Holiday cottage anecdotes

Love a good holiday cottage.

Arrived at one this evening by the beach in New South Wales. Six hour drive, three generations of hungry humans ready for dinner.

I got the keys from the key box and … then proceeded to spend an hour failing to get any of the keys to open the screen door to access the front door. Phoned the managers who seemed to be unable to locate anyone who could help. Well not until five minutes after a pedal spanner and I, ably assisted by my wife wrenched the door open.

We always seem to have a fun start to our holidays.

I worked in a petrol station on the main road into Portsmouth many years ago – before SatNav was common – and a family of 6 in a Renault Espace towing a huge caravan pulled in at about 8pm. They were tired and irritable having drive for about 8 hours to get there and asked me the best route to Brixton Caravan Park. I had a look in the Portsmouth A-Z map which was kept behind the counter for these situations but there was nothing there.

I wondered about Brixton in London but guessed there wasn’t much caravanning around there so asked for any more details. The woman, who had been navigating while her husband drove, shared the booking letter that clearly said “Brixton Caravan & Camping, Plymouth”.

I pointed out that they were in Portsmouth, not Plymouth. It went quiet, very quiet.

^^ That reminds me of the story about Tara Parker-Tomkinson (IIRC). She got a taxi to take her to Stamford Bridge (to see Chelsea play football). Eventually, somewhere on the M1, she realised they might be going wrong – the driver was taking her to Stamford Bridge near York.

It may or may not be true – I’ll have to have a Google.

Aha! Wrong person, but here… (sorry for the Daily Mail link)

Probably bottom of the list was a charming beachide chalet / appartment that we rented a few years ago off AirBnB on the Baltic coast.

It was essentially a shanty lean-to constructed on top of a row of garages. For those from near Glasgow think Carbeth  hut (nut not a good one) plonked ontop of a row of concrete garages.

The owners had put a fair bit of effort in but there was definitely a lot of mould about that I seemed to have a bad allergy too so ended up sleeping outside on a hammock getting eaten by moquitos before giving up about 5 days in and getting a hotel.

Lesson learned: Look for what the AirBnB photos don’t show you.

Nothing major, but the last place we stayed in N Wales a couple of years ago had no bed linen, although it was meant to be included. We only found out when they rang, the day before, to confirm what time we were arriving. It meant that our car was filled with bedding for 5 almost fully grown people, rather than the holiday stuff that we were planning on taking. The mood of the holiday was set from that point.

The woman, who had been navigating while her husband drove, shared the booking letter that clearly said “Brixton Caravan & Camping, Plymouth”.

I worked in a research department where we had the top few percent of medical students doing a year with us and gaining a qualification in radiobiology. These were the brightest of the bright, which doesn’t explain why one, lets call him Bruce, went to visit one of my colleagues in Gillingham, Kent by taking the train to Gillingham, Dorset. (Pre-mobile, the directions were to go to the football ground and follow from there. Of course, Bruce couldn’t even find the football ground, being in the wrong county.) A year later, Harry let’s call him because that was his name, went on holiday to the Isle of Wight and was looking forward to driving around the circuit for the TT. 😀

We turned up to an AirBnB in Spain last year and found a filthy home – fridge full of rotting spilt milk, cigarette ashes and smoke everywhere, hairs and dirt everywhere. Within 5 minutes we were leaving and finding a hotel….We did not stay, and is the only holiday home we have refused – and only one of two we have not been happy with of dozens over the years.

The review he left us was brilliant 🤣

They left the house hanging all weekend. I guess they have bleach breakfast and they dine ammonia. They filed a claim against Airbnb for a claim that was unsubstantiated. Again, if you have any questions, please read the other reviews. Go to Scotland with carpeted bathrooms.

Carpeted bathrooms lol

I wondered about Brixton in London but guessed there wasn’t much caravanning around there

Not far away and still in Lambeth there is in fact quite a nice caravan site…
https://www.caravanclub.co.uk/club-sites/england/south-east-england/london/crystal-palace-club-campsite/

^^ That reminds me of the story…

I am sitting in a cafe in Aberfoyle. Hearse pulls up and driver asks for directions to Aberfeldy church.

AirBnB in Innerleithen. My girlfriend was there first and looked around. I got there and she told me it was great. There was a secure bike shed and a lock in it. Great, I thought put bikes in it, cable through the bikes and locked it all up.

Later that evening planning some maintenance, asked her where the key for the lock was. No idea. Called the host and the lock was nothing to do with them (at a guess, last occupants had forgotten it). So here we are, Friday night with a great weekend of uplift and then a day at Golfie planned and bikes securely locked together and to a ground anchor in the shed. I felt bloody stupid at this point.

Swift purchase of a hacksaw on Saturday morning saw the holiday back on track but I double check before locking anything up now.

Go to Scotland with carpeted bathrooms.

Whilst I don’t have carpeted bathrooms… have they not learned not to piss on the floor down south?

I am sitting in a cafe in Aberfoyle. Hearse pulls up and driver asks for directions to Aberfeldy church

I was an usher at my sister in law’s wedding down in Essex. One of the wedding cars took us (ushers, bridesmaids etc- all from different parts of the country) from the church to the reception at a large country house while other cars took the bride and groom and families and other guests made their own way.

We were dropped off outside and as we made our way around the back I mentioned how everybody seemed to have beaten us there.
Only as we walked into the marquee and saw the best man giving his speech did any of us realise we had been dropped at the wrong wedding reception. About 5 miles from where we should have been

These were the brightest of the bright, which doesn’t explain why one, lets call him Bruce, went to visit one of my colleagues in Gillingham, Kent by taking the train to Gillingham, Dorset.

Sounds suspiciously like my mate Patrick. Got a double first from Cambridge but still got a train to Woking to visit me in Wokingham.

AirBnB in Innerleithen. My girlfriend was there first and looked around. I got there and she told me it was great. There was a secure bike shed and a lock in it. Great, I thought put bikes in it, cable through the bikes and locked it all up.

Later that evening planning some maintenance, asked her where the key for the lock was. No idea. Called the host and the lock was nothing to do with them (at a guess, last occupants had forgotten it). So here we are, Friday night with a great weekend of uplift and then a day at Golfie planned and bikes securely locked together and to a ground anchor in the shed. I felt bloody stupid at this point.

Swift purchase of a hacksaw on Saturday morning saw the holiday back on track but I double check before locking anything up now.

Did you not think to ask on here?