As many will know, organising a holiday is stressful for me. Dickhead Tours, a phrase coined by my father to cover my organisational incompetence around holidays (read this if you doubt his wisdom) has sadly been proved an apt aphorism over many years. For this year’s trip to the Outer Hebrides and to avoid another débacle, I even involved the Textiliste this time: she did accommodation and ferries; I undertook the flights and car hire.
To begin with the problem looked like it was going to fall on her side of the line. I mean, can I be blamed for a ferry strike the day we were due to cross from Skye to Harris? Can I be blamed for the operator, Caledonian MacBrayne (I’m really not sure where the ‘Brayne’ bit features in their corporate consciousness) texting us the day before we travelled to tell us that, due to the strike they had rebooked us on the ferry a day earlier. We like to think we can move quickly, the Textiliste and me, but getting from South London to Uig on Skye from a standing start in under seven hours was going to be a stretch.
They offered us a new slot but rather than the Friday as planned it was the Sunday which would severely curtail our time on Harris and Lewis; and especially since our visit to the Harris Tweed weavers was a major component of our holiday that was never going to work.
So, I leapt into action. After all, even if it wasn’t exactly her fault, it was on her watch. I was magnanimous. ‘I’ll sort it out.’ I know, I should have left it to the Textiliste. But soon enough I found us flights from Inverness to Stornoway and back on the days we wanted. I was on a roll. It meant a different car hire but that was easy: I cancelled the first, for collection on the Thursday in Inveness and replaced it with a different one for the Friday when we landed in Stornoway. I checked, doubled checked and triple checked. It was flawless and, well, it was inevitable I’d done something wrong.
The glitch, the fly in the ointment, the splinter as I slid down life’s bannister dawned on me on the flight to Stornoway. The car hire. You see, in the last couple of months the European rules have changed. Now you need a code from the DVLA confirming your licence is valid before you can hire a car. I didn’t know either but Avis warned me a week before we set off. You obtain it on line. All you need to do is fill in some details and out pops a code. It’s valid for 72 hours. I’d obtained mine for a car hire on the Thursday.
Which, of course, was 24 hours earlier than the new booking. By my calculations the 72 hours would expire precisely 17 minutes before we landed in Stornaway.
I could go on line and get a new code; it might delay us maybe 30 minutes in the airport. Only to get the f£$%^&*+g code you need not only your address and driver’s licence number but also your national insurance number.
Who caries this around? You do? Well, bully for you. I don’t.
The Textiliste sat next to me, reading a Quilting magazine, oblivious to the upcoming disaster. I wondered if you can find your NI number on line. How much using taxis to tour the islands might cost. Could I persuade her to cycle? I tried and failed not to sweat. Should I tell her?
I did as we landed. She just smiled, sure it would be ok. Why does that make it seem worse, this trust? But she was right. In the event the nice lady from Hebridean Car Hire never asked about it. They take these sort of new rules with a pinch of salt. It turned out there is a grace period when a waiver can be signed by the driver. That’ll end by August. I’ll not forget again.
I did note that the Textiliste’s smile was a touch steely. I said, ‘You know, this happens every time, doesn’t it? I really ought to stop…’
She smiled a little more.
‘Don’t you think?’ But I know the answer. Every disaster is just another lesson to my wife.
I’ve never heard of that new rule, so thanks for the info! We almost hired a car this month, but decided against it at the last minute, which was probably as well. Having said that, I’ll probably go and ask my husband if he’s heard of the new rule, and he’ll say, “Of course.” And give me a 10 minute lecture on it. (He’s annoying like that.) On the other hand, I’m probably very annoying because I since I was 18 I’ve been able to remember my National Insurance number off by heart.
Judging by your photos, the weather in the Hebrides looks similar to what we had in Shetland. (And now back home too.) I’m thinking of emigrating, once I’ve worked out where the sun always shines…
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I will learn the bloody number. Far too many of you know it and I feel incompetent.
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I’m going to have to learn that darn number. Everyone else seems to have been able to! And it was blissful a few moments apart. . It suited he mood if the piece, I’ll post something more representative on Monday.
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Oh my! The best laid plans and all that. We had quite the experience renting a car in London and attempting to drive to Stratford! Blown tire, GPS speaking to us in Italian, lost in the Cotswolds…
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Now there’s a post. Glad you survived to tell the tale
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I think your issue is not that you’re organisationally challenged, you just have the wrong mind-set. You keep believing you’re booking a holiday when in reality you’re starting an adventure. Everybody knows that adventures come with risk, danger and uncertainty but that’s why they’re so exciting. So next time you arrange a trip away, tell you’re family you’re taking them on an adventure and they can’t complain if things start going tits up!
PS I know my NI number off by heart too.
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I think my rep is too well established. I think they enjoy my discomfort if truth be told.
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Dylan, you insights are very astute. I must remember this although I don’t know whether driving one’s children home from school really should count as an adventure!
I also think that running a holiday according to some really strict schedule sort zaps the life out of it. That there needs to be enough space to wander off the beaten track and appreciate that life is just as much about the journey as the destination.
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Well I agree but if I plan in space and time it is usually in the wrong place.
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I’d love to go there… They have some amazing archeological sites. Did you visit any?
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They do and. E did. Not as many as Shetland but enough standing stones to excite any priapic mason
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What a lovely images lol! I trust the journey home was less traumatic?
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As smooth as a alopecian archbishop
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Haha! Good to hear!
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Dickhead Tours, I like it! Still you managed to get out of this scrape pretty well really Geoff! Don’t want to rub it in, but I also know my NI number too!
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What is it with you people and your NI numbers. Or am I the only one out of step?
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It seems that you are the one that is out of step! 🙂
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Yes. Hard to believe but yes!!
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Bet you are still not going to bother to learn it anyway!!! 🙂 🙂
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True; I really can’t be %^&*()
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Ha! 🙂
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Loved this confession from start to finish- how dull life would be for your wife were you not to be a dickhead (can we say that online before 9 p.m.) – there would be no story, no nail biting, funny asides and wonderful photos to illustrate the point
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No watershed here, Laura. And thank you. I think she lets me go because she wants to see how I manage to blag my way out of my own mess. Marriage, huh? You have to laugh.
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Don’t worry, I have no idea at all what my number is and anyway, if you’d known yours, your article would’ve just been a travel commentary!
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Trust you to make such a down to earth assessment!
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Telling you the day before your scheduled departure that you are leaving a day earlier all sounds a bit mad to me. Both you and the Textiliste both sound very calm about the changes. Are you taking bookings yet? 🙂
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Don’t… people pay good money to see men like me make complete tits of themselves…
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I know I love reading about them! I’m looking forward to the book! 🙂
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Dickhead Tours sounds like it should be in a Carry On film. When it comes to organisation – I mainly do most of it as The Bloke gets a bit flustered… Bloody hilarious post!
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I’m bloody certain the Textiliste lets me do it just to see how I;ll react when it goes tits up. She knows I’ll some how get us out of the self created mess. As Dylan commented, it does turn a relaxing holiday into some sort of Bear Grylls adventure.
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haha, funny. We hired a car on Orkney and I don’t remember anything about a code. I certainly never got a code and I never had a code with me when we picked up the car.
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Good on Orkney for taking a relaxed view. I understand the DVLA have now allowed for a 21 day window for the code to remain valid so you may need it next time.
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The world loves a truer! and God love you! 🙂 😉 🙂 😀
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I understand that the DVLA are relaxing their rules, Geoff (www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-33475879), so that should be one less thing to worry about next time. As for the NI number, as part of my day job I have to ask people for theirs on a regular basis, and never fail to be amazed when they reel them off without thinking. Amazed that they haven’t got something more interesting to store in their memory banks, to be honest…
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Ah, excellent. I will check this out. It certainly caused unnecessary panic! And indeed, why learn random numbers. Though i can still remember my parents first car numberplate and our telephone number from when I was seven. Pretty useful, huh!
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Yes, I can recall a couple of old registration numbers as well. There are times when you wonder whether it’s your mind that’s retentive, or something else…
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something else; ‘It’s alimentary, my dear Graeme’
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I like a happy ending, Geoff! 🙂
As it happens I can remember my NI number, but only because it represents my vital statistics upside down. (or it did, once! 🙂 )
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Now that has me thinking. I wonder if my number represents anything,
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I first read this on Sat. on the sly on my phone while I was attending a pinot noir soiree (try saying that 10 times fast). It was hard to chuckle quietly.
More importantly, however, is that reviewing it on my phone means that I didn’t see the photos, and I am so glad that I did not miss the gingerbread man on the binoculars in particular, which is at the same time perplexing and makes all the sense in the world…
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Thanks Elizabth. Linda took him on the tour. He needs a post of his own.
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I like the sound of Dickhead Tours. Do you have a website, perchance? It’s been a few months since my last chaotic travel experience and I’m about ready for the next one.
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Really Jools think twice. Though if you bring a hip flask with your tipple de jour you should cope.
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Does that apply to Saturday too?
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Oh yes that will be critical for Satirday.
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Hilarious, Geoff. Beautifully written and well illustrated with humorous captions
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Thanks Derrick. It is a wonder she lets me do it still. I suspect she enjoys seeing me get out of the holes I make for myself.
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I’d book a holiday with Dick Head Tours, especially if those very cute talking cows were included. I always end up being navigator on our trips and I can’t read maps and so we end up having a few detours too and this also seems to be a recurring theme on our holidays.
By the way, have you been to Islay? My ancestors on my Dad’s side come from there: the Johnstons. They founded Lefroig Whisky a fact I found on my family history travels. I am busting to go there!
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Yes once or twice. Some friends are off there this week curiously. I think Les is keen in a distillery visit!
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What was Islay like? I have researched the place fairly thoroughly but have never been.
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Picturesque. Rolling hills rather than mountainous. Green. Windy.
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Yes, I know my NI Number off by heart, but ask me for my bank account number and I have absolutely no idea.
Remind me not to book a holiday with you, Geoff. Not that you would ever want me to!!
Looking forward to the next ‘Dickhead Tours’.
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The certainties in life: death, taxes and I will cocky up the holiday planning.
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Hi Geoff,
I read this post and thought you would appreciate the link. https://globetrottingteen.wordpress.com/2015/12/27/idiots-abroad-the-travel-companion-series-part-1/
xx Rowena
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Harriet has linked up. Thanks Row
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You’re welcome, Geoff. I thought you’d enjoy this blog: https://mathemagicalsite.wordpress.com/
It might help with some of those family quizes you mentioned. xx Ro
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Following now. Thanks Row
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You’re welcome. We’ll both gain a few brain cells through reading that blog!
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