I hate Trailfinders. Well, let me reconsider that. This morning I hated Trailfinders. I’m getting over it now. I’ll probably be friends with them again by tomorrow.
I called them this morning, full of breezy joy, to confirm my flight to Sydney. Sandy the sales agent and I chit-chatted about beaches and barbies. Then she casually mentioned a price that was £200 more than the price that her colleague told me yesterday. I attempted to set her straight but she was adamant. She suggested that I might be confused. That riled me. I told her that I had it all written down: the fare, the flight details, the booking reference – everything. I pointed out to her that I had made all my travel plans on the basis of the quoted fare and that Nick had gone ahead and booked internal flights and so on.
I cannot possibly ask Mr P to pay more for my ticket than he’s already agreed to.
In the end she admitted that her colleague had quoted me the wrong price. She said that she was sorry but there was nothing they could do about it.
So we cancelled that and went back to the beginning. Sandy searched for any other flight that would get me to Sydney in time to catch that flight to Hobart. I have to say, she worked diligently on my behalf. She did find another flight, with a much longer route, on an inferior airline.
It departs on Christmas eve and arrives on Boxing day. How strange. Christmas won’t be cancelled it will simply cease to exist.
I need to remember how lucky I am. All my friends will be spending Christmas day in the London drizzle. And after all, what do I care for Christmas? I’ve got everything I need. Santa has already been.