So, with that as an impromptu preamble, here goes. . . .
Blogging is something that I thought I would never do, but here I am writing these words on my blog generating page, and if you are reading them then I was successful in posting them.
Diving into the Internet is a little scary, like diving into the sea, so let's talk about that for my first post.
In 1986, I had the good fortune to visit the Maldives with my partner, M. We stayed on a little island in the south atoll called Biyaadhoo, and our hotel was basically the only large structure on the island. It was like being in Paradise. It is a very small island, and one can walk around the whole thing in about 20 minutes. But getting there from Japan was a bit of a trek.We flew on Air Lanka, and flew first from Tokyo to Bangkok, and then continued on to Colombo, Sri Lanka, where we had a short stopover. I don't remember changing planes, but they came and checked our planes and we had to point out which bag was ours before they would put it back on the plane. From Colombo we flew to Malé, the small skinny island in the south of the north atoll that serves as the international airport for the Maldives. The runway is just barely long enough, and it looked like we might overshoot it and slide right into the Indian Ocean, but stop we did. On arriving, we got our bags and made our way to the boat that was the carry us to the south atoll to our own private resort island. Wow!
The voyage was uneventful and we arrived smoothly and on time. After we were all checked in and settled in our room, however, there was a slight problem. There was a phone call from the Front Desk, and they wanted some help with a Japanese tourist who did not understand any English so no one could understand her and she couldn't understand them. They asked if we could possibly help them , and of course M and I went right down. A young girl, Ms. S, had gotten on our boat by mistake and had no reservation. She also had no way of getting anywhere else, as the boat comes only once a week and had already gone. She spoke nothing but Japanese and the Manager was really having a hard time. When he realized I could speak Japanese, he called my room and asked if I would be willing to help him, so I said, "Of course," and promptly went to the Front Desk. There was this young Japanese girl in her mid-twenties looking lost and bewildered and not understanding a thing the hotel was trying to tell. She was shouting that she had reserved a room and wanted to check in. I asked the hotel what the problem was and interpreted for them, explaining her tale to the hotel. It was at this point that we all figured out that she had taken the wrong boat and come to the wrong resort. The hotel said that they could not honor her voucher for another property, but they did have a room she could use, but she would have to pay for it. They did offer her a discount, given the situation, and, although she was very displeased and unhappy, she finally accepted, perhaps gratefully, but not very gracefully. (She actually had no choice, as there was no way she could go anywhere else, except perhaps the nearby Villingilivaru, but it would not have been any different there, and I don't even remember there being a resort on that island in those days. And, as is turns out, the company she had purchased the tour from finally agreed to forward her payment to this resort instead of the one she had actually made a reservation at; but, if I recall, she did have to pay a slight difference.) We eventually got everything sorted out, and, rather unwillingly, it seemed, she thanked us, the hotel thanked us, and then my partner and I retired to our rooms to clam down a rest. A few hours later we had a very quick dinner, after which we fell into our beds, it having taken about 24 hours just to get there. We hoped to sleep till about noon!
Imagine our shock and surprise when there was loud pounding on the door at about 7 AM the next morning. I groggily got out of bed, threw a pair of shorts on, and answered the door. It was Ms. S. and she wanted to know if one of us would go diving with her today. She came to the Maldives to dive and needed a buddy, and wondered if either of us wanted to go with her. I looked at her and said something like, "Sorry, but we don't dive. What I really want to do is go back to sleep!" She looked quite annoyed and a little angry, so I quickly said, "Sorry!" once again and shut the door. She stormed off and we dove back into our beds and swiftly went back to sleep.
I was astonished at how uncaring and rude she was. She had been rude with the hotel staff and now with us, and we decided we didn't want to have anything else to do with her while staying there.
But the adventure continued. . . .
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