The Morris family holiday – Part Three, Arriving
We all sat on the airplane without talking to each other, based on the events up to this point we thought it best to keep a low profile on the flight. A small part of me was pleased about this as it meant that I could read my book with no distractions. When the hostess trolley came by I decided to deny myself a mini can of lager mainly because it feels like the entire crew is watching us. They have been warned.
We land at Grenoble airport and sail through passport control. The whole family is relieved to leave the reputation we earned so quickly when we arrived at the airport in England. I instantly feel more relaxed and settle into my ‘I am on holiday’ mode. This generally involves me giving up all responsibility for myself and entrusting my actions on to strangers.
“Excuse me, where is carrousel B?” I am stood next to carrousel A which is next to B.
“Excuse me, my skis haven’t come off the plane” They are in the oversized area with everyone else’s skis just like every year.
“Excuse me, I am on holiday do you know what chalet I am staying in?” “No I don’t know what company I am on holiday with, my wife booked it?”
“Excuse me, do you know where my wife is?”
“Excuse me, which coach is going to Meribel?” It has taken me so long to get to the stage where I am ready to get on the coach it is the only one in the car park.
Fortunately my ‘holiday mode’ allows me to board the coach, and, with big smiles I fail to notice the steely stares of the other guests. Later on my wife tells me about the embarrassment of sitting on the coach listening to comments such as “there is always one idiot who gets lost”. I repeat this incident when we stop halfway for a toilet break.
This year none of our friends wanted to come on holiday with us. I expect that they are busy or may not be able to afford it this year. My wife has a different theory based on the incident last year that happened in our chalet that involved me sleep walking and the chalets host. I put it down to my wife’s insistence on calling the chalet hosts, chalet maids. One was called Ben. This lack of friends meant that we were sharing a chalet with unknowns.
We were booked into a twelve bed chalet, therefore we make up one third of the occupants. To my wife’s delight the other guests are already there, so know little about my inability to board a coach. They comprise of two other families with children of similar age. The other two families have known each other for approximately two hours more than we have known them. I am keen to get the families equipment sorted at the hire shop. I am always paranoid that they will run out of boots. The other guests insist that we all share a welcome glass of wine before going. They had already got theirs, I manage to hide my impatience.
As I have my own kit, this makes me the family expert. Throughout our time in the hire shop I am always on hand to offer my opinion and override any advice the shop staff have that I disagree with. My youngest is fussy when it comes to choosing boots. Last year we had to return to the shop eleven times. We were the last people in the shop, even the rest of our family had gone back to the chalet. I assume this was so they could constantly text me that dinner time was fast approaching. My Son finally chooses the first pair of boots that he tried, I knew that we would be back at the hire shop before the week was over.
Back at the chalet dinner had been postponed by forty minutes. Fortunately when we arrive back the wine had been flowing and everyone was in high spirits. I make our apologies and pour myself a glass of wine. Dinner is served. As we all are strangers dinner starts with small talk and the conversation flows well enough. The starters are cleared and long silence falls over the dinner table. Suddenly it is broken by one of the other guests.
“Did you hear about the man who got lost at the airport and held his coach up for over an hour?”