The Inquest

 

The Committee is not a congratulatory organisation.  It gives credit where it is justified but has various subtle methods of hinting when improvements in projects are possible and should be introduced.  The ‘inquest’ system was the vehicle.  After everything the Committee sponsored or authorised, the organiser responsible was expected to call together his or her personnel, compile an agenda, inform the minute taker and discuss every aspect of the arrangements from beginning to end.  At the end of ninety minutes session, the minute taker had copious notes, the assembled committee had unburdened itself of its accumulated grievances, criticisms and suggestions.  Always the sessions ends with a minute of thanking the person responsible for the activity; no one deliberately mismanages a project which he or she has agreed to undertake.  But a conscientious organiser leaves such a meeting with confidence depleted, a modest feeling of having been appreciated but with a welter of possibilities for improvement, some which seem inadequate or impracticable and an underlying consciousness of yet more concentrated thought and strategy.

 

But he ‘inquest’ is undoubtedly a valuable vehicle for improvement.  It must be conducted in an atmosphere of tolerance; it must not edge too far towards unbearable criticism towards anyone who is likely to be useful in a future project.  But no raw nerve must remain un-soothed, no minor complaint must be received with less than due regard and consideration.  Any aspect of the project which appears to have been conducted with singular success must be noted to ensure that it can be repeated with similar success on future occasions, - although this cannot always be guaranteed.

 

Such is the tenor or our holiday ‘inquest’ meetings.  We mull over the characteristics of our guests, of our own staff, of the staff at the holiday venue.  We travel in retrospect over the journey, the handling of these unable to look after themselves; of the vast mountain of baggage, the timing between various sections of the journey; the behaviour, either deliberate or inadvertent of some of the travellers; the arrival and settling into the accommodation.  We consider the discontent about the chalets, are these justified or merely a hankering after what someone else has.  The ‘pairing’ of companions who, subsequently prove ill matched.  The unsuitability of food; illnesses, incompatibility; even home sickness.  The outings arranged during the week; the cost as compared with value and enjoyment; the service of the employees at the venue and, possibly more important, the quality of the entertainment.

 

All this is stored in a complete record of the holiday.  Much has to be tucked into the recesses of the memory of the organiser.  Much cannot be written down or noted.  Aspects of the project which are too nebulous or too frank and some information which sounds and appears so unlikely as to be discredited.

 

Mrs Smith and Mrs Robinson are sisters and accompany us on our annual jaunt regularly.  Mrs Smith approaches someone in charge in the street; if the opportunity does not present itself thus conveniently, she calls one day about a month prior to departure.

 

Her introduction to what she has to say is hesitant.  “How are you?”  How are the children?”  “Will Sam be with us this year?”  At last, in spite of an over full of cakes in the kitchen or a hot iron waiting for an assault on half a dozen shirts, she has to be invited in.  She lowers herself to the very edge of the nearest armchair and nervously, gathers her courage and her voice to tackle her query.  “Is Mrs Robinson going this year?” she enquires anxiously.  This is an annual enquiry.  “Yes,” responds the organiser.  To save further delay and yet more anxiety, she finishes the interview along the usual channel.  “Yes, Mrs Robinson is going.  I know she is you r sister and I will put her as far away from you as possible”  A grateful smile of intense relief spreads itself across Mrs Smith’s worried face.  “Thank you” she responds gratefully.  “I guessed you would remember but I just could not face going with you if I had to meet her every day”.

 

How does one put such idiosyncrasies on paper?  Friends who accompany each other everywhere during the year but have to be given a logical reason for separating them on holiday because ----.  Millie just cannot tolerate having a window open because of moths or bats or spiders or some other fearsome creature.  Janet, her bosom companion just cannot sleep at all without an open window.  Mr A And Mrs B who go out together at home everyday but who might be expected to have to share with someone strange on holiday.  They could be put into chalets next door to one another but if each has to make friends with another stranger, the holiday has a flaw.  After all Mr A spends all his waking hours with Mrs B why not put them together to spend their sleeping hours together.  So we allocate them their own small chalet with two beds side by side and they share their usual contented companionship.  But does one note for future reference, Mr A and Mrs B share a chalet?  Of course not.  One makes a mental note and ensures that the same arrangement operates on the next occasion.

 

But fresh proposals which received the endorsement of the holiday have to be put into operation.  To be factual, however, improbable these ideas seem to the success of future holidays, they frequently seem to work.  Many of them result in a great deal of extra preliminary work and, but for a history of the unsuitability of food; illness; incompatibility; even home-sickness.  The outings arranged during the week; the cost as compared with value and enjoyment; the service of the employees at the venue and, possibly more important, the quality of the entertainment.

 

Just because the unlucky organiser is faced with yet one more four hour long evening in implementing yet another ‘good’ idea is no reason for rejecting it out of hand.  Strangely, these suggestions often seem to work to such good purpose that the organiser could, without much trouble, render the position superfluous by the time of departure.  It is a factual proverb that two heads are better than one and twenty much better still.  Furthermore, the more organising and arranging which can be done at home on the dining table, the less there seems to be required to be done after arrival for the holiday.  It is tedious and wearing to spend hours transferring names from one list to another, to send out fresh information in an effort to get two or three people just next door to one another but it is infinitely less wearing than carrying bulging cases, bedding and unpacked clothes from one bedroom to another in an effort to satisfy one fussy old dear who has decided that she wants to be somewhere else and intends to continue complaining until she gets what she wants.

 

So when the ‘angels’ put their heads together, it is the beginning of another week still ten months hence at which there will be yet less snags, less discomfort and the start of another jubilant week for two or three hundred people.