Senior moment in Sligo
‘Lost in Sligo’ doesn’t have quite the ring of ‘Lost in France’ and I don’t think Bonnie Tyler has any plans to record it soon, but it was the theme of one of our elderly client’s recent coach holiday.
I am beginning to wonder if the lack of NHS geriatric care is the reason behind the apparently growing number of confused old people being booked onto coach holidays by relatives desperate for a break from the responsibility of looking after them.
Earlier in the year our client had been instructed to book himself onto a coach holiday by his son. The old boy had been planning to spend a month with said son, who lives in France, only to be told there was no ‘window for such a visit’ for a whole year and that it would be better for him to ‘book a couple of coach tours’ with Unicorn Holidays, which could pick him up from his door and deliver him back home again.
Thus, he had found himself in the Lake District in the spring. That trip had proved almost too much for his deteriorating mental state and he had been unable to remember where or when to pick up the coach for his return.
Eventually turning up to the pick-up point in his slippers, he was told he’d missed the coach home by half an hour.
His most recent trip with the same company was to Ireland. The courier had been warned about the client’s timekeeping, so when he failed to meet his fellow travellers at the appointed time after a visit to Sligo, she wasn’t overly concerned. But, after 45 minutes, the other passengers began moaning, she rang Unicorn managing director Colin.
“You can’t leave him lost in Sligo,” Colin said, and, knowing the old chap liked a drink, he suggested that she hail a taxi and drive around looking in the pubs.
“Do you have any idea how many pubs there are in Sligo?” she replied. “Every third building serves alcohol.”
Nevertheless, she found a taxi and embarked on the task, enlisting the help of the driver to look out for the old gent who was helpfully dressed in a bright orange anorak. “If you spot anyone who looks like a prisoner from Guantanamo, that’ll be him,” she said.
The taxi driver had a brainwave and contacted his colleagues with a description of the man they were looking for. Some time later, another driver called in, having spotted our client roaming the streets, dazed and confused. Needless to say, the old boy was relieved to have been found as he had no idea where he was.
Colin now has the unenviable task of telling the bloke that his trip to Russia will not be happening. It’s one thing to go astray in Sligo, but a wholly more terrifying prospect to be missing in Moscow.
Dairy farmer has a beef
With the disappearance of XL Leisure Group, half-term holidays have become even more difficult to find, as I tried to explain to a local farmer who wanted to get away with his two teenage children.
Even before the demise of XL Airways it would have been tricky to find something to suit his pocket, his budget being limited by a financially unsuccessful year in farming.
“The weather’s been so atrocious I practically have to wring the hay out with my hands,” he told me. “And on top of that, the price of milk has been dismal. These operators are taking the mickey, upping their prices for half term. It’s exploiting the likes of us that are having a hard time.”
“That’s capitalism for you,” I murmured, scrolling through some options. Every thing I offered was wrong. Either the flight times weren’t suitable or the resort didn’t have enough to interest teenagers. I told him to go home and that I’d call him if I found something better.
When I had found something I thought he’d like, I called his mobile. He answered, and I relayed the information.
The line was good, but, as I mentioned the price, I distinctly heard him shout “Get away! Get away!” And then, as the line began breaking up I could have sworn he used the word ‘cow’.
Well, I’m used to abuse, but I didn’t feel I deserved it on that occasion.
“I beg your pardon,” I said.
“Sorry, it’s a bit tricky at the moment,” came the reply, “I’m moving my cattle.”
Country life. You can’t beat it!
Maureen Hill works at Travel Angels, Gillingham, Dorset