Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
We'd agreed to meet James in the picnic area so the dogs could potter about. Here we
could mull over the morning's visit whilst eating lunch.
“Why don't I pop out with the dogs and wait while you park the car?” I said, as we
drew up alongside the tables. “Look,” I added, “there's a perfect spot, not a soul about.”
“Right-ho, good idea, after listening to all that bellyaching I'm starving,” came the
reply.
As I got out of the car the door was almost ripped out of my hand by a savage gust of
icy-cold wind.
“Careful, darling,” said Jack “I can't stick car doors back on with the dreaded sticky-
tape you know.”
“I'm doing my best,” I gasped, “but this wind is incredibly strong. I knew the car was
buffeted a bit on the way here, but this is serious. I can barely close it.”
“Oh, just put your back into it. As it is we've hardly got a chassis left on this bugger
and you're making things
much
worse,” he bawled. “And don't even think of opening the
rear door or it'll get ripped off and you'll end up paragliding to the Mediterranean.”
I attempted a thumbs-up, fought the door shut and searched for the most sheltered spot
available. After 20 minutes or so I was beginning to wonder why it had taken so long to
slot the car in a space. At times like this there's always that nagging concern that Jack had
encountered another motorist vying for the same position, a situation that invariably ends
in tears.
Fortunately there was nothing to worry about. I spotted James with Jack and the
dogs forging their ways towards me from the restaurant armed with brown bags emblaz-
oned with a suspiciously familiar non-French logo (an irritating favourite buying choice
of Jack's when I'm not in charge of the catering arrangements). They plonked the refresh-
ments down in front of me to hang on to, while they attached the dogs to the picnic table
legs.
“Good God,” exclaimed Jack as he sat down. “No wonder the tables are nailed down,
I had to get Biff tethered up quickly otherwise he'd have turned into a windsock.”
“Yes, quite a stiff breeze here isn't it?” said James breathlessly, as he watched me
wrestling with food wrappings and escapee condiment sachets. “Anyway, what did you
think of the property? I think it might be one of the most interesting on our topics.”
“Yes,
interesting
is certainly one way of putting it,” replied Jack. “Have you con-
sidered marketing the property in Chicago?”
This reference to the 'windy city' completely escaped James' sense of humour so,
whilst he was contemplating the implications, as a gap-filler, I asked him whether gales
were a common feature of the area. Jack rounded on me.
“Look, there are windsocks on the autoroute, but there's no airport nearby. These very
heavy picnic tables are secured with bolts bigger than those on the Eiffel Tower. And by the
