EVENING MEAL at the CALADONIAN HOTEL, Oban

This Scottish thing is beginning to turn into a full on whinge …..

We ate at the CALADONIAN HOTEL, a 4 star hotel – really??

The waiting staff had no idea of grooming and appeared to have been chosen by a man under strict instructions by his wife, their charms, to be well hidden for fear of inflaming the staff and/or customers.

My meal was in pitta bread and came with chips. I didn't want chips. That seemed a major challenge to the charmless one. Could I have extra salad instead? Could I? Hmmm she'd see what the chef could do, but held out little hope.

What arrived was a long, toasted, floury bap. I asked if it was my meal, as I expected pitta bread.

Two charmless ones told me, in no uncertain terms, that this was pitta bread.

No ladies, it wasn't. Please tell your 'chef'. AND while you're at it, why was the tiny amount of salad I was served (not any extra) so limp it was chewy? The filling in the bap was nice though.

AM I HAPPY NOW???  

No, simply disappointed at your shabby attempt to be sheik.

The Kelvin Hotel, Oban. Friday 9.7.10

What is it about Scotland?         

Admittedly it's come a long way since I first came here as a small child (Scots grand dad), but , boy has it got a way to go before it's in any way up to par.

The hotel needed a scrub, some new stair carpet and it's breakfast arrangements sorted; oh and our shower didn't work (room 5) and Grahams soap dish was fixed on upside down (room 3) causing the soap to slide off!

We chose the place because it cost enough to be smart AND is opposite the ferry terminal and serves breakfast as part of the deal.

PERFECT.

Their idea of breakfast, for people who are catching the 8.30am ferry, is to do table service from 7.30am. Got to get to the ferry by 7.45am, so no time to order and then wait for food to be cooked, let alone eat it as well. They did have continental brekky, it was about as minimal as possible.

The staff were pleasant, but inflexible.

So, KELVIN HOTEL, OBAN, you seem to be missing the point: we're the CUSTOMERS, you're selling a SERVICE.

WHICH PART OF CUSTOMER SERVICE DON'T YOU GET?

Or is it part of your business plan to have a dozen customers in a place that can accommodate something like 40 people? Less than half full at the height of the tourist season? Gotta be time to look at what you're offering, and here's a suggestion -

Get yourselves to INNIS CHONAIN GUEST HOUSE, about half what we paid, clean, smart and brekky from 5.30am. While you're there, open your eyes and mind and take note/s.

PLEASE

On the up side: we'll use THE KELVIN SCALE against which to judge all services and accommodation   we meet in future. 

The Kelvin Hotel scores a full 10, a score, I'm sure you'll agree, to be avoided at all costs by anyone involved in hospitality.

Oh Poo! - Monday 21.6.10

Came home today and this was outside our gate.

I added the COCKTAIL BROLLY! 

JOLLY BROLLY.

Who lets their dog do that; on a pavement; near a gateway?

A TOTAL MORON. 

I wrote a little message on the brolly before I stuck it in the poo.

I hope the owner of the dog got a look at it, because the next day ... 

THE BROLLY WAS GONE!!????

Who the hell nicks anything from a pile of poo?

A MORON!

FUNNY OLD WORLD.

PS. Monday 28.6.10.  It's been a week of unrelenting sun. The brolly may have gone on day 2 of poo, but the poo pile is still out there, dusty and dry. HMMM lovely. Thank you once again, you total moron.

All Fur Coat And No Knickers! - Friday 11th June 2010

Two new houses have been built in Uley, right on the edge of the Millennium Green. 

They're not at all attractive, in fact quite timid designs really. But that's not what's so annoying. No, the thing that annoyed me was the size of the larger house. It's too big, squatting like a big, old Brahma hen amongst a flock of Bantams. Looks ridiculous. 

Also looks  as if they ran out of roof tiles, there's a definite mismatch there. 

The real horror here is, a house that should be on at least a third of an acre, has been squashed onto a TINY PLOT. Losing the garden area allowed enough space to SQUEEZE  in another house. Again, no room for a garden. And all this in what was a garden.

Grand houses in pauper sized gardens. Reminds me of  SANDBANKS in Dorset, all lined up, cheek by jowl along  the sea shore. Can't wait for all the rest of the houses along the edge of the Millennium Green to develop their gardens, so that we have a solid run of houses to admire as we stroll around the flower meadow. 

ALL FUR COAT AND NO KNICKERS

The Passage To India

I love The Passage To India, best curry in the area, and despite a member of their staff telling off my loved up friends for KISSING in the restaurant, it still rates with me.

SO WHY A SLOT IN WHINGER?

This is why:

Last weekend these leaflets were thrown into our garden. This is a common occurrence, happening most weekends to the houses at this end of  Nailsworth.  It's irritating. Those of us on the receiving end of this delinquency, tidy up and have done with it.
We're a long suffering bunch. 

However, it's getting silly, and is wasteful, and messy, and must be costing The Passage To India money to replace them. 


They probably think people are keen to have them and, as a result, top them up with more, as demand for them  appears to be increasing. I called in earlier this week to let them know what was going on and to suggest they put less out in future.

Today it was my neighbour's turn.

It was good to see less than usual, but ....

let's be frank: this is a mess.

I let The Passage To India know and a chap I'd seen before came to my neighbours. He refused to walk the few feet to my place. We discussed where to go with this in the future. He seemed to feel it wasn't really his problem.

Quite right  Passage To India,

 IT'S OUR PROBLEM

He went back to The Passage To India.

I  scooped up both lots of leaflets and returned them to the restaurant. In future I will do this every time this happens.

I AM, IN NO WAY, A LITTLE WOMAN - DON'T FEEL IT PLEASES ME TO BE PATRONIZED.


PS. Monday 28.6.10.  No more leaflets have been left out by The Passage To India since my whinge. It's made a great difference to the quality of my days off. Thank you, I am truly chuffed.

Doctors Receptionists, Nature or Nurture?

Popped into our surgery at the end of last week. Nothing serious.

The receptionist asked the usual opening questions as she stared at a hidden computer screen. All the while she made tapping sounds on the, equally well hidden, keyboard.

Oh, She muttered, There's nothing on your screen.

Am I dead? I asked her.

No. Um. I need to talk to a doctor. One moment please.

And with that, she stood up and walked away from the hatch, leaving me wondering if I even existed at all. She hadn't made eye contact once. If she had, she would have noticed me taking notes of our, now what shall I call it? Lets be charitable, just this once: conversation. She might also have spotted the big grin  on my face, caused in no small part by her complete lack of, now what shall I call this? Lets be charitable again, shall we: sense of  humour?

For some people the only human contact they get is at doctors. A sunny welcome is all many of us need to help us feel better. 

What does it cost?

*Interview time
*Training time
*Secret Shoppers time

Who knows? 

All I know is, she was rude. Not the most desirable trait in any member of staff, even less when front of house and dealing with often scared and vulnerable members of the public.

Get it sorted Prices MillSurgery.

Why are doctors receptionists so rude? ..... Link No1  Link No2  link No3

No Need

Why do some people feel it's OK to annoy me?

Got a letter today from Environmental Health. Not to say your house is a disaster, tidy it up. No. It was to say we've been using 'power tools for DIY garden clearance' ???? 

Not us gov. 

Even the DIY has been done using hand tools... apart from the 70 nor so holes I drilled in my 3 x 3 timber battens and the 5 passes I made to a metre long mock lintel. 

Who did it..... Who dobbed us in? 

 I can guess.

But what does it matter?

This is how I feel right now.

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