Nigel Turner
Chief Executive Officer
BMI
Donington Hall
Castle Donington
Derby DE74 2SB
30 January 2008
Dear Mr Turner
I am quite sure you remember my letter dated 8 January which your PA kindly and politely responded to in your absence.
Since then however I have had an astonishing letter from a Miss Stenson in your complaints department which I am sure will shock you.
Miss Stenson explains that, although we paid for our seat allocations, we were not entitled to receive them.
Let me say that again.
We paid for seat allocations. But were not entitled to receive them.
I can only assume you are as flabbergasted as I am.
If you paid for a car and, while waiting for delivery, the dealer sent someone round to tell you that he had changed his mind and you could not have the car or a refund, what would you think?
You would think the bugger had stolen your money.
And you would be absolutely right.
Miss Stenson protests that the aircraft was changed. And indeed it was, causing us massive delays and inconvenience. But it still had a fully functioning row six and a row seven (how many charter flights do not) so this adds to the insult rather than explaining it or providing a basis for reneging on the arrangement.
Please speak to someone in your complaints department immediately. They are obviously very confused about the concept of payment for a service. Alternatively I would be happy to raise the matter with the national press and invite their views on this subject.
With thanks in advance for your help in resolving this matter swiftly.
Kind regards
Christine H
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
A further open letter from BMI Baby
Dear Ms H
Thank you for your recent correspondence in respect of the above booking with bmibaby.
I was sorry to read that you were not allocated the seat that you pre-booked and would like to extend our apologies for the inconvenience this may have caused.
As per bmibaby's terms and conditions of which you agreed to at the time of making your booking, the airline will endeavour to assign passengers their requested seat, however, in some circumstances it may not be possible to guarantee seat assignments.
For operational reasons the airline reserves the right to change the aircraft type that it operates and in such circumstances the airline will make every effort to place passengers in the same or similar seats, however this mat not be possible. In circumstances such as this no refund will be given.
On behalf of bmibaby, may I take the opportunity to extend to you our apologies for the inconvenience experienced. I do very much hope that you have not been deterred from considering future travel with bmibaby.
Yours sincerely
Amy Stevenson
bmibaby customer relations (sic)
NOTES FOR THE READER
The group may have raised one or two more complaints than just the seat allocation, presumably BMI Baby are not sorry about the hideous delays and other inconveniences.
The change of plane was to a BIGGER plane with more seats, difficult to see how re-allocating the seats can have been a challenge.
No efforts were in fact made to try and re-allocate the seats.
The group were charged extra for pre-allocating their seats.
Ms Stevenson's hopes are unlikely to be fulfilled
Thank you for your recent correspondence in respect of the above booking with bmibaby.
I was sorry to read that you were not allocated the seat that you pre-booked and would like to extend our apologies for the inconvenience this may have caused.
As per bmibaby's terms and conditions of which you agreed to at the time of making your booking, the airline will endeavour to assign passengers their requested seat, however, in some circumstances it may not be possible to guarantee seat assignments.
For operational reasons the airline reserves the right to change the aircraft type that it operates and in such circumstances the airline will make every effort to place passengers in the same or similar seats, however this mat not be possible. In circumstances such as this no refund will be given.
On behalf of bmibaby, may I take the opportunity to extend to you our apologies for the inconvenience experienced. I do very much hope that you have not been deterred from considering future travel with bmibaby.
Yours sincerely
Amy Stevenson
bmibaby customer relations (sic)
NOTES FOR THE READER
The group may have raised one or two more complaints than just the seat allocation, presumably BMI Baby are not sorry about the hideous delays and other inconveniences.
The change of plane was to a BIGGER plane with more seats, difficult to see how re-allocating the seats can have been a challenge.
No efforts were in fact made to try and re-allocate the seats.
The group were charged extra for pre-allocating their seats.
Ms Stevenson's hopes are unlikely to be fulfilled
Friday, January 25, 2008
Better late than never
Back in 1997, if anyone can remember that far back, when MG had just launched the F and he was flush with cash working in Harrogate he wandered into an MG garage and bought one. Sadly at the time there was a waiting list of about 3 months and whilst he waited for it to be delivered he took a new job (in fact the job he is still in) which involved an enormous pay cut and accordingly he had to hand back the car before delivery.
As it transpires Chris purchased an MGF back in 1997 and took delivery early of a model suspiciously similar to the one ordered by our subject. We leave readers to make their own conclusions about him profiting from other's misfortune.
Fortunately Chris has now met Christine and so full of horror has she been at this clear iniquity that she has been pestering Chris for months to do the decent thing and we are delighted therefore (and not just because it was embarrassing for journalists of our standing to be cadging lifts in a Daewoo Lanos, although it was) that she has finally brow-beaten him down and he has very admirably turned over the car to its real owner.
A decent car at last!
As it transpires Chris purchased an MGF back in 1997 and took delivery early of a model suspiciously similar to the one ordered by our subject. We leave readers to make their own conclusions about him profiting from other's misfortune.
Fortunately Chris has now met Christine and so full of horror has she been at this clear iniquity that she has been pestering Chris for months to do the decent thing and we are delighted therefore (and not just because it was embarrassing for journalists of our standing to be cadging lifts in a Daewoo Lanos, although it was) that she has finally brow-beaten him down and he has very admirably turned over the car to its real owner.
A decent car at last!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
An open letter from BMI Baby
10 January 2008
Ms Christine H
[Address]
Dear Ms H
Thank you for your letter dated 8 January 2008 to our chief executive officer, Nigel Turner. As Nigel is away from the office at this time I thought it best to respond to you on his behalf.
I was very sorry indeed to read of the difficulties you encountered in relation to your flights to and from Geneva. Due to the nature of your complaint, I have asked for one of our customer relations executives to review this matter in more detail and respond to you direct.
In the meantime, on behalf of bmi, may I extend to you our initial apologies for the difficulties you encountered, and thank you for bringing the matter to our attention.
Yours sincerely
Ellie Robinson
p.a. to Nigel Turner
chief executive officer
cc Customer Relations
Ms Christine H
[Address]
Dear Ms H
Thank you for your letter dated 8 January 2008 to our chief executive officer, Nigel Turner. As Nigel is away from the office at this time I thought it best to respond to you on his behalf.
I was very sorry indeed to read of the difficulties you encountered in relation to your flights to and from Geneva. Due to the nature of your complaint, I have asked for one of our customer relations executives to review this matter in more detail and respond to you direct.
In the meantime, on behalf of bmi, may I extend to you our initial apologies for the difficulties you encountered, and thank you for bringing the matter to our attention.
Yours sincerely
Ellie Robinson
p.a. to Nigel Turner
chief executive officer
cc Customer Relations
Monday, January 21, 2008
Phlegmatic Brits
Some of our readers may have noticed the recent story about the aeroplane crashing at Heathrow. We at Bogun Towers like to keep our finger on the news pulse and picked up on this quote from one of the survivors:
Jerome Ensinck said he thought that the flight had simply suffered a hard landing. “When we hit the ground it was extremely rough but I’ve had rough landings before and I thought, ‘This is the roughest I’ve had’.
“Then the emergency exits were opened and we were all told we should go through as quickly as possible, and the moment I was away from the plane I started to realise that the undercarriage was away, and we had missed the runway. I feel lucky at the moment, but I think now I realise I’ve had a close call.”
We can only assume that poor Mr Ensinck has had some very poor pilots flying him in the past.
Jerome Ensinck said he thought that the flight had simply suffered a hard landing. “When we hit the ground it was extremely rough but I’ve had rough landings before and I thought, ‘This is the roughest I’ve had’.
“Then the emergency exits were opened and we were all told we should go through as quickly as possible, and the moment I was away from the plane I started to realise that the undercarriage was away, and we had missed the runway. I feel lucky at the moment, but I think now I realise I’ve had a close call.”
We can only assume that poor Mr Ensinck has had some very poor pilots flying him in the past.
Wild Wild West (Wales), part 4
Hangovers all round. Not the most surprising result all things considered but unwelcome none the less. With much of the day taken up with the five of them trying to piece together the entire night from the jigsaw pieces of their very vague memories the alarming similarities to far, far, too many mornings at university were rather laid bare.
That said as a cure to PBA (passim) being able to talk through the entire night is hard to beat (well jetskiing is (passim) but we will leave that out of the equation).
A long very chilled out day properly extended into the evening by his decision to stay the night and drive to Bristol early the next morning.
The picture fades out and in to the next morning.
As he fires up the car he notices the complete lack of fuel. Now in most civilised parts of the world, i.e. where he lives, this is not an issue due to the preponderance of 24 hour garages but in the wilds of West Wales it is an issue and so confronted with the option of going back to bed and trying again once the local garage was open (0800) he decided to chance his arm and see how far he could get. With fuel in short supply he had to eke out every fluid ounce and so accelerating (and therefore braking) were ruled out until he finally found an open garage. A more tedious journey is hard to imagine and quite possibly the worst way to end a truely splendid weekend.
That said as a cure to PBA (passim) being able to talk through the entire night is hard to beat (well jetskiing is (passim) but we will leave that out of the equation).
A long very chilled out day properly extended into the evening by his decision to stay the night and drive to Bristol early the next morning.
The picture fades out and in to the next morning.
As he fires up the car he notices the complete lack of fuel. Now in most civilised parts of the world, i.e. where he lives, this is not an issue due to the preponderance of 24 hour garages but in the wilds of West Wales it is an issue and so confronted with the option of going back to bed and trying again once the local garage was open (0800) he decided to chance his arm and see how far he could get. With fuel in short supply he had to eke out every fluid ounce and so accelerating (and therefore braking) were ruled out until he finally found an open garage. A more tedious journey is hard to imagine and quite possibly the worst way to end a truely splendid weekend.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Wild Wild West (Wales), part 3
With the afternoon out of the way minds turned to the evening and a scheduled pub crawl around the thumping metropolis that is Aberystwyth. Various rules were proposed and rejected (most welcome of the rejections being the rule that the alcohol content of each drink had to be more than the last one - proposed by our hero having just ordered a round of 7.3% vintage cider) but eventually they settled on the simple - no drink more than once.
With the cider disposed of, painfully, they moved on to the Lord Beeching bar which, as they approached, Dafydd observed was a lovely place at which point a drunkard staggered out the front door with claret pumping out of his forehead. The quality of the bar was certainly sealed for your correspondent when he went into the toilet and was presented with a delightful vignette.
A quick beer was thrown down there before Nia plyed them with a Paddywhack (a Creme de Mmenthe with a Bailey's float (other cream based liquers are available))in The Mill.
Another several bars followed, one of which looked oddly like a Methodist chapel which was truely ironic in light of the quantity of ale being thrown down before the usual level of childish shenanigans kicked in. Polly started snogging Nia (which was nice for the spectators) and then Tudur, feeling left out, started snogging our hero (less nice for the spectators). Astonishingly there was still time for a few more beers before a kebab and a taxi home.
As nights out go this one was pretty spot on in general and as an attempt to recreate his increasingly vanishing youth even closer.
With the cider disposed of, painfully, they moved on to the Lord Beeching bar which, as they approached, Dafydd observed was a lovely place at which point a drunkard staggered out the front door with claret pumping out of his forehead. The quality of the bar was certainly sealed for your correspondent when he went into the toilet and was presented with a delightful vignette.
A quick beer was thrown down there before Nia plyed them with a Paddywhack (a Creme de Mmenthe with a Bailey's float (other cream based liquers are available))in The Mill.
Another several bars followed, one of which looked oddly like a Methodist chapel which was truely ironic in light of the quantity of ale being thrown down before the usual level of childish shenanigans kicked in. Polly started snogging Nia (which was nice for the spectators) and then Tudur, feeling left out, started snogging our hero (less nice for the spectators). Astonishingly there was still time for a few more beers before a kebab and a taxi home.
As nights out go this one was pretty spot on in general and as an attempt to recreate his increasingly vanishing youth even closer.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Wild Wild West (Wales), part 2
Unbeknownst to him the local taffia had arranged a little excursion for Saturday up into the mountains with a view to his celebrating his welshness with some bardic oratory.
So having slugged half-way up a mountain they reached a not entirely inspiring stone marked on the OS map as being the grave of Taliesin (the greatest of Welsh bards, active in the late 6th century for all our non-Welsh readers) and presented him with a scroll to read. The scroll was, of course, A Lament for Owain,
Enaid Owain ab Urien
Gobwyllid Rheen o'i raid.
Rheged udd ae cudd tromlas,
Nid oedd fas i gywyddaid.
Isgell gwr cerddglyd clodfawr llifaid,
Cany cheffir cystedlydd
I udd Llwyfenydd llathraid.
Medel gallon, gefeilad,
Eisylud ei dad a'i daid.
Pan laddawdd Owain Fflamddwyn
Nid oedd fwy nogyd cysgaid.
Cysgid Lloegr llydan nifer
A lleufer yn eu llygaid;
A Rhai ni ffoynt haeach
A oeddynt hyach no rhaid.
Owain a'u cosbes yn ddrud,
Mal cnud yn dylud defaid.
Gwr gwiw uch ei amliw seirch
A roddai ferch i eirchiaid.
Cyd as cronnai mal called,
Rhy ranned rhag ei enaid.
Enaid Owain ab Urien
Gobwyllid Rheen o'i raid.
Not, we think you will agree, the easiest thing to read without practice (or without spitting over everyone).
With that dealt with the hike continued and, having only got lost once and chased by horses once, they settled down in the White Lion for a well earned beer (and to watch the darts).
So having slugged half-way up a mountain they reached a not entirely inspiring stone marked on the OS map as being the grave of Taliesin (the greatest of Welsh bards, active in the late 6th century for all our non-Welsh readers) and presented him with a scroll to read. The scroll was, of course, A Lament for Owain,
Enaid Owain ab Urien
Gobwyllid Rheen o'i raid.
Rheged udd ae cudd tromlas,
Nid oedd fas i gywyddaid.
Isgell gwr cerddglyd clodfawr llifaid,
Cany cheffir cystedlydd
I udd Llwyfenydd llathraid.
Medel gallon, gefeilad,
Eisylud ei dad a'i daid.
Pan laddawdd Owain Fflamddwyn
Nid oedd fwy nogyd cysgaid.
Cysgid Lloegr llydan nifer
A lleufer yn eu llygaid;
A Rhai ni ffoynt haeach
A oeddynt hyach no rhaid.
Owain a'u cosbes yn ddrud,
Mal cnud yn dylud defaid.
Gwr gwiw uch ei amliw seirch
A roddai ferch i eirchiaid.
Cyd as cronnai mal called,
Rhy ranned rhag ei enaid.
Enaid Owain ab Urien
Gobwyllid Rheen o'i raid.
Not, we think you will agree, the easiest thing to read without practice (or without spitting over everyone).
With that dealt with the hike continued and, having only got lost once and chased by horses once, they settled down in the White Lion for a well earned beer (and to watch the darts).
Monday, January 14, 2008
Wild Wild West (Wales), part 1
Having received a text from Polly reading, "We miss you, X" he rather felt pressured into a weekend in Aberystwyth with the Pofydd, Nia and Tudur to help revive their flagging spirits as they struggled through life without his cheery smile to keep them happy.
Very sensibly he managed to arrange this to coincide with an enormous snow storm over Birmingham so the drive down was a real treat.
Upon arrival it became apparent that their cry for help was a real one as, in their frantic scrabbling around for something interesting to do without him, Polly had dyed her hair...red. The poor thing.
Knowing that Saturday was rather set up for some fun and games (and a pub crawl) Friday was intended to be a relatively quiet night over some of Polly's splendid cooking but the temptation of too many bottles of wine proved too much and he got battered.
Very sensibly he managed to arrange this to coincide with an enormous snow storm over Birmingham so the drive down was a real treat.
Upon arrival it became apparent that their cry for help was a real one as, in their frantic scrabbling around for something interesting to do without him, Polly had dyed her hair...red. The poor thing.
Knowing that Saturday was rather set up for some fun and games (and a pub crawl) Friday was intended to be a relatively quiet night over some of Polly's splendid cooking but the temptation of too many bottles of wine proved too much and he got battered.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Chaos at the Passport Agency
His dog-earred and well travelled passport (passim) has finally reached the end of its long and ignoble life and expires later this month. In light of his almost constant holidays he did not feel able to risk the 3 week postal service and made a personal appointment at Newport passport office to get it sorted.
How we licked our lips at the possibilties, tales of queues stretching out the door and round the block, hours spent trying to explain to a barely literate clerk the details of the application and the close proximity of the unwashed masses.
Imagine our dismay as he arrived, was seen without any delay, no queing, no fuss and was on his way again within 5 minutes.
What is the Home Office playing at? It has a responsibility to us journalists to be in a constant state of disarray. How can the Daily Mail hope to flourish without a daily diet of headlines like, "Home Office chaos; house prices fall"?
How we licked our lips at the possibilties, tales of queues stretching out the door and round the block, hours spent trying to explain to a barely literate clerk the details of the application and the close proximity of the unwashed masses.
Imagine our dismay as he arrived, was seen without any delay, no queing, no fuss and was on his way again within 5 minutes.
What is the Home Office playing at? It has a responsibility to us journalists to be in a constant state of disarray. How can the Daily Mail hope to flourish without a daily diet of headlines like, "Home Office chaos; house prices fall"?
An open letter to BMI Baby
The following was sent (written in green ink) to BMI on the skiers behalf by the lovely Christine:-
Nigel Turner
Chief Executive Officer
BMI
Donington Hall
Castle Donington
Derby
DE74 2SB
8 January 2008
Dear Mr Turner
I am writing to you directly to alert you to the alarming disarray that your bmibaby operation demonstrated over the Christmas/New Year break (details enclosed).
I’ve been flying a couple of times a week for the best part of 15 years and am very aware that flights frequently experience delays and, as often as not, one molehill of a problem can morph into mountain of misfortune.
So it’s entirely conceivable that a flight may face:
a) Technical problems
b) A change of aircraft
c) A delay of three or more hours
d) A melt down of the pre-paid seating plan
e) A lack of sandwiches (attributed to ‘earlier popularity’)
f) A dearth of information among passengers and staff
It is also possible that an individual member of your team, the airport staff or your passengers may be less than wholeheartedly enthusiastic about your operation.
What is inconceivable is that the in- and out-bound flights on the same trip would face ALL of these problems. As would, one assumes, the flights before and after.
All this was combined with the lowest possible regard for your airline by every stakeholder we encountered. The head of check-in at Geneva airport begged us to write to you in the desperate hope that it would stop the scrapping of pre-booked seating arrangements (separating entire families) and thus spare her and her team from weekly torrents of passenger fury. One of your flight crew rolled their eyes in resignation when one of your planes was changed for ‘technical reasons’ that could be easily and quickly fixed. I wish I could have recorded and shared with you the comments of the passengers discussing previous experiences with bmibaby.
I do not write to ask you for anything. But to urge you, for the sake of the future of your airline, its employees, customers and shareholders, to focus the attention of your best managers on quickly addressing the staggeringly consistent incompetence (or perhaps carelessness) that is currently evident.
Although if you’d be so gracious to refund the cost of our futile attempt to book seats that would save me the bother of writing to your complaints department as well.
Good luck with it.
Christine H
Cc: complaints
Nigel Turner
Chief Executive Officer
BMI
Donington Hall
Castle Donington
Derby
DE74 2SB
8 January 2008
Dear Mr Turner
I am writing to you directly to alert you to the alarming disarray that your bmibaby operation demonstrated over the Christmas/New Year break (details enclosed).
I’ve been flying a couple of times a week for the best part of 15 years and am very aware that flights frequently experience delays and, as often as not, one molehill of a problem can morph into mountain of misfortune.
So it’s entirely conceivable that a flight may face:
a) Technical problems
b) A change of aircraft
c) A delay of three or more hours
d) A melt down of the pre-paid seating plan
e) A lack of sandwiches (attributed to ‘earlier popularity’)
f) A dearth of information among passengers and staff
It is also possible that an individual member of your team, the airport staff or your passengers may be less than wholeheartedly enthusiastic about your operation.
What is inconceivable is that the in- and out-bound flights on the same trip would face ALL of these problems. As would, one assumes, the flights before and after.
All this was combined with the lowest possible regard for your airline by every stakeholder we encountered. The head of check-in at Geneva airport begged us to write to you in the desperate hope that it would stop the scrapping of pre-booked seating arrangements (separating entire families) and thus spare her and her team from weekly torrents of passenger fury. One of your flight crew rolled their eyes in resignation when one of your planes was changed for ‘technical reasons’ that could be easily and quickly fixed. I wish I could have recorded and shared with you the comments of the passengers discussing previous experiences with bmibaby.
I do not write to ask you for anything. But to urge you, for the sake of the future of your airline, its employees, customers and shareholders, to focus the attention of your best managers on quickly addressing the staggeringly consistent incompetence (or perhaps carelessness) that is currently evident.
Although if you’d be so gracious to refund the cost of our futile attempt to book seats that would save me the bother of writing to your complaints department as well.
Good luck with it.
Christine H
Cc: complaints
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Champagne Charlies
New Year in the big smoke, with Nigel, TCO, Christine, Chris and various supporting characters.
Our subject turned up at Nigel and TCO's flat rather early and emboldened by the presence of another man Nigel quickly proposed that the two of them pop out to a local boozer and leave TCO to finishe the preparations. Unfortunately the local boozer was shut so they wandered the streets before finding the Windsor Castle.
A London venue web-site offers the following review, "Windsor Castle is a pub that offers stripteases from Thursday to Saturday in an upstairs bar with a separate entrance. In the main bar area, they provide a pool table and a big screen TV showing premiership football as additional entertainment. Catering for private parties of up to 80 guests is available upon request." Frankly we do not care to add to this.
A swift pint of guiness before moving onto the Neeld Arms. The Neeld Arms optimistically claims it is in St John's Wood but in reality it is is in Kilburn and is an old fashioned Irish Republican boozer, just right for a couple of public schoolboys who at least had the foresight to realise their impending doom and bailed out sharpish.
Two more restorative pints in a more upmarket bar (by this stage your correspondent's shorthand was already getting a bit shaky so we regret we cannot recall the name) followed before they returned to the flat.
Already mildly tipsy the Champagne etc. began to flow with gay abandon. The plan was to head to the Metropolitan for beers and the countdown to the New Year and the first part was executed (i.e. they got there) but, frankly, it was rubbish. Nigel said it was too old and he just wanted to talk to people (terribly middle-aged) whilst our lad just thought the clientele were rancid and so they bailed out back to the flat for more Champagne etc. to see the New Year in with Jools Holland and friends (including Katie Melua) on the TV in the background.
At some stage your correspondent's notepad must have fallen in a drink as our notes of the latter part of the evening are a little lacking in detail but we can report that our lad fell asleep in the early hours sat in a corner of the room snoring away with his eyes open.
New Year's Day was, as usual, a day of recovery punctuated by lunch with Katie Melua (passim) and others in St John's Wood. Nigel rather ruined our lad's efforts to appear entirely ignorant of who she was by opening the conversation with, "We watched you on telly last night."
Very graciously Nigel and TCO allowed him to stay another night as he was in no fit state to drive back and they all slumped in front of the goggle box and watched some rubbish films.
Our subject turned up at Nigel and TCO's flat rather early and emboldened by the presence of another man Nigel quickly proposed that the two of them pop out to a local boozer and leave TCO to finishe the preparations. Unfortunately the local boozer was shut so they wandered the streets before finding the Windsor Castle.
A London venue web-site offers the following review, "Windsor Castle is a pub that offers stripteases from Thursday to Saturday in an upstairs bar with a separate entrance. In the main bar area, they provide a pool table and a big screen TV showing premiership football as additional entertainment. Catering for private parties of up to 80 guests is available upon request." Frankly we do not care to add to this.
A swift pint of guiness before moving onto the Neeld Arms. The Neeld Arms optimistically claims it is in St John's Wood but in reality it is is in Kilburn and is an old fashioned Irish Republican boozer, just right for a couple of public schoolboys who at least had the foresight to realise their impending doom and bailed out sharpish.
Two more restorative pints in a more upmarket bar (by this stage your correspondent's shorthand was already getting a bit shaky so we regret we cannot recall the name) followed before they returned to the flat.
Already mildly tipsy the Champagne etc. began to flow with gay abandon. The plan was to head to the Metropolitan for beers and the countdown to the New Year and the first part was executed (i.e. they got there) but, frankly, it was rubbish. Nigel said it was too old and he just wanted to talk to people (terribly middle-aged) whilst our lad just thought the clientele were rancid and so they bailed out back to the flat for more Champagne etc. to see the New Year in with Jools Holland and friends (including Katie Melua) on the TV in the background.
At some stage your correspondent's notepad must have fallen in a drink as our notes of the latter part of the evening are a little lacking in detail but we can report that our lad fell asleep in the early hours sat in a corner of the room snoring away with his eyes open.
New Year's Day was, as usual, a day of recovery punctuated by lunch with Katie Melua (passim) and others in St John's Wood. Nigel rather ruined our lad's efforts to appear entirely ignorant of who she was by opening the conversation with, "We watched you on telly last night."
Very graciously Nigel and TCO allowed him to stay another night as he was in no fit state to drive back and they all slumped in front of the goggle box and watched some rubbish films.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Christmas Day
Our more astute readers may be surprised at the title of this post in light of the earlier posts from France but we speak, of course, of his second Christmas with his family on his return.
Sadly his sister suffered a fall shortly before Christmas (no she was not on the Sambuca (passim)) and very badly sprained her ankle and has been essentially immobile for a couple of weeks and the kids have not been able to get out and about as much to let off their youthful steam so suddenly with a bearded (but knackered) Uncle Owen to play with they were off.
Thea played the cute card to perfection claiming her favourite present was the sing-along CD player he gave her whilst Phoebe was somewhat underwelmed by her present of a rainbow painting set although to be fair she had been given exactly the same present only 5 days before by someone else. Evie was delighted with her pull-along centipede; well she chewed on it thoughfully.
Meanwhile he was being smug about having more presents than anyone else to open and some first class presents they were too although he will have to wait to listen to all his new CDs as it turns out that Chris stole his i-pod craftily at the end of their trip (possibly to pawn it to pay for repairs to his car).
The usual mix of banter, food and lots (and lots) of alcohol followed by board games rounded off a splendid day. Merry Christmas one and all.
Sadly his sister suffered a fall shortly before Christmas (no she was not on the Sambuca (passim)) and very badly sprained her ankle and has been essentially immobile for a couple of weeks and the kids have not been able to get out and about as much to let off their youthful steam so suddenly with a bearded (but knackered) Uncle Owen to play with they were off.
Thea played the cute card to perfection claiming her favourite present was the sing-along CD player he gave her whilst Phoebe was somewhat underwelmed by her present of a rainbow painting set although to be fair she had been given exactly the same present only 5 days before by someone else. Evie was delighted with her pull-along centipede; well she chewed on it thoughfully.
Meanwhile he was being smug about having more presents than anyone else to open and some first class presents they were too although he will have to wait to listen to all his new CDs as it turns out that Chris stole his i-pod craftily at the end of their trip (possibly to pawn it to pay for repairs to his car).
The usual mix of banter, food and lots (and lots) of alcohol followed by board games rounded off a splendid day. Merry Christmas one and all.
Oh dear
We at Bogun Towers keep a constant check on our competitor media websites and were amused by the interesting juxtaposition in the Times Online today as below (note the first entry under "Times Recommends" and the first entry under "Travel News.")
Monday, December 31, 2007
Skiing at Christmas - Part 5
The last morning of skiing is always a sad day and Polly and our kid kicked the day off in particularly morose moods and barely capable of uttering a civil word between them until the sheer pace of a particularly lovely run from one of the peaks restored their sense of joie de vivre and set them up for a last day of hard but fantastic skiing.
With the sun on their backs and the legs properly warm at the end of the week they got some serious skiing miles under their belts getting over to Meribel and back to the hotel for lunch. For the afternoon the party split up so each could get their own personal fun in before the end of the holiday and with the sun coming down on a fantastic holiday.
To cap the weekend off they headed off into Val Thorens (wearing their lovely Val Thorens team tops) for a night on the tiles. The decision was taken to drive up their with our hero to ski over in the morning and collect the van, not as it would turn out a very sensible decision. Trying to park in Val Thorens is not exactly straightforward and having dropped off the troops he spent about 30 minutes trying to park up (most of which was wasted in his efforts to get into a car park that turned out to be too short for the van although some was spent trying to resist the urge to run down the pedestrians).
In the meantime however the troops had located a splendid restaurant and they settled down to the usual mix of booze, badinage (including some very interesting revelations) and enormous quantities of food and a very entertaining policy towards vegetarians.
An early start for our hero was required as he had to ski over to Val to pick up the van but with no mishaps they were on the road in plenty of time. Having rented the van from the French side of Geneva airport they were rather obliged to return it to there but having never been their before they were rather in the hands of Chris’s sat-nav (known as Suzie) to get them to that side of the airport. She is quite a cheeky minx and decided on a) taking them a remarkable route through the middle of Geneva and then b) even more comically taking them to the Swiss side.
Getting the vehicle into the Avis car park was quite interesting as the van is so high the Aeriel just scrapes along the ceiling which was quite disconcerting however the level of amusement plummeted when the rep told them she could only take the van on that side of the border for an extra fee, frankly he was so hacked off with the entire thing he would have paid anything but getting stung for £50 was pretty hard going (considering the charge covers them moving the van perhaps 400 yards).
It would be good to report that BMI had restored their somewhat tarnished reputation but not as funny as the reality. Matters started poorly with them picking the counter manned by two trainees and went downhill further when Polly realised that the seats she had paid more to book had not been allocated leaving them scattered around the plane. After 30 minutes of her most piercing Gorgon stares and arguing the toss some rearrangement was made but customer services can expect a most strongly worded letter (probably written in green ink) shortly.
Splendidly matters did not then improve and they had to settle in for a first class delay although BMI Baby very generously supplied them all with the princely sum of £4 to purchase food and beverages to get them through the tedious hours in a packed airport. That letter may possibly be getting longer (and may even now be signed in purple ink).
The flight finally took off over 3 hours late with the comically amusing opening announcement of “Due to popularity on our last flight we are sorry to announce that we have run out of food” oh my how they laughed (and composed another paragraph or two).
A barely tolerable flight was somewhat appositely barely tolerated although another sentence may well have been tacked onto the letter when they pulled up at a bus-stop in the rain rather than a proper gate.
By this stage Nia and Tudur (and the Pofydd’s) chances of making their last train were a bit slim and Nia in particular was a little wrought as they were due to move house the next day. Matters were not improved when our hero reported that having checked the next train was at 1330 the next day.
Despite a desperate dash for the taxis the last train was duly missed and despite Polly’s best efforts to persuade the BMI rep to pay for a taxi to Aberystwyth she was cruelly rebuffed.
Meanwhile back at the flat (to which Christine, Chris and our kid had retreated) a certain feeling of ennui set in as they discovered that Chris’s battery was flat. To make matters worse the cable to unlock the bonnet was broken (and hence the ability to access the battery). An hour later the recovery mechanic turned up and began the process of trying to work out a fix. After 45 minutes he admitted defeat and indicated the only option was to crowbar up the bonnet. An hour later the front of the car was ruined
and still not opened so a devastated car had to be loaded on the back of a lorry and sent on its way to London. 
By this time the welsh mob had turned up at the flat having failed to obtain a hire car (the hire company explained the lack of available vehicles was due to “we ain’t got no fleet, it goes south for the winter” which would seem to suggest they mis-heard Polly’s accent when asking for a car to hire and thought she said swallows.
Polly cooked, everyone drank and slowly chilled out. Nia managed to bully one of her relatives to come and meet them all at Shrewsbury the next morning and so via some convoluted route they could at least get home just in time to see the last of their stuff being moved into their brand new house by their friends and family. For the benefit of those friends and family we have been asked to make clear that this story is not some elaborate hoax to enable Nia and Tudur to get out of helping moving into their own home (and if anyone of them believes that they must also believe in Santa).
With the sun on their backs and the legs properly warm at the end of the week they got some serious skiing miles under their belts getting over to Meribel and back to the hotel for lunch. For the afternoon the party split up so each could get their own personal fun in before the end of the holiday and with the sun coming down on a fantastic holiday.
To cap the weekend off they headed off into Val Thorens (wearing their lovely Val Thorens team tops) for a night on the tiles. The decision was taken to drive up their with our hero to ski over in the morning and collect the van, not as it would turn out a very sensible decision. Trying to park in Val Thorens is not exactly straightforward and having dropped off the troops he spent about 30 minutes trying to park up (most of which was wasted in his efforts to get into a car park that turned out to be too short for the van although some was spent trying to resist the urge to run down the pedestrians).
In the meantime however the troops had located a splendid restaurant and they settled down to the usual mix of booze, badinage (including some very interesting revelations) and enormous quantities of food and a very entertaining policy towards vegetarians.
An early start for our hero was required as he had to ski over to Val to pick up the van but with no mishaps they were on the road in plenty of time. Having rented the van from the French side of Geneva airport they were rather obliged to return it to there but having never been their before they were rather in the hands of Chris’s sat-nav (known as Suzie) to get them to that side of the airport. She is quite a cheeky minx and decided on a) taking them a remarkable route through the middle of Geneva and then b) even more comically taking them to the Swiss side.
Getting the vehicle into the Avis car park was quite interesting as the van is so high the Aeriel just scrapes along the ceiling which was quite disconcerting however the level of amusement plummeted when the rep told them she could only take the van on that side of the border for an extra fee, frankly he was so hacked off with the entire thing he would have paid anything but getting stung for £50 was pretty hard going (considering the charge covers them moving the van perhaps 400 yards).
It would be good to report that BMI had restored their somewhat tarnished reputation but not as funny as the reality. Matters started poorly with them picking the counter manned by two trainees and went downhill further when Polly realised that the seats she had paid more to book had not been allocated leaving them scattered around the plane. After 30 minutes of her most piercing Gorgon stares and arguing the toss some rearrangement was made but customer services can expect a most strongly worded letter (probably written in green ink) shortly.
Splendidly matters did not then improve and they had to settle in for a first class delay although BMI Baby very generously supplied them all with the princely sum of £4 to purchase food and beverages to get them through the tedious hours in a packed airport. That letter may possibly be getting longer (and may even now be signed in purple ink).
The flight finally took off over 3 hours late with the comically amusing opening announcement of “Due to popularity on our last flight we are sorry to announce that we have run out of food” oh my how they laughed (and composed another paragraph or two).
A barely tolerable flight was somewhat appositely barely tolerated although another sentence may well have been tacked onto the letter when they pulled up at a bus-stop in the rain rather than a proper gate.
By this stage Nia and Tudur (and the Pofydd’s) chances of making their last train were a bit slim and Nia in particular was a little wrought as they were due to move house the next day. Matters were not improved when our hero reported that having checked the next train was at 1330 the next day.
Despite a desperate dash for the taxis the last train was duly missed and despite Polly’s best efforts to persuade the BMI rep to pay for a taxi to Aberystwyth she was cruelly rebuffed.
Meanwhile back at the flat (to which Christine, Chris and our kid had retreated) a certain feeling of ennui set in as they discovered that Chris’s battery was flat. To make matters worse the cable to unlock the bonnet was broken (and hence the ability to access the battery). An hour later the recovery mechanic turned up and began the process of trying to work out a fix. After 45 minutes he admitted defeat and indicated the only option was to crowbar up the bonnet. An hour later the front of the car was ruined
and still not opened so a devastated car had to be loaded on the back of a lorry and sent on its way to London. 
By this time the welsh mob had turned up at the flat having failed to obtain a hire car (the hire company explained the lack of available vehicles was due to “we ain’t got no fleet, it goes south for the winter” which would seem to suggest they mis-heard Polly’s accent when asking for a car to hire and thought she said swallows.
Polly cooked, everyone drank and slowly chilled out. Nia managed to bully one of her relatives to come and meet them all at Shrewsbury the next morning and so via some convoluted route they could at least get home just in time to see the last of their stuff being moved into their brand new house by their friends and family. For the benefit of those friends and family we have been asked to make clear that this story is not some elaborate hoax to enable Nia and Tudur to get out of helping moving into their own home (and if anyone of them believes that they must also believe in Santa).
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Skiing at Christmas - Part 4
Having mended and made good his shabby skiing kit 
over the last 10 years he has finally cracked and decided to buy some new stuff.
After a day's skiing and perhaps one too many vin chauds he persuaded the Pofydd to come shopping with him and select out something to amuse the occupants of the pistes. They certainly did not let him down and in his new kit he rather cuts the dash (and his skiing has improved no end due to the need to constantly impress).
That said it does rather leave his skiing companions in the Shadow of the Bogun.
over the last 10 years he has finally cracked and decided to buy some new stuff.After a day's skiing and perhaps one too many vin chauds he persuaded the Pofydd to come shopping with him and select out something to amuse the occupants of the pistes. They certainly did not let him down and in his new kit he rather cuts the dash (and his skiing has improved no end due to the need to constantly impress).
That said it does rather leave his skiing companions in the Shadow of the Bogun.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Skiing at Christmas - Part 3
Christmas Day on the slopes, sounds magical doesn't it? well it wasn't for our hero who was shockingly hungover but, along with the rest of the group, got into the Christmas Spirit and dressed as Santa although we are not sure what damage seeing a very ill Santa 
will have done to the local kids. Mind you what they will have made of the sight of 7 Santas 
skiing down en masse is also an interesting question.Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Skiing at Christmas - Part 2
As usual he becomes somewhat overawed by the beauty of nature when off skiing and this was no exception and he waxed lyrical (read bored the tits of his friends) for hours about the beautiful moon (although to be fair it was pretty pretty) on the second morning. 
Fortunately they just ignored him and got on with the important job of skiing.
Despite a rather foolish error of allowing Polly to order for them all at lunch (cost somewhere not short of a Rolex each) a very good day's skiing was had by all.
Now as they are in France and they are all papists round here they rather enjoy Christmas Eve as the special day so having got through the skiing the drinks started to be knocked back with very gay abandon. Secret santa presents were exchanged (he got a very fine pair of cufflinks and a Viz annual) and then the beers really started to flow.
It being Christmas of course some carols had to be sung and they joined the various British families singing along. En masse they brought the house down with their actions to "On the twelfth night of Christmas", Tudur, Dafydd and our kid brought tears to everyone's eyes with their beautiful impression of a welsh male voice choir and then our kid ruined it all by sharing one of his stories with the group.
All in all a pretty standard Christmas Eve.
Fortunately they just ignored him and got on with the important job of skiing.
Despite a rather foolish error of allowing Polly to order for them all at lunch (cost somewhere not short of a Rolex each) a very good day's skiing was had by all.
Now as they are in France and they are all papists round here they rather enjoy Christmas Eve as the special day so having got through the skiing the drinks started to be knocked back with very gay abandon. Secret santa presents were exchanged (he got a very fine pair of cufflinks and a Viz annual) and then the beers really started to flow.
It being Christmas of course some carols had to be sung and they joined the various British families singing along. En masse they brought the house down with their actions to "On the twelfth night of Christmas", Tudur, Dafydd and our kid brought tears to everyone's eyes with their beautiful impression of a welsh male voice choir and then our kid ruined it all by sharing one of his stories with the group.
All in all a pretty standard Christmas Eve.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Skiing at Christmas - Part 1
Despite the various problems of the journey they have at last arrived in resort and Chris, who chose the hotel, has prooved himself to be quite the star and it is a brillant place (called the Polar Bear hotel, Daf and he were both rather taken with the polar bear in reception) 
with a splendid feel and a great bar.
The sense of excitment in the group is palpable and it is given most voice by Nia who is amazingly excitable - mind it is her first ski trip, christmas and the best snow in years so understandable. Although to be fair in light of the crap weather at home if the snow had been rubbish similar levels of excitement would have been attained.
With half the party taking lessons his usual lazy attitude to skiing (get up around 10ish skiing by 11ish) has gone right out the window and he, Polly and Chris were on the slopes by 0915 on day one and certainly got plenty of miles under their skis, the conditions are close to perfect and the three of them have been hoonering around.
They managed to all meet up for lunch and exchange war stories - after Dafydd had sung the national anthem of course as this picture demonstrates.
Towards the end of the day their laziness did rather undo Polly when they found themselves 10 metres away from a bar and decided they could not be bothered to walk so they would ski down, get a lift back up to above the bar and then ski to it. Unfortunately Polly took a wrong turn and she ended up having to take her skis off, cross a road, climb down some stairs and then clamber down a slope to find the piste again.
with a splendid feel and a great bar.The sense of excitment in the group is palpable and it is given most voice by Nia who is amazingly excitable - mind it is her first ski trip, christmas and the best snow in years so understandable. Although to be fair in light of the crap weather at home if the snow had been rubbish similar levels of excitement would have been attained.
With half the party taking lessons his usual lazy attitude to skiing (get up around 10ish skiing by 11ish) has gone right out the window and he, Polly and Chris were on the slopes by 0915 on day one and certainly got plenty of miles under their skis, the conditions are close to perfect and the three of them have been hoonering around.
They managed to all meet up for lunch and exchange war stories - after Dafydd had sung the national anthem of course as this picture demonstrates.
Towards the end of the day their laziness did rather undo Polly when they found themselves 10 metres away from a bar and decided they could not be bothered to walk so they would ski down, get a lift back up to above the bar and then ski to it. Unfortunately Polly took a wrong turn and she ended up having to take her skis off, cross a road, climb down some stairs and then clamber down a slope to find the piste again.
Skiing at Christmas - the prologue
We at Bogun Towers have been rubbing our hands in anticipation of this most recent skiing trip with the Pofydd 
, Nia, Tudur 
, Christine 
and Chris 
for some time with great excitement at the material that should be made available for out use and your delectation.
With everyone congregating at our kid’s flat in Brum on the last Friday before Christmas their journeys were of varying quality but on arrival with some rejuvenative mulled wine, beers, good humour and haggis spirits were much improved and a good dose of banter was engaged in and the process of briefing Nia and Tudur on all of our kid’s stories was begun.
A very short night’s sleep was had by all before the 0415 alarm call for their flight. Some grumpiness was to be expected but the gentle sense of keen excitement overcame all of that. However Birmingham airport quickly quashed that, the check-in queue was relatively short although it ended with the rather amusing news that despite already paying for his skis to be transported BMI had decided they wanted another £30 or he could whistle Dixie but these little bumps in the road are to be expected.
The queue for security which wound all the way around the terminal was less expected and certainly unwelcome leaving no time for breakfast before boarding. Of course some idiot had decided to try and get his boots on board as hand luggage and had to be sent back to check them in which caused 30 minutes of delay. Eventually a new slot was found and the plane started to trundle down the taxiway but then broke down. 30 minutes later the engineer gave up and they were de-planed ready to be loaded on another plane. Now our kid is a forgiving sort and understands these things happen but the captain decided to lie (presumably to avoid the bad PR of admitting the plane was broken) and claim that the decision to re-plane them was for “operational” reasons due to fuel. A complete load of hogwash…his lies were not helped by the ground-staff announcing that the problem was indeed a knackered plane.
As one can imagine the party’s confidence in BMI was somewhat shaken at this stage and matters were not much improved when this bus turned up as their replacement flight.
, Nia, Tudur 
, Christine 
and Chris 
for some time with great excitement at the material that should be made available for out use and your delectation.
With everyone congregating at our kid’s flat in Brum on the last Friday before Christmas their journeys were of varying quality but on arrival with some rejuvenative mulled wine, beers, good humour and haggis spirits were much improved and a good dose of banter was engaged in and the process of briefing Nia and Tudur on all of our kid’s stories was begun.
A very short night’s sleep was had by all before the 0415 alarm call for their flight. Some grumpiness was to be expected but the gentle sense of keen excitement overcame all of that. However Birmingham airport quickly quashed that, the check-in queue was relatively short although it ended with the rather amusing news that despite already paying for his skis to be transported BMI had decided they wanted another £30 or he could whistle Dixie but these little bumps in the road are to be expected.
The queue for security which wound all the way around the terminal was less expected and certainly unwelcome leaving no time for breakfast before boarding. Of course some idiot had decided to try and get his boots on board as hand luggage and had to be sent back to check them in which caused 30 minutes of delay. Eventually a new slot was found and the plane started to trundle down the taxiway but then broke down. 30 minutes later the engineer gave up and they were de-planed ready to be loaded on another plane. Now our kid is a forgiving sort and understands these things happen but the captain decided to lie (presumably to avoid the bad PR of admitting the plane was broken) and claim that the decision to re-plane them was for “operational” reasons due to fuel. A complete load of hogwash…his lies were not helped by the ground-staff announcing that the problem was indeed a knackered plane.
As one can imagine the party’s confidence in BMI was somewhat shaken at this stage and matters were not much improved when this bus turned up as their replacement flight.
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