Frugal Folly
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My wife, Linda, is in charge of reservations for accommodations and
restaurants when we visit Paris. That is because of her fluency
in the French language and her extensive knowledge of France – all a
result of one semester of junior college French. For the last
four or five trips she has booked us in the Hotel Brighton, even though
she has varied the
restaurant selections.
So, it was with
great interest I read the Arthur Frommer’s Budget Travel Newsletter
article on alternative accommodations. I have no quarrel with the
Brighton- location, charm, view, and friendly personnel make it a great
place to stay – but the word “budget” piqued my curiosity.
Linda
was working on creating an acrostic- one of her hobbies; the other is
conjugating French verbs- when I brought her customary afternoon cup of
hot, herbal tea. Usually I go on about my house cleaning, but
this day I wanted to tell her about my discovery.
I plunged
right into it, “Honey, this article I was reading- ‘Alternative
Accommodations’- said we could easily save 25 to 50 percent on a room
in one and two star hotels versus a three star like the Brighton.
Let’s see. Twenty five percent of 147 Euros would be–”
“One
or two star hotel!” she interrupted. “That means sharing a common
bathroom down the hall with total strangers from four or five
rooms! Well, you can just forget that nutty idea. Sharing
the bath with one other human being is all my nerves can stand.”
“And,
also,” she continued, “usually that type of hotel is miles from the
salons and shops I frequent- not to mention the fine restaurants.
The cost for a taxi for that distance would just about kill you; and I
am not about to ride the RER or Metro in my designer gowns. No, forget
it!”
“The article also mentions the high hotel charge for breakfast–”
“Petit dejeuner,” Linda interjected.
“Petit
dejeuner, OK. Anyway, rather than getting that tray in the room like
you always do, the article says we can save by going out to a nearby
cafe for breakf– ah, petit dejeuner.”
“Sort pour le petit
dejeuner? Mon Dieu!” I think she said. “You know I don’t
function well until I have my coffee and toilet in the morning.
Are you really suggesting running the risk of my not starting a day at
my best?”
would mean no miniature Bonne Maman jellies. And that would mean
you couldn’t save the extras to pass off on our friends as
souvenirs. And that would mean you’d have to spend a few Euros
buying souvenirs. How about your savings now?”
“Well,
how about a rental apartment?” I went on. “The article
described the advantages of having your own little home away from home
right there in the city of lights. You know instead of just a
bedroom, we could have a living room and a–”
“Kitchen?
If you think I would put up with your cooking just so you could save a
Euro or two you have really gone off half-cocked. It is Paris!
Paris, where all those wonderful chefs are always preparing those
gourmet delights. Paris, where dining has been raised to an art
form. You in the kitchen in Paris? Etes-vous fou?”
I
figured it might be wise to not even mention hostels. After the
way my bride had reacted the other suggestions, the word hostel just
might evoke more severe emotion. And to be honest, the way the article
described that option; it didn’t really appeal a whole lot to me.
For example: “You share your room with strangers. You’re all
crammed into a
sex-segregated dorm room onto cots or bunk beds”;
and, “Big problem is noise- a cacophony of involuntary bodily
noises.” Whoa, Nellie– now that would bring on one of Linda’s
masterpiece hissy fits!
So, instead I said, “Well, Hon, I just
thought some variety, such as the article mentioned, might be kinda
adventurous and fun.”
“Adventurous? Fun? Listen,
Buster. The only reason you are bringing up such stuff is because
you are cheap- cheap- cheap.”
“Now my little song bird,” I said, “I could take umbrage with that. I might be frugal, but–”
“You can umbrage all you want to. But, ‘frugal’ is just a nice way to say cheap, and right now I am not in a nice mood.”
“And
another thing,” she went on, “If you think there is the slightest
chance for kissy-kissy, hanky-panky, yum-yum in one of those
‘alternative accommodations’ you have lost your cotton picking senses-
what little you had left!”
“Well, my little sweet precious,
since you put it that way, and you seem pretty sure about it, I think
the ole Brighton sounds real good to me. And, heck, hang the
expense, next time we’re there lets get something from the room
mini-bar.”