My life 2

Gooseherding is not on my cv

When my friend C was over for a visit last week, she asked me: what was the best job you ever had? It required some thinking, but I did come up with an answer. And decided it would make a perfect post!

The best job I ever had, was the touring job I had while living and working in the Netherlands. Taking people to see different places around Europe and making them (hopefully) fall in love with that area. I got to drive a lot and to see a lot as well and absolutely loved it. For the most part. 

Not exactly the stage, more like the waterfall in the pool
I am in the middle

But hold on, wasn't the best job the job in Italy? Well, yes actually! I grew up on Sicily. It was the first time I ever yelled back at a boss and it empowered me. Before I was quite a shy person and it would take a while for me to come out and ask people ordinary things. But after that, I was a lot bolder. Besides that, I worked with lots of people and met lots of children who were always fun. I danced on stage, I played the clown, I was tanned and thin and in shape. I loved it! For the most part.

One of my favourite view points with the bus

Because the job I have now is fantastic! The surroundings here are beautiful and it is a joy to see the sun come up over the mountains and the mist over the sea as I am driving to my first pick-up point. I still get to drive a lot and hopefully make people smile, which is a lot harder in public transport I can tell you!

All the jobs I had (with a few exceptions) were great. Because I realised quite early on: if I don't like a job, don't do it and find another one. No need to miserable!

Pride in your work

One of my many many jobs

Yesterday I told you a tiny bit about all the jobs I had. And when I say tiny, I mean miniscule. I once made a resumé with all the jobs on. It was over four pages long and only listed, it didn't explain anything. I had to scale it down considerably and am still on two pages!! I might actually tell you some stories pretty soon, since there is so much to tell, but right now I will continue with the thought I had yesterday. 

Now, while I was still living in the Netherlands and working as a coach driver I had to take several courses. Like the one I did on First Aid. The courses had to be taken to get our code 95 as it is named in the Netherlands. Basically, every professional large vehicle driver (goods and people) has to do 35 hours of training every 5 years. Out of those 35 hours, 7 have to be practical. I did 28 hours back in the Netherlands. And then I quit, which meant my boss wasn't going to fork out for the last course. 

When I came to Norway therefore, I had to take the last course, but nooooo, over here they say you have to take the courses within a certain amount of time. Besides I hadn't gotten hold of the official certificates I needed, so I needed to do the whole 35 hours again. This week I finally got to do them. 

Parking. Just not for tanks!

We started on Tuesday, getting through dry laws and how a motor works (I never understood in Dutch, let alone in Norwegian). On Wednesday it was Thursday and we did more laws and more dry stuff. On Thursday it was Wednesday and we got a crash course in CPR and fire fighting, were explained about food and movement, responsibility and tunnels and a few more laws.

Today will be another theory day and then tomorrow will be driving day. And after that I will get my code 95. However, where it is just called code 95 in the Netherlands, here in Norway it is called YSK (Yrkes Sjafør Kompetanse), which translates to Professional Driver Competancy. Doesn't that just sound a whole lot more grown-up and proud? 

I am proud of my work and proud of all I have achieved over the last 14 years. And I am proud to soon be able to have that pride show on my license. 

Careermove

Nursing an aunt with a concussion! Age 15 or 16

Did I ever tell you about my career wishes? About how I wanted to be a nurse since the age of 4? I didn't? Well, that certainly is an oversight on my part. Because I did. Want to be a nurse that is, from the age of 4. Influenced by some sisters of some order or other who were nurses in Upper Volta (Burkina Faso) in Africa. When I was four we had an action week at school and it stuck. I wanted to be a nurse. 

By the age of 15 I didn't anymore. Well, I did and didn't at the same time. I wanted to be a pediatric nurse, but since there are no separate pediatric nurse trainings and I wasn't feeling much for the general side, I lost my interest pretty much. However, all the classes I took were geared towards nursing: mathematics, biology, chemistry. Oh, plus Dutch, English and German. By the time I was 16/17 and trying to get into a course (preferably practical), all the hospitals told me no. They weren't interested, because I wasn't interested. 

One of many excursions during my year at the tourism school

So, it was a career swith. Since we were due to move (which never happened), I looked for and found a school that dealt with tourism. Incoming tourism to be more exact. And from then on my life changed. I failed that course, but by the time I found that out, I was already working in Yugoslavia! My first job since you ask, since I never had any summer or after school jobs. I was too busy doing nothing. 

Fast forward a few years and a few countries (Belgium, Italy, France, England) and I finally moved back home. But after a few years temping and working in such exciting places like a milk powder factory, mail rooms and a biscuit factory, I moved up: a job on the trains, selling snacks and drinks. I had already thought of a different career though: the army! Yes, I wanted to be a driver in the army, despite what my Dad thought about the subject (he was army and thought it was no place for women and if there was: it would be office only. Me and office don't go together). Well, you may realise I never got in. I was mentally okay, but physically? That's a story for another day!

During my first year as a busdriver

My Dad then gave me the only good career advice ever (he had tried once with air hostess, not his best, even he will probably admit): why not try and get your buslicense? And here I am, fourteen and a bit years later, driving a bus for a living. And loving it! Because I love driving and I love interacting with people. I have been all over the place, from as far south as Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast in Italy to north to the Highlands of Scotland. I have been looking at the Atlantic Ocean from Waterville which is situated in the West of Ireland and I have almost been at touching distance to the Polish border in the far East of Germany. 

I have had my palm read by a gypsy in Southern France, walked in mud in Denmark, visited a Champagne house in France, been in a gondola in Venice, saw owls in the Lake District, England and lots and lots more. And for the past 9 months I have been living it up here in Norway. 

In Ireland!

More to come tomorrow!

Result!

Every day this week I had anticipated mail from the Netherlands. And even though I did have mail from the Netherlands every single day (apart from New Year's Day obviously), it never was what I wanted it to be. 

Now, the mail arrives sometime around midday and today I would only be working until about 1pm. I needed groceries, but decided I would go uphill first to see whether there was mail from the Netherlands. Which there was. And it was the letter I had so hoped of finding: it was the proof of me being a good girl!

I tell you, I was really happy and nearly skipped down hill again. A colleague dropped me off in the vicinity of the police station, where I was told by the police officer at the front desk that it would take between 2 and 4 weeks! When I questioned him, he told me to go talk to the people downstairs. Who then told me it never took that long. If I had all the required paperwork it could even be a matter of less than an hour. Unfortunately their computer system was down (she said), but my driver's note would be ready and waiting for me on Monday!

So, as of Monday I will be able to do more driving than just empty driving (I did another bout of it today) and can finally do my job the way I am supposed to! 

Yeah!

Bus! What bus?

View from my (very dirty) window

I had to be in the office today at 8am and when I got there, it didn't take long for the instructor and the other 'student' to arrive. We introduced ourselves and it became pretty obvious that I wasn't the only Dutch person working for the company, the other student was also from the Netherlands, albeit a few years ago. Now, for anonimity reasons I will call him Mr Slinger (for obvious reasons to me and some of the people who worked with me in the Netherlands). 

Anyway, the first thing after introductions was tell a little about ourselves, which took all of five minutes and then we got to work: how to work the little board computer, which apparently is an extremely important piece of equipment. Not only is it a machine that tells you where you are on the route, it also sells tickets! And there are many of them. Very many. Fortunately we don't have to know them all: there is no train anywhere near here (the nearest is Stavanger, an hour and a half away on good roads), we don't deal with boat/ferry tickets either and the other three concessions in this province (Rogaland) are served by other companies and we don't sell tickets for their areas. 

Early in the afternoon I had to leave though, since I had a doctor's appointment. She checked my eyes, my blood pressure, my heart (by listening to it). She looked into my throat and I had to say Aaaah, she asked whether I could hear well from four meters, she asked about tremors and spasms and diabetes and after all that, she gave me a piece of paper that I need to hand in to get my driver's note. I think, they kept talking about my driver's licence, but that cannot be renewed just yet, since I haven't got my final course work done yet. 

When I got back to the office, the teacher and the student had already left, so I went shopping to get some food in. Now, if you have read this post carefully, you might have noticed there has not been any talk of a bus and that's because the only buses I saw today were the ones I took to and from the doctor's office! I don't know when I will start getting to know the routes, but I will find that out in due course. Tomorrow I have to start at 10am (loving this job so far), so it will have to be an early night (as if) for me!

Ha det!

Progress

It has been a bit of radio silence from me. I wasn't far from the computer at all though: I was almost constantly on it! Making list after list of the stuff I have packed so far (about 20 boxes in all, I think about 20-25 to go). Making a list of all the things I would have to do: cancel, request, find out, do, not do! And then this morning I finally was able to quit my current job.

Yes, you read right: I was able to quit my job, since I had received my contract. It was a bit of relief on my part I can tell you. Telling everyone I had a job and then not getting a contract played havoc on my innards, but eventually I got it. And as of now I have so many things to do and settle and whatever. 

I settled on a moving company. I quit. I went to the town hall, to the bank, to the optician's. I requested certificates, notes and whatevers (they are the funny pink doodahs that lurk in the thingymebob). I packed and packed. I booked a flight and I "booked" accommodation for my two monsters. Because as luck or bad luck would have it: they cannot come just now! 

Unfortunately the time span in which the monsters would be allowed on is from April 1st until October 31st. I am travelling at the end of November. The reason: the cold and an unheated hold would mean the monsters might freeze to death. Fortunately I have a very good friend who sometimes goes by the name of Pepperfly who has offered to take them in: either temporarily or permanently. It will be sad not to have them there, but it might perhaps be easier as well. 

Anyway, enough of the bad news. I HAVE A JOB!!!

Oh my, oh my!

After I let it sink in yesterday and told my colleagues about it, I got on the phone today to talk to the manager over in Norway. I can't say I understood every single word he said, but he understood what I said, which was good. He asked me again when I could start and I told him: December. He said November would be good too, but I stuck to my guns: I need the time! We talked a little more, most of which (I am sorry to say) went right over my head, but when he asked whether I needed help with a house search I did tell him yes, and mind the cats as well!

So, now I am waiting for a contract to sign, because I will not quit my current job until I have written proof that I have a new one. No point in ending up on the dole! I've already told my boss that I have a new job, pending the contract of course and I have already contacted two moving companies. One has already sent me a quote, but it needs a bit of revision and the other one needs to look at my stuff and then give me a quote.

Right now I can still hardly believe that the thing I have worked towards for so long (seven years I think it is, even if it was Canada before Norway) is about to happen. I am about to start a whole new chapter of my life. And I can tell you already: I will have several sleepless nights coming up!

Isn't it always the case?

As you know I have been looking for a job in Norway for a couple of months now and in August I even had an interview and a test drive in Bergen, Norway. I felt the interview went fine, didn't think I did too badly on the driving part and was eagerly awaiting the result. Which I wrote about here! Ever since then however, there was complete radio silence. Which was annoying to say the least, because you want things to be moving along. Fast, faster, fastest!!!

So, this weekend I started looking for another job. In Lillehammer (where they speak Bokmal) or Horten (also: Bokmal). It took me hours to come up with an application letter, but on Sunday night I emailed two of them, together with my cv. And again I expected news within a day. Preferably even sooner, but that would be ridiculous, even I know that. 

Well, it wasn't a day, it was two days. But it wasn't from either the company in Lillehammer or in Horten, it was from the first company, saying (drumroll please!): Have received your paperwork. Have opening for bus driver. When can you start? Please contact me! Well, I did a lot of air punching I can tell you! I just need it to sink in a bit and I will then contact them about when and where and what and how and all the other question marks involved in a new job and new surroundings. 

Wow!

Progress

He is used to waiting I guess

I knew it would take time to hear from Norway again regarding the interview I had. But once you've had an interview, you want the result immediately. You don't want to wait. I had spoken to my boss last week and he said he hadn't heard from Norway yet and I hadn't heard anything either. My friend C told me I would, be patient, don't worry. BUT THEY STILL DIDN'T GET IN TOUCH!! (This is me being very very impatient)

Ah well, they did today. As you may remember I had an interview and a test-drive in Bergen. However, the Bergen branch had all the staff they needed and I would end up on a waiting list. There were also branches in Trondheim and Haugesund and after a quick call to the latter, it turned out they did need people. (Yes, yes, I am getting on with it, don't worry)

So, what did they say? Here's the translation:

Hey Mara,

Thanks for the nice meeting in Bergen on Friday 24 august and subsequent test drive with L. I have just sent your papers on to Haugesund c/o A and she will contact you sometime during the next few days. I hope you can agree on further progress.

Good luck further.

Sincerely,

E

Progress!

Nerves

View from Ulriken, which stands 643m above sea level.
Notice the lack of a fence behind me!

The last time I had an interview is over 13 years ago. To be a bit more precise: the second week of January 1999! I had just gotten my driver's license and was looking for a job then. I made my way towards a place I didn't know and it was only by sheer luck that I managed to bounce in right on time! In my memory I was out within ten minutes again, but in reality it will probably have been a bit more. Whatever it was though: I got the job. 

View from Floi, taken yesterday

So, when I got the interview for this morning I was getting more and more nervous. I didn't sleep as well and while I was waiting for my interviewer to come down (I was early), I was thinking of what I should answer and how over and over and over. I needn't have worried. She was really nice and friendly and put me at my ease immediately. She asked why I wanted to move to Norway and I completely forgot to tell her that part of it was the winters. How silly, since it is quite a big part of it. After a while she told me that my level of Norwegian was enough to actually be hired. 'If they were hiring that is'. Which they weren't. 

The cable car towers going up Ulriken 643

Now, before you all jump up and shout at the screen that she could have told me that before: she had. I knew I would be wait-listed if I were to be hired. However, I had also done a bit of homework myself and knew there were other branches of the same company and when she explained about those I told her I wouldn't mind that much if I wouldn't move to Bergen but to Haugesund (or Trondheim). She then proceeded to call to Haugesund and they did need people there!!

Self portrait on Ulriken 643

Anyway, the interview went on, she asked me about my hobbies, my life, whether I had a car, whether I had had any accidents ever(!) or damages and she explained about what the work would entail. It sounded as if I was listening to a Dutch person explaining the work at a public transport company. During the interview she also arranged a test-drive for me, which took place almost immediately afterwards. I didn't drive for long, but I guess the instructor saw enough in a short time and he let me go again in the center of town!

I now have to wait for news either from the Bergen office or the Haugesund office. But from what I felt: it's looking good. Just hoping they felt the same...

The plan

I had another email this week from Norway:

Hei

Vi takker for din søknad på jobb som bussjåfør i Tide Buss.

Vi har for øyeblikket ingen ledige stillinger som bussjåfør. Dersom du er interessert i eventuelt å være på en venteliste for ledig jobber i Tide, vil vi ta kontakt med deg i august for å avtale intervju og testkjøring.

Ønsker deg en fin sommer og ser frem til å treffe deg når sommeren er over.

Which basically means: "thank you for your application for Tide Buss. At the moment we don't have any openings for busdrivers, but if you are interested to be placed on the waiting list for any upcoming openings at Tide, we will get in touch with you in August for an interview and a test drive. We hope you have a nice sommer and we look forward to meeting you when the summer is over."

Now, this was from the same person I had spoken to on the phone, so this was quite a nice email to receive. Even if she had told me this in person as well.

So, about this plan: here goes! I will be off from July 29th until August 11th and hope to get some Norwegian lessons in the Netherlands. I will then be going to England for 8 days (work), after which I will have another week off. During that final week I hope to make my way to Norway and have said interview and test drive.

Tomorrow I will be sending some emails to find a nice (extremely) intensive private Norwegian course. I will also be booking my flight to Norway. Exciting stuff...

Not quite there yet

I bet they are fluent!

There are seven stages of learning a new language. The first one is 0. You don't know the new language at all or only a few single unconnected words. Then comes A1, where you can make simple sentences and ask simple questions. If you get answered in the new language you haven't really got a clue as to what they are saying. Level A2 means you are able to follow simple conversations.

B1 means you are able to get into a bit more complex conversations and understand people on the phone or on the radio. B2 means you get even more and are quite able to join in a conversation, only occasionally having to look for words. C1 means you are fluent and C2 means you can converse on a scientific level. I would say I am C1 Dutch speaker. Start with scientific lingo and I am lost. I guess I would also be a C1 English and German speaker. French would be between B1 and B2 and my Italian would be about A1-A2. Of course all those languages don't mean a thing: I am learning Norwegian after all.

Today I phoned to Norway and in my best Norwegian I asked whether I could speak to a certain person. And that was as far as I got. It went downhill from there on in. I had been hoping to impress them with my knowledge, but my mouth decided differently, only uttering incomprehensible nonsense. In the end we turned to English.

I had phoned the bus company because I wanted them to know I was learning Norwegian and was actually quite alright in it, which in turn would hopefully make them offer me a job. Long shot I know, but what can I say. I am convinced of my own abilities. But the conversation did give me some result. The company didn't have any openings at the moment, but were expecting some openings in the autumn, whether they could contact me then? And the lady on the other end of the phone told me I needed to be at level B1 at least! And from my nonsense it was quite clear I was a bit off yet!

It was a bit of a disappointment of course, but on the other hand, I now know what to work towards...

Bekrefter

We confirm that your application for a job as "Bus Driver - full-time and part-time" is received. We will make further contact with you should you be considered for a position with us.

Well, they had better consider me!

Dessverre

Bekrefter herved å ha mottatt din interessesøknad.

Vi har for tiden ingen ledige jobber å kunne tilby. Men jeg lar din søknad ligge her om det skulle være behov ved en senere anledning.

In other words: they have received my application, but unfortunately they don't have any openings right now. They will however keep my cv on file for the foreseeable future.

Interviewing

I saw my agent Henk yesterday and together we looked through a databank of jobs available in Edmonton and immediate surroundings. We selected about a dozen jobs and then I started phoning the hotels to ask for information. In one case the number wasn't correct, a few other hotels didn't answer at all and then there was the voicemail. I think half of my phonecalls ended up in voicemail land never to be answered. Well, apart from one, because a lady did call back to tell me the position had already been filled.

The ice rink in the West Edmonton Mall, later that evening there was hockey practice as well

After all that, I left the Dutch Consulate (where Henk works) and drove to a hotel I hadn't phoned, but Henk knew the manager etc etc. When I got to the hotel, I asked to speak to the manager and lo and behold, I got to speak to him! He looked at my resumé, we talked for a few minutes and he said he was going to pass my resumé and information on to the manager front desk and if there was a position she would call me back today!

A pirate ship

I then went to a nearby hotel that had advertised and had to fill out a application form. However, I didn't speak to anybody. Then, I went to a hotel where again Henk knew the manager. He had moved to a different location though, but I was asked to fill out another application form. This form contained questions about my best and worst job and what job would I like to do if I were to win $5 million! That last question was easy of course: I wouldn't want to do anything, I would want to travel! When I returned the application form to the front desk however, the lady in charge of hiring front desk staff was there and she asked me several more questions. Whether I would consider working in Fort McMurray (which even according to the girls behind the desk was nearly the worst place to live in all of Alberta) or any of the other places they had hotels in. Well, provided an LMO would be gotten, I was game.

The large pool at the WEM

After all that I went to get a bite to eat at the WEM (West Edmonton Mall) which is supposedly the biggest shopping center in the whole world. It also contained an ice rink, a pirate's ship and a large swimming pool. I really had to keep track of where my car was parked and how to get there though, because it would be easy to loose your way: hardly any signs to indicate where you were or where you had to go! They just want you to shop I guess...

Today will be more of the dropping off resumés and hopefully talking to people.

You are fired! And then what?

The Manor House Hotel, seen from the lawn

Since I told you all about my job as a receptionist at the Manor House Hotel in Castle Combe (England), I bet you would like to know what happened to me after I got fired.

First of all I need to set the scene of course: the manager of the hotel had called me into his office at the back of the hotel. Nothing glamourous at all, just a tiny little office guarded by his secretary. I was asked to sit down and then he told me about the complaints and how they could not keep me on at reception. I was of course shocked and also quite outraged: why had nobody said anything sooner so I could mend my ways? I never did receive a satisfactory answer to that, probably because he wasn't my biggest fan in the first place, but he did continue to say that: 'even though I don't feel that you would be suitable for reception over here, we would like to keep you working for this company. So, where would you like to work?'

Excuse me? Was he offering me a job in the hotel he just sacked me from? Well yes, he did! In retrospect I think it might have something to do with the fact that me working the front desk and him being out in the front so often and us meeting quite often wasn't something he wanted. However if I were anywhere else in the hotel he wouldn't be running into me every day (and before you ask, there was never anything more going on than mutual antipathy). I think he gave me a few days to think about it.

The restaurant

Needless to say I did some severe thinking. First of all: did I want to stay at the hotel? And that was a yes. And second: where did I want to work? I went over all the different departments in the hotel in my head. Housekeeping: nope, getting up early every morning and having to turn down the beds every night didn't appeal to me at all. Gardening? No need really, there were already three gardeners and they could handle their work with ease (although speaking of the gardeners, every Christmas I would be invited by the head gardener Tom to have dinner with him and the other two gardeners). Kitchen then and become a chef? Godfried of Bouillon no! Having to deal with the head chef from reception was bad enough, having to deal with him in the kitchen would be hell! Besides, I didn't want to be stuck on peeling potatoes and carrots every single day!

In the end I decided on the restaurant. Become a waitress. I would work from 10am to about 2pm and then again from 6pm until the last guest had left. I would set the tables, fold napkins, polish silver and glasses and serve food. I got into quite a few fights with the head chef, he made me blush even more often (and before you ask: no, there was never anything going on between us, apart from reluctant sympathy) and basically enjoyed my life as a waitress.

There were weddings, Japanese coach parties and the occasional VIP, the worst being Mr Orzabal from Tears for Fears. Not that he wasn't nice or friendly, his problem was he would arrive on a Sunday night at about a quarter to nine! And the kitchen would usually close at nine. Our one night where we might actually get off early and he had to spoil it!!

The uniform

The best thing about the job were the hours. You could have a lie-in in the morning and you were off during the afternoon, unless you were serving afternoon tea which was brilliant: nobody looking over your shoulder. The worst part was definitely the uniform. A black short sleeved dress and a white pinnafore with the bands crossed at the back. It looked nice and olde worlde, but the chamber maids wore the same uniform! It was extremely hot during the summer months, where tea would be served outside and so so cold during the winter when you had to take roomservice to the cottages on occasion (which had numbers by the way).

The restaurant team, the fourth person from the left is the restaurant manager

After a while I got a promotion which meant no more afternoon tea service for me and I was allowed to boss my colleagues about. Which was brilliant. But after a year and a half, the monotony got to me and I wanted to get out. I should have asked my boss to get me relocated to a different restaurant, but in the end I quit and went home to my parents.

By the way: when I went to ask the hotel manager for an advance on my wages, he refused. Until I told him I was leaving and he couldn't get the money out of the safe fast enough!

I think it would be fun to be a hotel receptionist

The Manor House Hotel in Castle Combe

That was the comment Cry gave on my last post. So, is she right... or is she wrong....

When I worked for Club Med years and years ago (well, in 1991-1992), I realised fairly soon that working all week and spending all your time with the guests was on the one hand a great thing, on the other hand, it made me loose sight of the world in general. When I lived in Tignes (French Alps), I didn't know there had been an earthquake in the Netherlands until several days later. And the only reason I knew anything about the Olympics taking place that winter, was because we were smack bang in the middle of it! So, I realised that as fun as the job was, it was time to find a different job. Without children because the next time I would look after children would be when 'I had my own' (yeah right).

Anyway, thanks to a very lovely Scottish chef, I wrote an application letter to six different hotels in England. For some reason one of them decided the letter was good enough and after a further fax and a short phone call, I had a job at the Manor House Hotel in Castle Combe (about an hour and a half west of London). Brilliant!

My very first room, not so glamourous

At the beginning of June, my brother accompanied me by train to the Belgian port from where I would sail to England with my two ginormous suitcases. After arriving in England I took another train, then another (do you know that trains in England drive on the left as well?) and fortunately was helped at Chippenham trainstation by someone who realised it would take me the better part of an hour to get those two suitcases up and down the stairs again! The last bit of my journey was in an Easy Taxi (nothing to do with EasyJet) and finally after a whole day of travelling, I had arrived at my new job! Since I was to live in, the porter made short work with my two cases and carried them up to my room which was decidedly ehm... unglamorous. Especially compared to the hotel itself.

The next day my training as a receptionist started. Since I had been working with children for about 2 years by then, I hadn't worked with computers since leaving school (where I hadn't been very good at it either), so that took some getting used to. All the different words for change (alter, amend and I probably forgot a few now as well), made my head spin, but after a few weeks, I was deemed to be good enough to do a quiet shift on my own.

The hotel I worked in was a four star hotel and there weren't that many rooms (about 25 at the time), however, some clever clogs had decided room numbers was for sissies and had given names to all the rooms in the main house, no numbers, just names. Lordsmere and Horse Tyning for example. The rooms were also all different, not one was the same as the next, which of course made it even more special. When I took reservations, I had to remember what room was which size and what price etc etc, but I managed.

Bored anyone?

There were still some things that baffled me. The question about the Christmas Crackers for example. Asked by a Welsh person on the phone, I didn't have a clue what they were going on about. Wellies was another one. Also, the person at reception had to type and print the menus and the times where I phoned the chef to ask whether he was having me on, are too many to count on one hand. Spotted Dick, Bubble & Squeak: did he really believe that I would fall for those? (By the way, they are both proper dishes, the first being a custardy dessert and the second being heated up cabbage and other veggies, which bubble and squeak, hence the name.)

So, what made me leave and work in the restaurant then? Was it the utter boredom on days where you started at seven in the morning and the first phonecall arrived at seven minutes past twelve in the afternoon? Was it the inactivity of mainly sitting down all day and not being allowed to read or knit or do a crossword? No, I got fired! Yes, you read it right: I got fired! For the best reason ever: my English was too good!! I admit, when I heard that I couldn't believe my ears: English too good??

It turned out, there had been several complaints about me over a couple of weeks and instead of the manager showing them to me, so I might be able to change my ways, he just brought them all on me in one fell swoop and told me enough was enough. The thing is though, my English is very good. It's English with an English accent and only if you talk to me for any length of time or with specific words, do you realise I am not in fact English. But of course by then the damage had been done, since even if I spoke the Queen's English (well, not quite), I didn't have the English sensibilities to complaints. So, if someone phoned down to complain about their tea being served cold, I would tell them I would note it down and inform the waiting staff. WRONG!!! I should have sucked up to them big time, got the restaurant manager involved, do everything in my power to get the guests happy again. Which is very unDutch and since I am Dutch, it was not something I was used to. Enter complaints against me and me being fired.

Don't get me wrong, I did love my job as a receptionist (apart from the occasional boredom): the dealing with customers, both on the phone and in person. Making reservations for rooms and restaurant. Giving people information about the surrounding area. Handling money. And of course the interaction with colleagues from other departments (most notably the maids and to a lesser degree the restaurant staff).

My clogs

I think it would be fun to be a hotel receptionist again. Hopefully in a hotel where they believe in room numbers and where it's busy enough. A hotel where I would be able to use my language skills and where my English would be perfect as is. Perhaps I will wear my clogs though, just so people know I will not be getting the Queen down to sort out any problems...

You're fired!

After finishing high school and a short college course (which I failed), I went to work at the ripe old age of 18. It was my first job and immediately I was thrown into the deep end: Yougoslavia! All the way by myself. I lasted the season in the Mini-Club and came back home. Stayed for three months and then it was off to Brussels, Belgium for three months as an au-pair. From there it was on to Sicily, Italy and Tignes France, both for six months. And then I had had enough with the seasonal work, I wanted to do something a bit more permanent.

In France I had had a colleague who was from Scotland originally. Andy worked in the kitchen and had worked in hotels in England before coming to Club Med. He helped me compose an application letter (which I completely changed) and I sent it off to six hotels in England. One of them hired me!

I was hired by the Manor House Hotel in Castle Combe as a receptionist. It was hard going, especially at first, to alter, to amend, to change all meant the same thing. Other words I didn't know and only found out about when I was there: Christmas Crackers (I thought they were some sort of edible crackers) and Wellies. I learned though and did enjoy my time behind that little desk.

We weren't allowed to read behind that desk. Or knit, embroider, do crosswords or anything else. We had to be on the alert at all times. And that could be so boring! When your shift starts at seven and the first phonecall you get is sometime after midday...

My English improved and in time I even got an English accent. Which in turn caused my downfall. Because my accent might be English, the language spoken might be English, I was still Dutch. After nine months two complaints were lodged against me within the space of three weeks. Both for more or less the same reason: rudeness. I never thought I was rude, but then again, I wouldn't have been considered rude if I had been working in the Netherlands. So what did I do that was so bad?

Someone came up to the desk and had a complaint about something or other. Dutch way: "Thank you, I will note it down and get it dealt with as soon as possible." English way (especially four star hotel English way): "I am so sorry, sorry, sorry, I will get the supervisor, manager, Queen herself!"

Now, if those people had heard a Dutch accent, they mightn't have bothered complaining: I was Dutch and therefore didn't know any better. But because they couldn't hear that, they thought I was just plain rude. So, I got two complaints and a call to come to the manager's office.

I got fired because (here it comes): 'My English was too good!' Have you ever heard such a thing? It must be one of the best reasons to get fired for in the world... All was not lost though: I was allowed to stay in the hotel and pick the department I wanted to work in! I picked the restaurant and worked there for another year and a half before finally returning home to the Netherlands!

So, what was the best or worst reason you ever received for getting fired?