My grandson came to see me recently, clutching a postcard featuring an eagle with a bewildered-looking Scottish fish in its claws.
“That’s nice,” I said. “What is it?”
“It’s a postcard,” he replied, completely bypassing the image. “People sometimes send them when they’re on holiday if they can’t get a signal for their mobile phone or if they run out of credit.”
Ah, the workings of the 21st century mind! But the child has a point.
Communication from abroad has changed in the past decade and it’s a wonder the postcard hasn’t become obsolete.
When my son went travelling, it was great to have the immediacy of e-mail to take away the sting of his absence; I don’t think I could bear to wait for the postman (and what a wait it might be, now!) with out-of-date news scribbled on the back of some naff image of a donkey (the donkey was always a good choice, covering, as it does, many different countries – it was only ever the postmark that betrayed its nationality).
But there is such a thing as too much information, and the pressure to be ‘across it’ can be tough.
Take the lunch I had with friends of the family the other week. Their grown-up daughter and her husband are on a three-month roadtrip across the US. All the contacts in my friends’ email address book have been issued with the blogspot address with the clear expectation that we will all follow the trip avidly.
When you don’t know your blogspot from your wordpress, this can cause mild embarrassment.
The lunch was like an A-level oral exam, with questions about the daughter’s progress being fired at me like bullets.
Eyebrows were raised when I was forced to confess that I hadn’t read about her favourite ‘prebooked hotel’ or ‘random motel’, and I felt positively ashamed when I was unable to answer what their favourite meal had been.
See what I mean? Too much information. You’d never get that sort of stuff on the back of a postcard.
When I got home that evening, having quite definitely scored an ‘F’, I logged on and checked out the roadtrip blog. It seemed largely concerned about the difficulties they’d had finding wifi access that would enable them to post their blog.
It struck me that the point of the trip was being lost on them. There didn’t seem to be much time for, oh, what do you call it fun? And the photos. Endless ‘pictures from the road’ and ‘rainy nights in Georgia’. Frankly, I’ll take the donkey every time.
- Read TW web editor Nathan Midgley’s reply (on a blog)
A passionate Rendevous
Cadogan Holidays celebrated its 60th anniversary in London and invited its top agents to join them. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be there, but I hear that a good time was had by all and the celebratory champagne flowed nicely.
My sources inform me that Cadogan’s star performer, Danny Joel, looked every inch the leading man in his tux, complete with dicky bow, shiny shoes and a chest puffed out with the self-assurance of a man who moisturises.
His ego was soon deflated, however, when Gabbi from Rendezvous Travel, approached him from side on and mistook him for a waiter. “Make mine a large one,” was not the conversation opener he’d anticipated.
Gabbi was mortified when she realised her mistake and, by way of an apology, went to give him a friendly kiss.
Danny however, has been kissed by Gabbi before. That time, she’d been wearing plumping lip gloss and the merest hint of it as she grazed Danny’s lips had made them swell like an inflatable life raft .
To avoid a recurrence of the allergic reaction, he spun round, forcing Gabbi to kiss the back of somebody else’s dinner jacket, which she described as most unrewarding.
The evening held a far greater reward, however, for one lucky lady who won the prize draw: a sparkling diamond. I say, let’s have more of these diamond anniversary celebrations; 60 rocks!
New year, NuBeginnings
As folk start to make plans for Christmas, I received information about the perfect post-festivity break.
Ilfracombe may not sound like a glamorous destination, but it’s home to the sort of holistic retreat that could get you looking presentable again. NuBeginnings offers a boutique weight loss centre with organic eating, yoga, coastal walks, spa and hypnotherapy experiences.
Given that I generally start the new year heavier, more stressed and with bigger eye bags, I’m going to put a stay with the team there at the top of my Christmas list.
Maureen Hill works at Travel Angels in Gillingham, Dorset