Local Heart, Global Soul

October 3, 2019

Rude Information?

Peeling carrots recently, I came across this little gem. I will leave it to you to decide how to look at it… is this carrot giving me Information? Or representing something more rude? Or a combination of them both…. Rude Information!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

September 11, 2010

A matching set of silver suitcases and shuttle bus shock…

Filed under: PORTUGAL — kiwidutch @ 1:00 am
Tags: , , , , ,

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

By the time we collect our main bags it’s way gone midnight in Oporto, Portugal. We step out of the airport and stand next to a sign where several car hire company shuttle buses operate, ferrying passengers to their  Office headquarters a few minutes drive away.

Family Kiwidutch wait patiently as several shuttles sweep into the space, and out again loaded with passengers, but none of them bear the logo of the company we are using so we hop restlessly from one foot to the other as we wait at the curb.

After fifteen minutes a family emerges from the terminal,  four kids and Mama and Papa.., they are all speaking Dutch, and the kids are all older than ours.  They all have matching silver suitcases which the teen boys are leaning on and spinning around. They congregate by the door of the building, whilst we wait at the curb.

Then Himself spies our shuttle bus.. and picks up our main bags off the trolley whilst I start to pick up the camera bag, hand luggage etc. Suddenly the woman from the other family is in front of us and  gives me a really strong look that I didn’t quite comprehend at first,  pushes past and starts shoving their bags on the shuttle the instant the back doors are open, as their kids scramble inside and grab seats…

Ookeee, I think… Pushy and Rude since we have been waiting a lot longer then them…  Himself rounds the back doors of the bus literally 10 seconds later to be huffily told by the bus driver, “sorry No more Room, you have to wait for the next shuttle!”   ….. err WHAT????!!!

Himself swiftly switches to Portuguese and calmly explains that we were here first and have been waiting from rather a long time before this family even turned up.. surely there is room for both families?

We are both standing there calm and smiling, expecting this to be swiftly sorted out  until the driver repeats vehemently that we may not get on the bus, that there will be no space for our luggage, slams the back doors, jumps in and drives off.  The realisation of what just happened hits me a full two seconds later and I half detonated with anger.

The look that the woman had flashed me was now crystal clear, she knew we had been waiting longest and were first in the queue… but she didn’t care.

Our tired kids were almost in tears as soon as the realisation set in that the bus had left without us. Even Himself, usually a calm soul, was looking rather peed-off and grim.  People further behind us commented to us that they had seen what had happened and that they too saw that the woman clearly knew that we were first but that she couldn’t be bothered to wait her turn.

We lamented the completed rudeness of some people and were ashamed at the behaviour of these fellow Dutch abroad.

Another 15 minutes later, the bus was back and we managed to get not only our family on board, but also the next one behind us.  A short dive later, we arrive at the rental car office… and outside, as I get out, I spy a set of matching silver suitcases and four kids…

The B**** Mother was a short distance away rather obviously avoiding eye contact and even though I was fuming at her rudeness, I kept my thoughts and opinions to myself and Himself went inside to do the paper work.  I stayed with a now near sleeping Little Mr., Kiwi Daughter and the bags.

Five minutes later,  Mrs Rude’s husband emerged from inside the office.. he came over to me  and offered some very sincere apologies that they had jumped the queue and that we had been left behind. It seems that he at least, was genuinely unaware that we were about to get on board, and he was mortified.

Meantime, his wife was pacing up and down further off  looking down her nose and throwing me dirty looks… it’s blatantly clear that she engineered the stampede for the bus and that she is far from sorry.

He seems a nice guy and by the hard remorseless look on his wife’s face and the very embarrassed look on his, I conclude that thing kind of thing has probably happened before. Poor man, he has my sympathy.

Himself emerges from the office five minutes later and a guy brings our car from around the back… after the mutual inspection routine we load up and head wearily to the hotel.

As long as we don’t see a set of matching silver suitcases and certain family in the hotel we are going to, or any time anywhere else in our holiday,   I will be very very happy indeed…

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