Trifter

My parents went to Rome every year for my mother’s birthday to celebrate with their friends there. Basically, this was a routine trip, but still I thought I would check a few things before they left that day. I checked that my mother had both their passports and the flight tickets, their medicines, vitamin supplements and other essentials. Satisfied, I drove them over to the airport.

My mother had insisted on going early not to be hassled. As we arrived at the airport, she sent me off, because they would go through immediately to the little café in the duty free area, which my mother preferred to the restaurant in the public zone. So off I went.

They went to the check-in counter of Swiss to be told that the passport of my father’s was out of date by nine months and therefore not valid anymore. But a nice person from Swiss customs took it and went with my father to make a provisional prolongation. Meanwhile my mother was transferred to another counter to proceed with check-in.

It seemed to my mother to take an extraordinarily long time, and the lady behind the counter was typing away like mad. My mother held her peace therefore and let her do her work, as she knew that they were too early anyhow. My father came back with his validated passport before the check-in had been completed, and after they proceeded to the café.

They arrived on time in Rome and took the cab to the Hotel Victoria, where they always stayed. The receptionist greeted them by name having worked there longer than my parents where regular guests. He handed my father the little questionnaire to fill in and started to type into his computer. He then brought my parents up to the usual room they always occupied during their stay.

After he left, the manager of the hotel knocked and came in to greet them. When he left, the chambermaid came in to take away the bedspreads and to put little chocolates on the pillows. After her followed the second chambermaid who took out the soap that that had been in the bathroom and replaced them with my mother’s favourite soap. After her came the waiter from the restaurant in the hotel with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses, and a card from the manager wishing my mother a happy birthday. After the waiter the chambermaid came again with a bouquet of flowers with a card attached from the owner of the hotel, wishing my mother a happy birthday.

When there was finally peace in the room, my mother started to think about it all. It all seemed so much hassle this year as opposed to last year. Maybe travelling was getting a bit much at 76. But she just went on to telephone her friends to tell them that they were safely arrived. When her friend said ‘oh, you are already here’ my mother started to realize that something was amiss. ‘Already?’ she asked, and was told that she had said to arrive the next day.

So my parents had gone off one day too early. I hadn’t checked if they had booked for the day mother told me. Neither had I checked the validity of their passports. My check list for my parents’ travels became much longer after this adventure.

What really impressed me was that neither the airline nor the hotel even batted a lid at my parents arriving at their gates a day early. They just complied and delivered. Perfect service rendered, though it left my mother in a puzzle for some time to figure out why everything seemed so strange.