Guests that we will never forget (in an amusing way!)

From the moment they step through the door your bookings become guests, and their experiences determine whether they ever come back.
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AngloDutch
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Guests that we will never forget (in an amusing way!)

Post by AngloDutch »

One of the funniest stories that we have to tell after running a holiday home over these last 10 years is of a family from Saudi Arabia that came to stay. The father was a camel farmer and he had just decided to bring his very large family all the way to the far north of the Netherlands.
It seemed that they had found us via HA and had booked last minute.

Having worked in Dubai in the 1990s I knew how conservative some Saudi people could be, so even though it was one of the most hottest days of the year, I made sure to change from wearing shorts into a pair of trousers when they arrived.

I told my OH to make herself scarce as the men may not wish to shake her hand or even acknowledge her. She grudgingly agreed.

When the family arrived (in a minibus with blacked out windows), it was quite comical. The father and his two teenage sons stepped out wearing Hawaiian-style beach shorts - I felt a little overdressed to say the least! The ladies remained inside the bus, but I knew that the women would wish to have as little contact with me as possible, so just went with the men into the farmhouse.

The first thing that I had forgotten to do (silly me, I should have remembered this) was to take down the nude sketches we had in the sitting room and in one of the bedrooms. I must say that hardly anyone notices them as they are quite small and done in that 19th-century way that is not likely to cause offense. But I got it wrong and the father was quite upset, so with apologies, I took the frames down and placed them back to front at the bottom of the walls.

Actually, it went from bad to worse and on leaving the men in the house, I decided to return to our home via their garden. I rounded a corner and met the ladies, who had obviously thought that it was now safe to venture outside the minibus and who were so shocked to see me that they all turned their heads away in unison. They carried on walking past me, rounded the corner and collided in 'concertina fashion' into the large dustbin positioned against the wall. When I looked around the corner, several of the ladies were on the ground amongst the upturned dustbin.
Oh dear, this is not working out well I thought and pretended that I hadn't noticed their predicament as I was the last person that they would want to help them!

The next morning the father approached me and said that his eldest son liked to go hunting and would it be possible to arrange this for them.

The conversation went like this:

Me: We only have cows, pigs, sheep, goats and horses here.

Father: But we can shoot the small animal, rabbit, pigeon or maybe some mouse.

Me: Yes, but we have only national parks around here, and you can't shoot animals there. Maybe you could visit Canada and the USA next time, around their hunting seasons.

Father: OK, forget the animal. We just shoot on pistol range, or maybe you have big guns as well?

Me: No, unfortunately we can't help you there. Maybe you can visit Thailand, because I know you can use firing ranges as a tourist there. Only farmers tend to have guns here...

Later on, as I was corrected by the father for wishing him 'Good Morning' in Arabic, when it was 4 o'clock in the afternoon, his youngest son asked inquisitively:

Son: Why horse have so small feet? (referring to the little Austrian mare in the field next door)

Me:(completely stumped) Is it to do with your horses having to walk on sand, so maybe that's why their feet are wider?

I thought that he just had the one question, but it then continued:

Father: How much for horse?

Me: How much do they cost here? Oh, depends on a lot of factors really...

Father: No, my son like horse. I want to give him present. I buy for him. How much this horse?

Me: It doesn't belong to us. It's the farmer's and I don't think he wants to sell her....

Father: You tell him to name price.

Me: How would you take a horse back with you to Riyadh?

Father: No problem - Saudia cargo - I have friend there.

Me: I will ask the farmer for you, but as I said, I don't thing so..

I did ask our neighbour, the farmer, but he didn't give me an answer and just smiled, because he thought I was joking.

The next morning they were leaving and, as I went to shake the father's hand in the hall and thank him for coming, his daughters, completely covered, flew past between us like a whirlwind.
I asked him if he had enjoyed his stay. He smiled, 'very interesting here in Holland, but, tell me, about the horse....'
Last edited by AngloDutch on Thu Jun 25, 2015 6:15 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Marks
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Post by Marks »

:lol: :lol: :lol:
Some guests just need a sympathetic pat. On the head. With a hammer.
tavi
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Post by tavi »

:lol: 8)
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edinburgh
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Post by edinburgh »

Are you sure there wasn't a hidden camera? :P
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Moliere
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Post by Moliere »

edinburgh wrote:Are you sure there wasn't a hidden camera? :P
Yes - hidden in the horse's mouth, the last place you would look!

Mols
Jumping is just dressage with speed-bumps.
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Robin S
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Post by Robin S »

:)
aasta
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Post by aasta »

:D :D :D
aasta
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