A holiday not to be forgotten

Dear Mr McGregor,

First let me say how much the family enjoyed those few days at your hotel. We are only sorry that you will not be able to accommodate us next season but unfortunately, according to your receptionist, you are fully booked for some time hence.

     That is a great disappointment, considering the marvellous stay we had at “Bluewaves”. However, it must be an encouraging situation for your good selves. You seemed to have a number of vacant rooms when we were there. Perhaps the economy really is set to pick up, as some predict.

    My wife mentioned on the telephone that we are returning your snooker balls plus table tennis set by courier. How they came to land up in our boot remains a mystery. The children deny all knowledge and I must accept their word, although I do appreciate that Mrs McGregor will be suspicious after the incident involving the shoes.

    Believe me. That was no more than an ill-conceived prank, collecting them from the corridors and mixing them up like that on the stairs and in the foyer. Yet, while the thought might be admirable, inviting guests to put their shoes out for cleaning is an old-fashioned practice I think you would do well to review.

    In our experience, this no longer happens at most holiday hotels (and, I assure you, we have stayed at a good few). The trend seems to be towards a small cleaning set, lodged in the cupboard where one keeps the spare blankets. It’s merely a suggestion.

    Of course, the matter might have come to nothing had the housekeeper not done herself an injury by falling down like that (How is she, by the way? We sent her flowers) and if the youngest – with the best motives in the world, I might add, which is why my wife was a bit sharpish with your good woman – had not undertaken the job of polishing them before her brothers threw them down the stairwell.

    Being a parent yourself, I imagine you will appreciate that four-year-olds are too immature to know that one should not apply boot polish to suede leather, but that is Melissa’s nature. She will make someone an excellent wife some day, she has this absolute fetish about polishing things.

    And colouring things, for that matter. That, of course, would explain the rather unfortunate development on the Thursday afternoon when you were showing the “Creatures of the Lost Lagoon” DVD which, incidentally, we did not think suitable for young children and we were not surprised when Melissa left.

    Even so, we misunderstood her completely when she announced that she was going off to “paint the porch”.

    Both my wife and myself interpreted that to mean that Melissa was intent on altering the colours on the front of the doll’s house she was given last Christmas, perhaps using her paint-by-numbers set.

    We certainly were not apprised of the fact that the gentleman in Bungalow 3 owned a car of such manufacture, or we might have immediately been suspicious.

    Nor did we realise that our daughter would have ready access to the materials with which (if I may say so) you maintain the “Bluewaves” pool in such exceptional condition.

    It may be of some consolation to the person involved to consider that he must now the most waterproof vehicle in the country, but I would urge that you get your staff to put a lock on that shed.

    On the subject of presents, our eldest assures us that he acted entirely without malice when he went to practise his new trumpet that night behind the ladies’ powder-room. He says when he blew down the overflow duct, it was merely as an experiment in resonance and he had no idea anybody was “ensconced”.

    Still, I imagine Mrs Clifford sees the funny side of it by now.

    My son also asks me to apologise on his behalf for his language to you in the affair over the pedal-boat. Normally, he never uses those terms. Indeed, we were not aware that words like those were part of his vocabulary.

    Gary says it was a reaction to having been called a “bloody Vaalie” but I myself believe his response was out of genuine fear, considering how far out to sea he was when he decided to  “abandon ship” , as he puts it. The redeeming aspect of it all is that he is a reasonable swimmer.

    My son also says – and I think he has a point – that if it is the rule of the hotel that those craft should not be employed beyond the mouth of the lagoon, you should have a large notice up somewhere to that effect.

    Did you manage to get it back, by the way? Although, of course, you are bound to be insured against that sort of thing.

   I trust your electricity will have been restored by this time, and the other repairs done. I am not an expert in these matters, and it is probably none of my business, but if I were you I would get somebody to have a look at the wiring.

    It seems ridiculous to me that an entire hotel should lose its power because a small metal spaceship becomes jammed in a light socket. And my friends tell me the fire would never have happened if you had installed an adequate “earth leakage” system.

    Once again, sir, let me express our sincere regret that you will not have room for us next year.

 Yours etc.

P. S. We will certainly try again closer to the time, in case there should be any cancellations. The prospect of another holiday at “Bluewater” is too good to be missed.