There and back again
From the exotic wonders of the Far East I have returned to the welcoming bosom of the West and, as you may have noticed from the lines at the bottom of this column, I am now working at Wessex World in Gillingham, Dorset (not to be confused with Gillingham in Kent which is spelt the same but pronounced differently).
Gillingham is a delightful town serving a large rural community. The agency is in the middle of the High Street opposite the Post Office. I mention this only because Sal, one of my new colleagues on the counter, has found the positioning of the shop to be quite advantageous to trade; she once watched a woman claim her lottery winnings from the Instants desk in the Post Office and then hot-foot it across the road to book her holiday!
On the counter with me are Nigel (our boss), Jules and Jude. We are shortly to be joined by Penny who has been on maternity leave. It’s a busy shop with a diverse clientele.
Going for an Indian
After a busy morning, the afternoon brought a little respite and there was a lull between clients during which time I put my head down and got on with some paperwork. Sensing a presence above me, I looked up to see a row of serious, ten-year-old faces peering at me.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Yes”, replied one of the three teachers accompanying them, “the children have some questions they’d like to ask you about India.”
Nigel was sitting at the desk next to mine and I became horribly aware that I was going to be put to the test in front of my new boss. What were these children? Mini mystery shoppers, or what?! And of course they’d chosen a destination I’d never visited. All I know about India I have gleaned from the film Ghandi, a selection of novels and the ramblings of John Lennon. I flushed with anticipation at the questions.
The first little boy started with, “How do you get to India?” I breathed a sigh of relief. The questions that followed were of a similar degree of difficulty, regarding the weather, flying times and language and I was able to sound quite knowledgeable. It was not long before Nigel joined in with some expert observations based on his visit to India. One little lad was not content with our answers however and persisted in asking about the food.
Nigel told him that the people ate a largely vegetarian diet. “But do they eat Indian food?” the child continued to press.
Nigel described some of the dishes he had eaten whilst in the country but it clearly wasnt enough. It struck me that the little boy likely experience of Indian food was from the local takeaway; he probably thought that the people of India live on chicken tikka and onion bhajis served in foil containers too!
The group eventually trooped out and, some days later, we received a letter thanking us for helping them. A good start, I felt.
Let me entertain you
I was musing on the lack of unusual requests when a couple walked in to the shop. The wife sat down at Sal’s desk while the husband sat at mine. I heard the wife ask Sal to look for a holiday and wondered if perhaps they holidayed separately. I asked the husband how I could help him.
“Amuse me”, he said.
I must have looked blank as he repeated it, “Amuse me while the wife books the holiday.”
What could I do? With feet like mine dancing was out of the question, and anyone will tell you that I can’t sing for toffee, which just leaves the jokes. Well, I’ve never been good with comic timing and these days I simply don’t have the memory for the punchlines. This all left me staring blankly at him with an inane smile on my face. It seemed to work. Thankfully it wasn’t long before Sal had taken the wife’s money and they left. I was left wondering if I should get myself a little party trick – mind-reading might come in useful!
The locals are good sports
What I have discovered about Gillingham in the short space of time that I’ve been here is that the place is awash with the fit and active. The week had a sporting theme to it which began when Nigel hosted a lunch for selected clients at the rugby club.
The rugby ball gave way to sail when he was then called upon to arrange a yachting group for a yachting competition in Antigua. He sailed through that booking and swiftly moved on to the next request from a telephone client wanting to see a bullfight in Spain.
In the meantime, Sal was asked to book other clients who were seeking the thrill of the bull-run in Pamplona and I was educated in bores. That’s not meant as an insult; I’m talking small bores, twelve-bores, that sort of thing. My client wanted to get to the European Gun Competition south of Madrid. I managed this with the help of Edward of Kirker Holidays who wished our rifleman good luck. I went one further and said that Edward and I would meet him at the airport with a bottle of Bollinger if he wins.
It’s all the little extras
Are we all au fait with the new Thomson late-booking changes? I’m still struggling to understand the implications.
What I have deduced is that Thomson late availability is going to have to come with a warning to the effect that ‘This holiday could seriously harm your wealth’, what with the ú10 per person transfer fee and additional costs for children’s clubs.
Can we really market them as package holidays if the client is only entitled to part of the package? And can somebody please tell me what to say when I’m asked what a reduced rep service means. Shorter reps in resort? Or no free drink on arrival?
n Maureen Hill works at Wessex World Travel, Gillingham, Dorset