Stories
Shanghai, CHINA
My worst disaster was in Shanghai. My friend assured me she knew a wonderful restaurant and no need to phone because they did not take bookings. Our taxi drove round and round and both my friend and the driver were unable to find it. Eventually, she located the name and address on satnav. We got out and walked to the number. The place was boarded up. They had gone out of business.
Usually the opposite happens. You arrive on what you think is an off season midweek night, What could go wrong. The place is humming and full. There's a wedding, a conference, or it has just opened and advertised a free drink in the local paper.
Or it is tiny. Only six tables. All full.
I have often arrived at a place where I want to eat and met the guard on the door who demands, "Do you have a booking?"
I recently learned by chance what to do.
SINGAPORE
I went to IO, Italian restaurant in Singapore, on a dark wet night, the Friday before our last weekend, and found the place packed.
The man on the welcome desk said welcomingly, "Do you have a booking?"
"No. But could we see the menu in case we want to book for another day? Ooh, it looks lovely. We'll definitely make a booking."
We retreated out of the way and phoned. "Hi. Can we have a booking for tomorrow? You're fully booked? The next day? No. You can do it when? The day after - no, we're going overseas. We're outside the restaurant now - if you get a cancellation. Please note our phone number. You have a cancellation! Forty five minutes? Fine!"
By the time we'd checked out two other rival restaurants, looked into the wine shop window, and been to the toilet, and got back to reception, it's thirty minutes. Five minutes to get to the front of the queue. Twenty-five minutes.
I said, "We have a booking. We're a bit early."
"Would you like to sit and wait at the bar, and order a drink?"
I said, "While we're waiting, may I look at the cabinet of desserts?"
I photographed the entrance. I'd only been by the large dessert display two or three minutes when the head waiter appeared and whisked us in:
"Your table's vacant, Madam. If you don't mind an unmade table, you can sit and read the menu, while we lay the table and fix it up for you."
Author
Angela Lansbury, travel writer and photographer. Please share your favourite posts.
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