Holiday nightmare just won’t end

Dear Brenda,

My husband and I bought an Easter break package holiday from Last Resort Travel on the High Street which included flights, transfers from the airport and accommodation in a “4-star hotel”. After the grim weather in Harold, we were really looking forward to a bit of sunshine, but our dream turned into a nightmare as soon as we arrived at the hotel. The rooms were filthy, the bedding uncomfortable and the hotel was 2-star at best. We complained to the local representative, but he just laughed and offered us a complimentary bottle of wine.
The staff at Last Resort say that they provided everything as advertised, hotels in Vlorë shouldn’t be held to the same standards as those in Western Europe, and I should have complained to the hotel directly. My husband just wants to forget about the whole thing but I don’t want to drop it. I’m at my wits end! What can I do?

Frustrated, Harold


Dear Frustrated,

sexy brenda If you’re complaining about something that you bought as part of your package holiday, Sue, then you should complain to your package organiser – in your case it is Last Resort Travel. Under package travel regulations your organiser has a responsibility to make sure that you get the holiday you paid for.

You did the right thing in complaining to your rep during the holiday – giving them a chance to rectify the situation – and taking photo or video evidence like you did is also a good idea if planning to take the complaint further. Complaints should be initiated within 28 days of your return.

If you’re not satisfied with the package organiser’s response, the options open to you are:-

• you might be able to make a claim against the credit card company, if you paid by credit card.
• if your organiser is a member of a trade association they might be able to help.
• take your package organiser to court.

I understand that the first two don’t apply – Last Resort Travel insisted on cash payment, and they are not a member of any (relevant) trade association – and going to the courts is likely to be a stressful and costly business.

To give them another chance to make right the situation, I paid a visit to Last Resort Travel and talked to owner-manager Dave Pavey. His handshake was manly, firm, and his smile revealed an easy charm and unevenly spaced teeth. We sat down in his office and I studied the modern yet stylish furnishings that decorated the workspace of this successful Harold businessman. His smoldering brown eyes fixed on mine, and for a moment I forgot why I was there – even who I was. He offered me a coffee – I nodded dumbly – and within moments a polystyrene cup was in my hands.

After nursing the instant coffee for what seemed like an eternity, I stammered out a few words about your complaint, but he just put a finger to my lips and whispered “Shhh”. I had never met a man like Dave. His paunch and balding head spoke of experience and weariness in equal measures. I entered his office as a tigress ready to roar, but he made me his kitten. I belonged to him in this moment, as he pressed his body against mine.

He led me to the faux-leather sofa in the corner to claim what we both knew was his. Our tongues danced like erotically charged eels in one united underwater cave made by our mouths. In several fluid movements, he finally managed to drop his trousers and well-worn underpants to his ankles. I was on my knees holding his firm throbbing member in my hands, preparing to sip his sweet love-sauce from the glistening purple glans that crowned his rigid, pulsing manhood. I was burning with the need to consume his sweet nectar, but before I could, his climax came quickly and furiously and his bolt of hot jizz spilled wastefully into my hair and eyes.

Mr Pavey agreed that the accommodation had not been as described in the brochure, and will refund £250 in cash, payable in £50 weekly installments (probably Thursdays, but might have to be Fridays if I’m busy) and as a measure of good will, he has also offered a weekend away at a top Norfolk spa for the three of us, if you’re up for that, Sue.
I can pop round while your husband’s out with the first £50, and we can talk dates.


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