MAUREEN THE TRAVEL INDUSTRY’S FAVOURITE COLUMNIST
Under the weather
Sniff, sniff, sneeze, sneeze,
cough, splutter, gulp. These are
the sounds currently providing
a backdrop for our working day
as customers call in to the shop
to pick up brochures and to
generously spread their germs.
Many of them have come direct
from the clinic at the end of the
road where the fl u vaccines are
being administered. Our place
seems to be the fi rst port of call as
the newly vaccinated decide they
would like to be somewhere sunny
for the winter months.
I’ve started to compile a list of
their priorities: warmth is obviously
top, but then comes ballroom
dancing, followed by bridge, bowls
and English-speaking medical staff.
According to the sums presented to
me by one couple, it is still cheaper
for pensioners to travel abroad than
to stay at home and pay for central
heating and a recent ‘Holiday Cost
of Living’ survey bears this out. Its
cheapest destination, however, was
Goa, rather than the Spanish and
Portuguese resorts our older folk
are so fond of, and I’d hazard a
guess that there isn’t a great deal of
bridge to be played there.
One couple who sneezed their
way into the shop told us it was
their fi rst chance to see us since
their return from Sorrento in
October. They’d had a lovely
holiday, marred only by the thinness
of the hotel room walls.
“I’m all for romance,” said the
woman, “but I don’t want to hear
it with digital clarity through wafer-
thin divides!”
She went on to add that they
had both caught colds.
“I think we got them from the
fl ight,” her partner said, “because
they’re constantly recirculating stale
air and other people’s infections.”
She hadn’t looked like a rubber fetishist when
she’d come in to book her cruise some months
before, but who’s to say what a rubber fetishist
looks like in the hours of daylight? www.travelweekly.co.uk
32 | Travel Weekly | November 21 2008
“That may all be set to
change,” I replied with all the
authority that comes from
one who has read the Sunday
papers from front page to
back. “Apparently, the airline
industry has commissioned a
study into fi ltering the onboard
airfl ow system and adding an
antibacterial substance originating
from bees. Who knows, maybe
infl ight airborne infections will
become a thing of the past.”
“How long’s that going to take?”
asked the chap. “And who’s going to
pay for it? They’ll pass the costs on
to us. They’ll lose a few seats to make
way for the air-conditioning unit and
we’ll all be charged a supplement for
the sanitised air. We’ll literally be
paying for the air we breathe!”
“If it’s cheaper to catch the cold
would that be your preferred
solution?” I asked, before
suggesting he put his complaints
into writing and dose himself up
with a whisky and hot lemon.
“I can’t afford whisky,” he
retorted grumpily.
“Well then, perhaps you could
share a Lemsip with your wife?”
The woman glared at me. “I am
not his wife,” she said emphatically.
Who said romance was dead!
A rubber solution
On a similar theme, another client
phoned me with panic in her voice.
“Should I get some latex gloves?”
she asked. I was stumped for a
moment, wondering what could be
MAUREEN
at the root of her call. She hadn’t
looked like a rubber fetishist when
she’d come in to book her cruise
some months before, but who’s to
say what a rubber fetishist looks like
in the hours of daylight?
“I’m sorry,” I said, “what would
you need latex gloves for?”
“Because of the norovirus!”
It turned out she had heard there
had been some instances of winter
vomiting on board the ship she was
set to sail on at the weekend.
“I’m terrifi ed of catching it,” she
said. “I’m no good around people
who are throwing up. I don’t want
to pick up the germ from any door
knobs on the ship so I thought latex
gloves would be best.”
“It would certainly be one way to
minimise the risk,” I agreed.
“And the other is to make sure
you thoroughly steam oysters. Do
you think the chefs know that?”
“I’m sure the kitchen staff and
crew are aware of the best ways to
avoid transmission,” I said, “and
you mustn’t let your anxieties spoil
your trip. The latex gloves might be
a little over the top, though, and
could give people the wrong idea.”
She looked at me dubiously.
“You’re right. They might think I’m
a nurse and I don’t want to attract
the sick and affl icted. Perhaps I’ll
just take some alcohol gel.”
“Alcohol,” I said, “always the best
solution.”
Maureen Hill works at Travel Angels,
Gillingham, Dorset
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