At least we smile as we f leece our tourists

IT’S almost a fortnight since I returned from my holidays and I’m glad to report the miserable memories are fading. It wasn’t a complete washout to be fair – the Danube cuts a majestic swathe through cities like Vienna and Budapest but the tour of Transylvania topped off by two nights in Bucharest was mentally exhausting, a week from hell.

Everywhere we went be it a small gallery or a local pharmacy we were glowered at, made to feel about as welcome as the medieval rodent carriers of the Black Death.

We were ripped off by taxi drivers refusing to turn their meters on so that they could charge central London fares.

We were served food we didn’t order with no explanation or apology. Plates and glasses were thumped down in front of us in restaurants while serving staff, fuming with haughty rage, snapped menus from our hands.

The abominable service would have been comical if we were being paid to play the part of patrons in a remake of Fawlty Towers.

But we were tourists in a country whose abundance of unspoilt countryside, medieval citadels and fabulous art collections were dwarfed by the rudeness and scornful arrogance we met almost everywhere.

It made me think that hospitality more than scenery or amenities or five-star hotels are the bedrock of the tourism industry, the catalyst for a country’s image and reputation. If we dared query a bill, eyes were thrown up in the air and we were treated like we were simpletons, rather than customers who justifiably suspected we were being overcharged again.

IF we asked for a late drink in our hotel, arms were dismissively waved in our direction, pushing us along as if we were disturbing the peace. On the rare occasions we didn’t tip handsomely for rotten service we were verbally insulted as ‘cheap’. Even in the hotel, which was swanky by Bucharest standards, the cost of the taxi to the airport depended on who you asked. The female night receptionist quoted €25 or 110 Romanian leu. Her dayAside time colleague said the fare was a standard 30 leu, about €7.50. So many people on the make.

It occurred to me that the land of Count Dracula has engendered an army of financial vampires who just want to shake you down for the maximum, at minimum effort to themselves.

Now I’m not stupid enough to claim that dishonesty or unfriendliness are national characteristics of Romania. I have worked with a few Romanians over the years and they were highly intelligent, multilingual and good humoured people.

What I will say though is that if the country has any concept of hospitality or politeness then we didn’t find it.

from our cash, which was definitely prized, we felt as if we were a nuisance, just great human stains on the forested plains of Romania.

Now perhaps as Irish people we have too high expectations of a friendly reception wherever we go.

One of our failings as a nation is that we think that the rest of the world shares our regard for a flair for storytelling and easygoing charm.

THE praise for our football fans in France gave us a warm glow. It bolstered our good opinion of ourselves as well as the idea that our natural warmth and love of the craic is a cornerstone of our culture. But Ireland of the Welcomes can also be a greedy and cynical place. We monetise our charm in the ripoff prices we charge in tourist traps like Temple Bar or West Cork.

We offer service with a smile while also shaking people down for every last cent.

But for all that, for all the stings of hefty hotel rates and alcohol and food bills we foist on tourists, while I scanned the magnificent peaks of the Carpathian Mountains in Romania I would have traded all their sublime desolation for the sight of just one friendly face.