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Tuesday, 24 April 2012

Why Can't They Make Up Their (little) Minds

My Beloved planned to fly back to the UK in August and had graciously aquiesced to allow me to accompany her a wee bit later in September (our Spring Break Holiday), then we would fly back together.

She had originally wanted to go back in December (our Long Summer Holiday, 6 weeks) but I had screamed begged put my foot down, as I had absolutely no inclination to experience another Scottish winter. (See I miss NZ and other posts around this period.)

Never again

So we booked and paid for the flights.  Cost about $3000 each (economy, Qantas)

So all was set.


We got the news in March that my lovely daughter was now expecting, and that changed things.

My Beloved went into hyper-broody mode. Knitting hats, socks, jumpers and woolys of all description, in preparation for the great day.

And she made plans.

Her plans had plans .

Her plans had plans which had plans, all based on a hidden agenda.

She wanted my lovely daughter to come to NZ to be with us.

So she decided that this was what would occur.

I wouldn't go to the UK, but she would go in October, and abandon me for 2 MONTHS, so she could look after our wee dear in Scotland, cook for her, make lots of little treats, and generally treat her as a princess.

My wee Princess
Then the money saved from my ticket would help pay for my lovely wee daughter and the lovely wee babe to fly out to NZ in February, where they could both be given the utmost in pampered care.  My lovely wee daughter's husband could, probably would, come out later.

All clear.


So last week I started the process of cancelling and changing the flights.

We were booked seperately because of the different times we originally wanted to fly out, so I cancelled my flight first.

No real problem, except for the cancellation cost of nearly $300.  *sob*

Then I changed her flight to the new dates.  I was on the phone to Expedia for almost 1½ hours trying to get the change through to comply with her wishes, but finally I succeeded at another cost of $60.  *small sob *

So all was set.


Then my beloved came to me as I was relaxing with a rather large and restorative Whisky and said:

My Beloved (MB): "Dear?"  (Every bloke knows that tone of voice.  Wheedling and irritating)
Me: "Yes my Darling" (Nauseating I know, but needful)

MB: "Which airline am I booked on now?"
Me: "Qantas my Dear, same as before" (Which is why it was only a $60 change fee)

MB: "I don't like Qantas", "They're racist"
Me: "What?"

MB: "They're a bunch of rude racist Aussies, I don't want to fly with them"
Me: *stares goggle-eyed at my Beloved* "Eh?"

MB: "last time I flew on my own, they wouldn't serve me, and one of the Aussie b*tches shouted at me because I asked for some boiling water for the hot water bottle I was using on my back"
Me: "Are you sure my Dear?"

MB: %%#$%^^&**  %^&%$##&*&&   "&&&**%%$##"
Me: "Oh"

*long pause while I sip gulp the amber nectar*

Me: "Well, in that case, I'd better change it my Dear"
MB: "Yes please"  "NOW"

Me: "Yes my Darling"

After another 2 hours on the phone, I'd managed to change the flight to another carrier, Singapore Airlines, which are definitely NOT racist.

Cost; $300  for cancellation of the original changed Qantas booking, PLUS another $600 for the difference in fares. *Big sob*

Me: "All done Dear"
MB "You took your time, didn't you?"

*exceptionally long suffering look to the dog, which ignored me and continued gnawing my slipper*

Me "Yes Dear" (God, I'm really a wimp sometimes)

Never mind, all was now set.


Next day.

MB: "Darling?" (OH DEAR GOD, WHAT NOW?)
Me: "Yes my Dear?"

MB: "I've been thinking" (OH SHIT...the end of the universe is fast approaching)
Me: *cautiously* "Yes Dear?"

MB: "If the new flights are so expensive, why don't you look at some other alternatives" (Unspoken; "Why didn't you do this before")
Me: *incrediously* "What?"

Me: "Yes Dear" (in a broken, plaintive, but curiously dignified voice)

After another 2 hours on the web, searching for ANYTHING that might fit.

Me: "I think there's two alternatives my Beloved"
MB: "Hmm?"

Me: "Either cancel the last-changed flight and rebook with Air New Zealand or?'
MB: "Or what?"

Me: "Or you could fly over there on your own little broomstick dear"
(I didn't actually say that, just thought it.  Lovingly)
Me : "Or cancel and rebook on Singapore Air ourselves" "It'll save about $400"

MB: "I think Air New Zealand then."
Me: "Yes my Dear, I'll get right on it"

1½ hours later.

Me: "Right Dear, I've cancelled the booked changed booked flight (another $300), and I'm just about to confirm the flight with Air New Zealand"
MB: "Hmm"

Me: "WHAT?"
MB: "I've been thinking" (Will there ever be an end to this f*cking nightmare?)

Me: ""WHAT?"
MB: "I think I should fly with their Premium Economy" "As it will only be me, it won't cost too much"

At this point I would like to state categorically that I really do love my Beloved.  But to quote a Yorkshireman I met in a pub, "they can make it awfully hard"

I should also like to point out that I have suggested many times that we fly Premium Economy or Business Class, but have been over-ruled on the reason of  "We can spend the money much more usefully later"

There's some rules for them, and then there's the rules for the rest of us.

1½ hours later.

Me: "I'm just finishing the booking dear, you happy with the Premium Economy Class?"
MB: "I've been thinking..."

I've still not booked the f*cking flight.

I still think she'd do better on her broomstick.


  1. Ha! I have the opposite problem. Mrs Hurtmore prefers to do bookings herself, and any of my suggestions in the pre-purchase planning phase are always unwelcome, such as the classic time I asked "why are we flying to Genoa when we are actually going on holiday to Florence? Florence has it's own airport that British Airways flies direct to, and that plan doesn't involve spending two days of a one week holiday on crowded Italian trains" - reason did not win the day, and we still flew to bloody Genoa on bloody Easyjet to 'save' fifty quid. (Also, Genoa is the only city I've ever visited that is laid out like a toilet bowl. That city needs aerial bombardment with Toilet Duck)

  2. Still....... two months peace and quiet?????

    What are you complaining about?

    Oh - I forgot.

    There's going to be 'the list' isn't there.

  3. Dear Twisted. You are a saint. Remember all the lovely things she cooks and does for you. Lindaxxx

  4. maybe the single life doesn't look so bad after all............!!

  5. What would a free man in NZ do for two months, anyway? Better to stay out of temptation's grasp.

    I've been thinking. You could probably book a private flight with all the cash you've allocated for cancellation fees. Just saying.

    My wee princess is much younger than your wee princess. Don't tell me what happens. I wouldn't want you to spoil the big surprises in store for me.

  6. My are a sucker! ..and a saint! I'd have booked her on the slow China.
    Clearly everything I've heard about the Scottish being short tempered is wrong...very wrong

  7. That's disappointing about Qantas; I've flown with several airlines, and they were one of the better - of a bad bunch.

    But, if you HAVE to fly (I much prefer sea travel, but it's no longer a viable fiancial option) then choose Air New Zealand every time if you can. I hate flying, but for me ANZ has always delivered superb service, even in the ordinary Economy class which is all we lesser mortals can afford. Lots of good wine, and really nice staff.

    That long trip to the benighted far side of the world in a fragile aluminium tube far higher than God never intended us to be until the Last Days can't be fun, but it is at least bearable with ANZ.

    Just make sure you don't come back on a cheap Garuda flight. Lovely logo, but.... I still remember the 3 days it took from Schipol to Sydney, stopping at every airport from Amsterdam to Oz - there are lots of them. I needed a week of heavy drinking with a friend before I was recovered enough to cross the Tasman.

    Enjoy your trip!

  8. Shackleford Hurtmore: Oh, you brave person. You actually asked a question. And you're still alive?

    Never been to genoa, but i would take a bet that it's not as bad as Mumbai, where we spent a most unpleasant stopover. The whole f*cking airport smells like a toilet.

  9. Laoch: Actually, that's a very good idea. I've been doing some quiet research on my own and found that it's about the same price as Premium f*cking Economy, and it takes 3 weeks for each trip. That means 6 weeks of more freedom chez TSB.

  10. Alistair: Did I complain. Is there anywhere in this post that mentions the word complain?
    There will definitely be THE LIST.
    *sigh sob *

    I think the first item was scrub the roof with a toothbrush, and then polish with Brasso.

    *sob, sob, gurgle*

  11. Dear Linda in Chile: I know. I have to buy extra Brasso every month to keep my halo shined properly.

    I do love her (and her absolutely superb cooking) and the other things, of which I am too much the gentleman to mention, except it's a lot of fun and does not actually involve fruit.

    Give the Alpaccas a kiss.

  12. YaH: Well actually it does. No matter how much I gripe and groan, I still love the #$%# lady.
    And I can't cook like she does. Guess I'm stuck as a double.

  13. The Unbearable Banishment: Welcome back. (Just out of pure curiosity, how did you find my liiittle badly typed blog?)

    Two months of freedom?
    Nope. Sorry. I can't quite grasp the concept.
    Not the two months; it's the idea of freedom I find difficult to contemplate.

    I've got my own little list (very different from my Beloved's LIST OF THINGS TO DO WHILE I'M AWAY) and it involves extra sleep, fried food lots of meat, and lots of lots of vino.


    Nope. But thought about buying a f*cking boat for the money lost. And let my beloved row to the UK.

    Wee Princesses should be cherished for eveer. Age doesn't matter, they will lways be our wee princesses.
    Give her a cuddle from me please. They can't get too many cuddles.

  14. Tempo: Yep, I'm a sucker, but only where she is concerned. See reply to Linda in Chile and Laoch regarding Sainthood and nautical options.

    Who f*cking said that Scots have a short f*cking temper.?


    Just give me his f*cking name, and I'll see to the bastard.

  15. ex-Clive: (With all of your extra spare time and all of your life experience (translate :- You're old) you should start a blog)

    I've never had any trouble with Qantas, but I'm European. I know that my Chinese brother-in-law was so upset by his treatment in a business class flight from Singapore to Germany with Qantas, that Qantas offered him 2 FIRST CLASS flights anywhere in the wolrd.
    I think it was being called a f*cking demanding Chinese bastard that did it.

    I agree, I like Air NZ, and more importantly, so does my Beloved.

    It's never fun. no matter who you travel with (Unless it was Jane fonda in a bikini). Although I would have liked to have flown Concorde, just once.

    Ah, Garuda, the Indonesian bird of faith. faith that you'll actually get to where it's supposed to be scheduled. Thanks for the advice, I'll steer clear.

    My worst was in Aeroflot in the bad old days of the CCCP.

    Apart form the gaurds with AK-47s, it was the drunken sailors from Vladivostok at the back of the plane who worried me. Especially when they insisted on going outside for some fresh ar at 40,000 feet.

    Also the smell of cucumber essence which they sprayed throughout the whole plane.

  16. Little white lie might be needed. When I have problems with anyone looking for a cheaper option, I simply lie and say I couldn't find any.

  17. Richard: Lie?
    What is thing of which you speak?

    I never lie.

    I'm a teacher.


    please don't forget, she's got her own laptop now, and she could always check.

    If my beloved could find which button to push to connect to the Internetwebthingy.

  18. Yeah stick with Air NZ. Have flown with them 6 times in the last 6 months, 4 x internationally (only to Oz) but hey have been first rate every time. No complaints whatsover! They tick all my boxes.


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