Anonymous - 25/08/2010 16:06 GMT
As regular readers will have noticed, this column is written by two people. And while we both have punishing schedules, weight issues, gold cards with all the major hotel programmes and difficulty reconciling personal relationships with our business commitments, we differ in a number of crucial respects. Most notably – I am a man, she is a woman. The second – I have kids, she does not.
Last month’s column by my esteemed colleague, “Baby blues”, had something of a polarising effect:
http://www.businesstraveller.com/news/frequent-traveller-baby-blues
The title gives a hint to the nature of the offence, as did her “special request to parents travelling with their children – strap them in and shut them up”.
I have to defend her as the said article was not, as some have suggested, a diatribe against children, but against parents – more specifically, “the school-dodging parent”, “the hard of hearing parent” and “the make-yourself-at-home parent”. I did feel sorry for her after reading some of the comments – “It would seem to me that you are married to your job and probably have no children, no personal life, but a nice pocketbook, luggage and apartment that you never see.”
Having just returned from the family’s summer holiday (long haul, in economy), I felt her pain in many respects, although as a parent I tend to think the most sympathy should be kept for those chaperoning the little ones, not those who have left them at home or never had them in the first place.
It’s hard enough checking your emails while walking through an airport without having to keep your eye on two hyperactive children playing dodgems on airport trolleys. And, for the record, putting stickers on the handles forbidding kids from riding on them has the opposite effect. It’s as useful as explaining that the baggage carousel isn’t some kind of horizontal hamster wheel invented for their entertainment. I thought the appearance of the first bags would put them off, but they just treated them as hurdles.
The flight over wasn’t as bad as it might have been. Yes, the heavy-drinking lady in front did recline her seat with such violence that my seven-year-old boy might have suffered concussion. I say might because he seems to be permanently dazed, so it’s hard to judge. But the irony was that when he yelled out in pain she snarled that she would “appreciate it if I would keep my son under control so he didn’t bang the back of her seat”. Her partner apologised, and then they sat in silence for the rest of the flight while we laughed like drains at Ice Age 2.
As it was the summer holidays, there was no problem with the children’s misbehaviour at the hotel. At least half the place was occupied by families, and guests without kids never left their rooms, relying on room service, tranquillisers and ear plugs. But it’s not other travellers I feel sorry for, it’s the staff. Highly trained and used to dealing with sophisticated couples and time-strapped business people, they suddenly have to become family entertainers. As for the housekeepers – I imagine they fight to take this time off rather than deal with the pigsties they face.
My wife and I had our own solution to that problem – we took two interconnecting rooms, having given up on cramming us all into one. It’s hard enough sharing a decent-sized family house with them, let alone one room. The last time we tried it we spent most of the time on the balcony being bitten by mosquitos while the kids rewired the entertainment system. Besides, independence is important for children, and so we let them sort out their own room – and after they slammed the connecting door several times a minute for the first hour, we simply locked it and hid the key, forcing them to use the corridor. Quieter for us, noisier for anyone else staying on the seventh floor.
I don’t know what it is about key cards but we certainly eroded the hotel’s profit margin that week with the number we lost. I know they are endlessly fascinating things but I did find it dispiriting that having explained for the 17th time that they didn’t open anyone else’s door, my daughter insisted on trying every one she passed. Eventually she pushed against one that wasn’t properly closed and it burst open. Her look of triumph was worth seeing, but not as much as the faces of the couple whose afternoon “nap” we disturbed.
Still, all good things come to an end. The flight back was uneventful because we all slept. Well, my wife and I did. I’ve no idea about the kids. And there was a nice surprise when we got home. My wife couldn’t believe how neatly our son had packed his bag and how clean his clothes were. Then she realised why. He’d never opened it. No wonder the one outfit he wore was so filthy. Saved on the washing though.
