One of our brides, due to get married in Mauritius in eight weeks’ time, called in towards the end of the day looking anxious and a little flustered. When the shop had finally emptied of the remaining clients, Penny asked her what was troubling her.
“Have you told me absolutely everything about the wedding you have booked for me?” she asked, “You know, inoculations, blood tests and that sort of thing?”
“Yes,” replied Penny. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been speaking to someone who is getting married abroad and she’s been told that she has to have a pregnancy test on the day of the wedding. I know it’s silly, but I don’t want to start my special day like that.”
Penny reassured her that she would not be asked to undertake any such test, and added that the only ‘clear blue’ she would be seeing would be the crystal waters of the Indian Ocean lapping at her feet.
“If you want though, I’ll phone the operator just to put your mind at rest,” Penny said.
And so a call was put through to – wait for the irony – Virgin Weddings, and Penny got the lowdown. It was explained that women marrying in Mexico within a year of a divorce are obliged to take a pregnancy test on their wedding day. Something to do with the possibility that the ex-husband might yet be a daddy (clearly Mexican divorces are more amicable than most).
Such paternity issues are not the concern of the Mauritian authorities, however, and our bride is free not to fret.
Not quite Isle of Hawaii
We’ve had a number of foreign tourists in the shop and it’s good to be able to point them towards a local attraction or interesting stopover, especially if it’s a place I can offer first- or second-hand experience of.
With friends having recently visited the Isle of Wight and raved about it (apparently, it hasn’t all crumbled in to the sea yet) I thought it might provide an interesting stopover for an American couple.
“It’s just a short hop from the mainland,” I said. “The sailing’s great and Queen Victoria was a real fan.”
“Sounds charming,” said the man. “Can I book flights now?”
I think he thought it was the UK’s equivalent of Hawaii. I just hope he isn’t expecting a welcome from semi-clad native girls dressed in flower garlands – they’re not like that in Ventnor.
So much for the staycation
I imagine that whoever coined the term staycation is pleased with themselves. If only the concept worked. Feedback suggests that fighting the recession by holidaying in the UK is about as effective as fighting fire with unleaded petrol.
“I’ve never spent so much time travelling to a resort,” said the father of a family who had spent their holiday camping in Devon. “It took us seven hours to get to the campsite. If we’d gone to Spain, we’d have been ensconced in our hotel in half the time and I wouldn’t have high blood pressure from the road rage!
“The camping wasn’t that expensive, but we still had all our food and entertainment costs – and given the amount of indoor activities we had to pay for to escape the rain, that wasn’t cheap. By Wednesday of the second week, the kids were complaining of being cold, so we had to rent a cottage for the last few days,” he said.
“That does sound like bad luck,” I said. “If you’d had good weather, it would have worked, I suppose.”
“That’s just it. We’ve missed the sunshine. We spent too many days on damp British beaches when we should have been moaning about the heat.
“The wife says she doesn’t feel like she’s had a holiday, which is why I’m here now. We were wondering if you could sort something out for Christmas. Fuerteventura perhaps?”
“It’ll cost,” I warned.
“I’m past caring,” he said. “When you’ve spent as much time in chemical toilets as I have this summer, you know what’s worth paying for.”
Fond farewell to Aiden
By the time you read this, Aiden Walsh will have left Qantas Holidays to start a new life in Dubai.
Aiden will be sorely missed by people all over the country as he has spent the past eight years visiting agents and extolling the virtues of Qantas products. A key player in the company’s incentive programme, the guy has many admirers and is probably unaware of the trail of broken hearts he leaves in his wake.
Maureen Hill works at Travel Angels in Gillingham, Dorset