As I write this I’m currently the only person left in the office having just spent the last four hours manically looking for a last minute ski chalet in Chamonix for four days over Christmas. No sadly this isn’t for me but my boss and it has to have four bedrooms, sauna and a chill out space where the grownups can do their yoga practice. Pray for me!
Maybe I should start at the beginning. I should be at home with my parents right now, indulging in mince pies and classic Christmas telly. Unfortunately last night just as I was packing up the last of my presents, I heard the most dreaded sound in the world – my boss calling out of hours (I’ve set my ringtone to play the Darth Vader entrance music). It turned out that the Condé Nast Traveller recommended loft apartment I’d already booked for him and Mrs Vader six months ago now wouldn’t do. His sister’s going through her second divorce at the moment and wants to come with the twins and the nanny.
Anyways after a four hour search I think I might have found a place with a last minute cancellation that will take them. The manager is just confirming whether or not it’s all right to bring Portia and Priscilla the Shih Poos (that’s Shih Tzu – Poodle mix to you and me) then we should be good to go. Here’s hoping I’ll make the last train tonight and will have nothing else to worry about for the next few days except recording the Strictly Christmas Special!