A mammoth undertaking

Imagine the following scenario:

Someone who is highly allergic to feathers books a short break at a comfortable but idiosyncratic hotel, making sure to specify “no feather pillows or bedding” on the booking. On arrival they check the pillow and duvet. Hmmm, seem to be microfibre. That’s ok. Off they go to a birthday dinner at the hotel where rather too much pink champagne is drunk. (Actually, scrub that last detail. I don’t think one can have too much pink champagne!) Rather late that night they collapse into bed, only to find that they were wrong about the pillows – they’re goose-down not microfibre. Cue massive allergic reaction leading to major asthma attack. On descending to the hotel reception, unable to breathe and with a horrible rasping cough, it’s clear that the receptionists have clocked off for the evening and there’s no sign of the night porter. Fortunately the maitre d’ is still around, as the party is still in full swing. He and a junior waiter raid the housekeeper’s store to find some synthetic pillows and clean pillowcases, and promise to tell Housekeeping of the near miss the next morning.

After copious quantities of prescription medicine and several hours of sleepless wheezing, disaster is averted. But after a very pleasant breakfast the next morning, the victim goes back to their bedroom to find the chambermaid had made up the bed afresh – with more feather pillows! To paraphrase Lady Bracknell, once might be an unfortunate accident, but twice looks suspiciously like attempted murder! I’m sure that Agatha Christie could pad that basic outline out into a full novel – probably starring Miss Marple as another hotel guest.

But apart from the unfortunate (and very unpleasant) incidents with the bedding, I thoroughly enjoyed myself on a short break in Sussex last week for my sister’s birthday. The chambermaid, however, did not get a tip!