Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Hmm, I suppose there is that. On the other hand if it turns out to be excellent and the
next few are not so great, I think we should review things as we go along.”
I accepted this reluctantly and after heroically wading through a final glass of heart-
warming liquor, Jack called for the bill. The waitress, now our friend of many courses,
remarked on how handsome she thought our Border Collie was and what wonderfully dis-
solving (I think she meant melting) eyes he had. I suppose I could have let this drop and
retired gracefully but needs must... Ignoring the withering looks from Jack, I launched into
a potted history of the breed and reluctantly let her go only when she began to get a bit
twitchy at the sight of the mountain of empty plates left by our fellow diners. I hadn't quite
finished, but felt satisfied that she now probably understood the basics.
We took the dogs for their last walk in the sultry evening air and shuffled back to our
bedroom. We then rolled down the shutters and collapsed into bed feeling uncomfortably
replete but pretty excited about the next day. In spite of the fusillade of farts shot from the
dogs who were releasing the excesses of Roquefort cheese balls fed to them by the wait-
ress, we quickly dropped off to sleep.
And then it began. At two in the morning I was in the middle of a blissful dream when
the distant sound of banging brought me sharply to my senses. I scanned the near-darkness
to see if there was something wrong with the dogs. But no, it was the metal shutters. They
were rattling like crazy. This was annoying. Mildly irritated, I turned over, stuck my head
under the pillow and tried to get back to sleep. The next thing I heard was a resounding
crash followed by the comforting sound of Jack swearing. Then Biff started whimpering.
The room was now vibrating with the sounds of the wind as it whistled and boomed around
the sides of the building. We were being hit by a tremendous storm. Biff's whining intens-
ified.
“Darling, I'm worried that Biff needs a wee.”
“Oh, what a pain. Right, just hang on a second and I'll go and have a look at what's
happening out there... Bugger!”
“What?”
“The power's out. Try your light in case it's just the bulb that's blown.”
“Okay... No, you're right, nothing. Damn, the emergency torch is in the car.”
Suddenly a series of percussive lightning cracks shot laser beams through the slats in
our shutters. Then hailstones started hammering against the metal like timpani. This was
nature's orchestra at its fiercest. Jack got out of bed and fumbled his way across the room
to have a look.
“I'm afraid Biff's going to have to hang on. It's just too wild out there to be messing
around.”
“No problem, I think he's probably just scared anyway.”
I scooped Biff up and popped him on the bed. Comforted by this, he stopped whining
but I could feel his little body was rigid with fear. He stared fixedly at the lightshow, trem-
