Do their jobs make the people like
that, or is that what makes people choose their profession? Perhaps it’s a chicken-or-egg question. What I’m referring to is the professional tic: where some doctors are convinced they’re
suffering from every ailment under the sun and chefs find it hard to sit down
and enjoy a meal without assessing every morsel consumed.
For me it’s a red-pen reaction:
spelling mistakes jump out at me from billboards, menus, you name it. The only
good thing is I don’t go into automatic correction mode quite so much these
days as much experience of seeing the same mistakes again and again now has me
doubting which the correct form is! My sister was housekeeper at Durham Castle
and I tease her about suffering from dust-sensitive
index-finger syndrome: any unsuspecting surface can be almost imperceptibly
swiped and the index-finger surface inspected to see what lurks on that other
surface! Which is why my spring-cleaning was put on fast-forward and into top
gear prior to sis’s arrival here for a wee holiday with her husband.
So, are we born with predisposition within us
and work experience brings it to the fore, or is it just a case of fortuitous
selection, the perfect professional pairing? Whatever it is, I’m happy to say
that her quarters passed muster – or at least I assume they did as we heard no
complaint from our first-of-the-season guests.
And the season was opening, too,
at the Kassandra Mare hotel in Halkidiki,
where we spent a few days by the sea. We had managed to get a really good deal
of bed and breakfast with evening meal included. What struck us right away was
the wonderful location, just by the
beach, and the beautiful pool, framed by palm trees and bushes of every soothing
hue of green. Our rooms were simply furnished, but clean with piping hot water
at any hour of the day; the staff were welcoming, cheery and helpful.
One added bonus: if H ever began
to weary for the company of his doggie, the friendly family pet, Hugo, was
there ready to receive attention- isn’t he a handsome hound?
After having a mosey around in
the afternoon, and meeting on our balcony for cocktails, we went down for
dinner. Now, given we were there on-the-cheap, and that the place had not yet
filled up with guests, we did not expect to have much of a choice at the dinner
buffet. And that’s where we were more than pleasantly
surprised: here is Nana flanked by the spread that she had prepared for us. We like our food and we really liked her good food too.
We had the choice of meat
rissoles served with either Chinese vegetable noodles or chips; there were also
stuffed tomatoes and peppers, pasta and Brussels sprouts. The latter was a real
eye-opener of a dish - cooked beautifully al dente and served with strands of
sweet pepper, it bore no resemblance whatsoever to the over-boiled, watery mush
that is still served Brit-side!
Another dinner we had included
beef cooked with aubergines, fried fish, roasted vegetables and spaghetti
neapolitaine. As if that weren’t enough, Nana encouraged us to sample several
dishes - and then, of course, there was a variety of salads … for
really healthy eating. We all gained pounds but we don’t regret the experience,
so there!
Now pizza for breakfast might not be what you
had in mind, but there were lots of other things to choose from including,
cheese pie, all kinds of cereal, boiled eggs, cheeses, ham, fruit and gorgeous,
creamy Greek yoghurt with honey - yum! Just one problem: hard to concentrate on
your meal when you have a magnificent backdrop to distract you.
Exercise was a must, so off we went to visit
the nearby port of Nea Moudania. We walked along the sea front then up to the
headland, admiring some imposing villas with impeccably maintained gardens.
And just in case we should find
ourselves feeling peckish (??) Marina took us to her taverna-name-sake for a
glass and a nibble. Here we are enjoying our al fresco snack – but take a good
look at that black top I’m wearing for therein lies a tale - and a sorry one at
that.
A very ordinary, recently
purchased, short-sleeved, black M&S top was to be the bane of my holiday. At
the table I noticed the tips of my nails had turned a strange mauve shade – we
put it down to nail varnish. But when I saw that my white watch, handbag and
white trews had all been stained, we could see the top was the culprit.
Thus I found myself at the main store on
Tsimiski Street, about to launch into my complaint for the sales assistant. Now
they said she was responsible for handling complaints – I would have said she
played front-line defence who saw
her role to obstruct, deconstruct, discredit and dismantle any semblance of a
reasoned complaint, to bully a beef, to crush every carp, to whittle away at a
whinge. I hadn’t even extracted the
offending article from the bag when she told me it was no top but jeans that
had caused the stain. Duh – how had jeans stained my white trousers? - I make
no habit of wearing two similar garments simultaneously. When she saw the top
she asked aggressively if I had washed it before wearing … and why not. So much
for my non-salubrious sartorial system. But it was when she dismissively tossed
my trousers aside and said since they were not an M&S product that
compensation for their damage would not be considered – the M&S tag was
readily visible, if one took the trouble to look - that I decided this conversation was over
and I needed to commune at a higher level. In fact, since we were talking –
rather animatedly- about staining, one might say Marks and Sparks flew!
Now I have to say that from here
on in things did improve as far as interaction quality was concerned both from
the local manageress and from the boss in Athens – no, I don’t give up
easily! Call me an infamous grouser if you will, but when I feel something is wrong, I
will fully address it. And my gripe is the store
policy on compensation: that despite the fact that their product was not fit
for purpose – they did compensate in full for that – and had spoiled other items,
only their own products were considered as worthy of compensation. And then - wait for this -
their assessed value was original cost price with devaluation factored in.
I only buy things if I really fall in love
with them and will often keep them as ‘good’ to be worn or used on special
occasions only. Such was my handbag. By dint of colour it was a summer one and
so had seen few outings. The fact that it was now set at a value of only 25
euros when handbags of equivalent style, size and material were on sale in the
store for around 150 euros had me flabbergasted. The items had been ruined and
needed to be replaced. Surely their value should be set at the level of
replacement, i.e. current cost, not as
if one were trading in a battered old banger?
As a Brit living abroad, I’m sure some of you
will understand me when I say that the store, albeit operating on franchise, held
lots of positive associations for me: a strong link with the homeland, like
roast beef and Yorkshire puddings, a product quality that was assumed and
appreciated, Christmas puddings that one rushed to get while stocks lasted.
Store policies are not established to discredit the store standing, they are
not Moses Scripted – they are Man-made
Systems and should be Managed Sensitively.
As a long-term, loyal customer, I
am disappointed to say right now for me M&S means Mean & Stingy.
It’s enough to drive you to drink - which is
why our next stop was a visit to the Gerovassiliou
winery.
More on that next time - Cheers!
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