The case of the mistaken St-pierre
Janine and her sisters are planning a staycation for early September. They considered a number of options; the Irish loop and Bonavista peninsula being head runners.
Then they looked at the Burin peninsula and had the brainwave that a side trip to St-pierre would be an interesting addition. Then the collective brains took a vacation of their own.
Only one of the sisters had ever toured the island and that was more than 50 years ago.
On the basis of this wealth of experience she was designated to do the research on where to stay. Her earlier trip was spent in a little pension which no longer exists and besides, the sisters were now used to a bit more comfort when travelling.
They had decided on two rooms, one with two beds, preferably next to each other. Fortunately, the internet now makes it easy to see what’s available complete with photos, prices and nearby amenities so she happily got down to work.
After looking at more great options than she would have thought available, she settled on one called Hotel Lo Fleye, described as “both a traditional and innovative facility, with an intimate and warm atmosphere. All the rooms are spacious, modern and offer a wonderful view.”
She wondered briefly why “lo” instead of “le” or “la.”
She showed the pictures to another sister who agreed that it did indeed look wonderful. Together they browsed a couple of more listings just to be sure. One had a distinctly alpine look and said it was a short ski to the chair lift.
“I had no idea they skied in St-pierre,” remarked the designated planner. “Neither did I,” said the other in amazement.
They mused that they had never heard of anyone going there to ski. Who knew!
There was one called a wine hotel with views of the vineyards.
That certainly didn’t raise any red flags; wine making and St-pierre seemed quite compatible.
The decision was finalized on Hotel Lo Fleye.
They passed it onto the third sister to find availability and book as one of them was quite busy and the other one isn’t allowed to make reservations since the time she booked two weeks in Dorset and forgot to cancel to the tune of 2,500 pounds.
Soon the reservation maker was on the line with some questions.
Did they want a mountain view, a castle view or a garden view?
The sister who had been there was no help; she couldn’t even remember there being a castle in St-pierre. The other sister was busy.
Sept. 3 being one of the sisters’ birthdays, they decided to celebrate in style and booked Sept. 2-4.
Two of the sisters went to bed that night full of excitement for the coming adventure.
The one who was too busy during the day to really give it much thought settled down to have a good look at Hotel Lo Fleye.
First one sister, then another, was rudely awakened from dreams of wineries and castles with a phone call from the third, laughing hysterically as she informed them they had booked themselves into Saint Pierre, Italy!
“It’s not my fault,” said the one who is banned from booking.
“How was I supposed to know?” said the one who lives in Toronto.
“I just did what you told me to.”
Neither mentioned the somewhat obvious-inhindsight clue that the Italian language appeared on some of the websites.
However, as she was the birthday girl, the original booker decided to give it another go — in the right St.pierre, our St. Pierre.
At the first place she tried, the woman answering the phone didn’t speak English. The next place she tried was closed until further notice.
Then her computer crashed. Then she gave up.
The island of St-pierre’s loss is the island of Newfoundland’s gain. I think.