Mr. Waffle and I went to a travel agent for the first time in many years recently. We wanted to check availability of ski holidays for this year and our internet research was proving a little difficult.
The woman tittered (oh yes she did) when she heard that we were thinking about booking something for this year. The first week we suggested was all booked up. “It’s too late, forget it”, she said gloomily [don’t they get a commission, for God’s sake?]. We persisted. She sighed audibly. “How about the week of March 22?” I said. She raised what was left of her eyebrows and tapped her long manicured fingers on the desk, “Ah March 22, you might get something it’s so late, but there will be no snow”.
“Could you try it all the same?”
“Oh but it’s EASTER” she said contemptuously having peered at her calendar, “there will be nothing”.
Maybe some snow after all then. There was one one star apartment left which, she said, she would very much advise against taking, particularly with a family.
We left in a huff. She smiled merrily. Another victory for Belgian customer service. If we can’t find anything, the Princess will murder us. She and I have been looking at children skiing on youtube and she fancies the notion of herself whizzing down the slopes.