow not unexpected.
"We've given your rooms to somebody else. We thought your booking was for last night."
I tried silence to see what would happen next.
"But we've transferred your booking to Skidmark Towers down the road. You'll need to send them a fax."
"Goodbye."
I looked up Skidmark Towers on t'interclacker and read a few reviews. "Damp bed - - cobwebs - - didn't like to touch anything - - "
I racked my brains to see if Ruth and Alastair, the two lucky actors involved, had ever done anything to offend me mightily. Sadly, they hadn't, so I thought I'd better find them somewhere else to stay.
There was nowhere, because nobody wants to stay in that town anyway. Ruth suggested to me, eventually, that as they were working the next day in a hotel that's part of a big chain, we could try there.
So I rang the Holiday Out (another cunning disguise, you notice) and asked them if they had two rooms. They had just had two cancellations! Fantastic! I asked them How Much.
"One hundred and sixty-nine pounds each, including breakfast."
Musing quietly on the delightful Lake District or Yorkshire Dales bed and breakfasts I've stayed in for thirty quid, I booked it.
Speaking very carefully, I said "And I want to PAY for the rooms on this credit card, NOT JUST RESERVE THEM. How do I do that?"
"You'll need to send us a fax with the room reference and the date and the last four digits of your credit card and the names of the guests and this coming Saturday's winning lottery numbers."
I sent the fax, and all went well for nearly three hours, until Alastair arrived there.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Daphne, but they say the room's not paid for."
"I sent them a fax earlier."
"They don't seem to have it."
I sent it again and all went well for nearly an hour, until Ruth arrived there.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Daphne, but they say the room's not paid for."
(That one of the Ten Commandments about not killing people. Is it always correct, I wonder?)
"Tell her to look at the fax machine. There'll be a fax in it. From me."
Oh yes, a superior standard of service. That's what the hundred and sixty-nine quid's for.
posted by Daphne at 8:05 pm
4 Comments:
That 169 quid didn't even include car parking, let alone a standard chain-hotel-issue pack of two biscuits in the room - in fact in my room there was only some nasty looking UHT milk, skinny coffee sachets and one sachet of hot chocolate - I don't drink any hot drinks so this didn't exactly bother me but I would have liked to have had the option of drinking more than one cup of hot chocolate and as there were two double beds in the room (I personally have only ever managed to sleep in one bed at a time so this was completely wasted on me) I figure the room might conceivably have been occupied by more than one person at a time, all of whom might have wanted a disgusting sachet of instant hot chocolate... well they'd have been out of luck. There wasn't even the option of spending huge amounts of extra money on drinks from a mini bar because there was no mini bar, fridge, fruit or any extras you might expect for 169 pounds. Even the TV had fewer channels than I had in the Travel Inn (whoops I should have said Journey Out) the following night. But thanks Daphne, it was still an awful lot better than the horrible sounding alternative hotel or sleeping in my car. Still I'm glad to be home now.
Slough Travelodge - £60 for 2.
Might be spartan but holy rip-off Batman. £169 is astronomical for a room such as they got.
Are you sure you didn't fax them a timeshare agreement, Daphne ???
Ian (in sunny Florida - sorry, can't help myself)
Ah, I'd tried the Travelodge but it's booked up several years ahead, being the only place in the area that's clean and doesn't require a re-mortgage to stay there.
Kind of you to remind us where you're writing from, Ian. Enjoy the sunshine. Not that we're bitter or anything.
Ahhh
Just got back from North Wales.
First night was a pretty single room in a farmhouse. Tea and buttered bara brith on arrival, a selection of teas, coffee, choc, etc and butter biscuits in the room (ok, not ensuite) and a massive full cooked breakfast in the morning. last night, single room in the middle of Wrexham, lots of teabags and sachets, and another full cooked breakfast.
Price? £25 quid per night.
Pity you don't have any work in that neck of the woods!
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