The Famous Five Go To Wales * (end)

A Danish Christmas tree illuminated with burni...
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Ok I am going to wrap this up: even I think it is getting a little drawn out and I am writing it.

Throughout this whole ordeal tempers are remarkably calm, the only moment of stress occurs when the plumber arrives. He walks in and quips that it’s a little chilly. No shit Sherlock, we are all still dressed in Arctic gear. The man turns out to be  really nice and calm, but just as he is being shown the toilet issues upstairs, the house phone rings. It is probably Mr D, who is continuously calling to make sure his ceiling hasn’t collapsed. ” Can someone pick up the phone!”  The phone is passed around like a live hand-grenade, no one can find the button to make it work… Fortunately Mr D is a very persistent caller (who wouldn’t be) and by the fourth time he rings, we have found a way to switch the phone on. ” No sir, your roof is still standing and it turns out there are only a few minor problems to do with the frost. The heating can be switched on again.” Grand. We might have omitted the fact that the plumber had to disassemble the whole of Mr and Mrs D’s bathroom to reach the offending part of the toilet… There is a time and a place for these kind of messages.

The heating is switched back on (Yay!) and the plumber asks a very reasonable fee for his services on this Saturday. We would have paid him a kidney each if that would have been necessary but he kindly offers a lift to the cash-machine and brings the girl home again too. Customer service with a capital C, like real it is still possible.

Champagne is opened in celebration and after showers (some of us even had hot water… what can I say, you snooze you lose! ) we went to the local pub where we spent the whole evening being entertained by food, drink, conversation and pool. It confirmed that London-prices are indeed extortionate. On return to the house, we put the Christmas tree up and start decorating. It’s 2am, the house is fully Christmasfied and it is warm. Phew, what a difference a day makes…

by Ju Ju Be


On our last day the sauna works and we use it for an hour before having lunch with our helpful neighbour. We say our goodbyes and pack up the car to return to the Big Smoke. By the time the brothers start cursing the snail pace of the London traffic again and with my head resting on the ironing board that needed to come back too, I can only think it is a fitting end to this crazy weekend.

* Ah yes, if you want to know where in Wales this was, I still have no idea. Even if I could remember the pronunciation, I wouldn’t know how to spell it…

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