Malta 2006 -- Day 15

It’s our last day today but we don’t leave for the airport until 5.30 p.m. We understand that we can keep our room on for the rest of the day by paying ten pounds which would make things a lot easier. We can spend the day by the pool if necessary and still have somewhere to come back to in order to change and shower. If we had to vacate the room by 11 a.m. we’d be wandering around like homeless people with all our worldly goods stashed in a suitcase in some holding area somewhere. The only problem was that we wouldn’t know if we could keep our room on until 9.30 a.m. on the morning of departure. It wasn’t guaranteed and we couldn’t get an answer from reception until 9.30 a.m. when someone had to present themselves in person at the reception desk. They wouldn’t allow you to phone, it had to be done face to face. Why? Like so many things in life, it didn’t make sense. Why didn’t they know whether we could keep the room until 9.30 a.m. precisely? (You couldn’t go down earlier, they just told you to come back later).

It was ridiculous. It meant that everyone was in a state of uncertainty and all the packing had to be complete in case we had to get out. If they could have kindly told us the night before it would have made life a lot simpler. We would have known exactly where we were with it. If we were keeping the room on all the packing could be done at our leisure during the day of departure but no, they wouldn’t tell us until bloody 9.30 a.m.

We duly turned up at reception and found a queue of people winding around the hotel lobby, suitcases everywhere, people waiting to check out, people waiting to check in, people waiting to change money and people waiting to organise the keeping of their room. It was absolute chaos. And when we got to the head of the queue and asked if we could keep the room on for the day, do you know what the receptionist said? “Certainly, room number? That will be ten pounds please.” She didn’t ask anybody. She didn’t tap away on her computer. She didn’t check any documentation. She just said straight away, “Certainly.”

So if she was so damn sure we could have the room at 9.30 a.m. without any checks whatsoever, why couldn’t they have told us this last night? Or even when we arrived? It’s bloody ridiculous. It’s not as if they were the sort of hotel that took in passing trade. I could understand it if that was the case as they might not know until the last minute whether a room was needed or not but all rooms were allocated well in advance through their specified tour operators so they knew exactly when rooms were being vacated. It was all completely unnecessary as far as I could see. There must be better way.

The rest of the day passed rather slowly. Emma, Hollie and Sam spent most of their time in the room reading and sleeping. Pauline spent it by the pool and I wandered about like a lost soul. The coach for the airport was due at 5.30 p.m. and we had to be out of the room by 5 p.m. so at 4 p.m. we all went to the hotel coffee shop for a quick snack before leaving. We ordered quite quickly, nothing complicated, just coffee and baguettes and waited and waited and waited. At 4.15 p.m. Hollie and Sam’s order came up but the rest of the order wasn’t with it. 4.30 p.m. and Pauline was getting furious. “Can we have our order, we have to leave at five thirty,” she said to the waitress who was the same soppy girl who manned the till for the drinks orders in the dining room. Our food came at last at 4.40 p.m. We wolfed it down as we had to get back up to our room, pack our final bits, get the cases down and check out before 5 p.m..

We decided to pay by credit card and as I’d finished first I took Pauline’s credit card up to the payment desk and said, “Can we pay this quite quickly please?” by now it was coming up to 4.50 p.m., Pauline and Emma were still struggling to finish their baguettes, I was standing at the till waiting to pay when the girl took the credit card and told me to follow her. She then led me out of the coffee shop and into the hotel lobby, up to the cashier’s desk and we stood there and waited while the cashier slowly finished whatever he was in the middle of. He took bloody ages. Time was ticking on. I could see coaches arriving and people milling about loading luggage on. Pauline and Emma were still in the coffee shop, I was standing in the lobby, our cases were stuck upstairs not even ready yet and it was coming up to 4.55 p.m. the waitress and the cashier exchanged some conversation and I could see the cashier shrug and point to the invoices he was still stapling together.

For goodness sake, we have to be out in five minutes, can’t you do that later, I thought. Finally he put the invoices to one side, took the credit card and swiped it into the machine. It clicked, he pulled out the top of the paper roll and it came away in his hand. It had run out of paper. Jesus Christ, for God’s sake hurry up. Meanwhile Pauline and Emma had finished and were standing beside me. “He’s gone to get a new paper roll for his machine,” I said. And he was bloody ages looking for one. “You go upstairs and put as much stuff in the suitcase as you can,” said Pauline, “I’ll be up as soon as I’ve signed this.”

We all rushed about like bloody lunatics, got everything downstairs by about 5.10 p.m. and then waited a further half an hour for our coach to turn up. By the time we were all on the coach and on our way I was a sweating, gibbering wreck.

The good news is that we didn’t have to pay any excess baggage charges on the way back even though Hollie’s case didn’t appear to be any lighter than when we came and do you know I didn’t see her use the anvil once during the holiday.The flight left almost on time apart from a short delay while we waited for two blokes who’d ‘got lost in the airport’ and we arrived at Gatwick about thirty minutes early.

Paul Ford, that’s who he was. Bilko’s commanding officer Col. Hall.