Why Are Guests Like Fish?

Because after three days they start to stink!

I recently had the misfortune of spending a week with the visitors from hell. A former flatmate and her husband decided to visit Nick and me in Lugano, on their honeymoon. First of all, their timing couldn’t have been worse. They arrived when our cash flow was at an all time low and work wise, Nick was at the busiest time of year – the end of June being peak season in the fashion industry. Nick was looking forward to a peaceful weekend and the opportunity to unwind after a hectic few months at the office, before having to spend a week away from home for the buy in the Milan showroom.

On the other hand, I looked at my former flatmate and her new husband’s visit as an opportunity to renew a friendship with someone I hadn’t seen in over five years. We’d shared a house in Armadale during my last year at uni, before I moved back to Switzerland. I looked forward to spending some quality time together, catching up and bonding. In expectation of their visit, I cleaned the house from top to bottom, stocked up the fridge, bought expensive wines and made a list of activities and sites to entertain our guests.

But their visit turned out to be a bitter disappointment that cost Nick his much treasured tranquillity and left a big dent in our housekeeping budget. We wined and dined the newlyweds, took them out and showed them some of our local treasures. But throughout, our guests did not reciprocate our enthusiasm. Mostly they just looked bored, showing no interest in the local attractions, nor any appreciation for our efforts to entertain them.

This wounded our egos as Nick and I have become experts at showing our visitors a good time. Over the years, we’ve had the pleasure of entertaining a great variety of visitors from Australia who drop in at regular intervals throughout the year. I even keep a drawer in my desk filled with brochures, timetables and calendars of local events. So far, our visitors have all left us with great revues about their Swiss sojourns.

It’s only natural that one should wish to offer one’s guests the very best. And usually it’s easy; considering that we live in one of the most beautiful spots on the planet. Therefore it’s unfathomable that someone could remain unimpressed by our dramatic landscapes, the harmony of the towns’ architectures, the many culinary delights and the streets with luxurious boutiques. Switzerland is notoriously a boring holiday destination unless you care for extreme sports, the cultural attractions, spa-ing or shopping. Having said that, I’ve seen even the most hardened city dweller and the most alternative traveller moved by the sheer impact that the Swiss landscape has on the soul. And for a short time, the cool nightclubbing scene is thankfully replaced by the simple enjoyment of the Alpine scenery and getting a peaceful break from the painfully trendy.

For this reason, I couldn’t help becoming upset when I noticed that the honeymooners remained unmoved by the most romantic villages we showed them. Now, I believe that a beautiful landscape has a transcendental quality about it that reaches out and touches a person intimately, indiscriminately of his or her level of education or experience. But I realized that beauty was wasted on our visitors.

I looked at my former flatmate; when we lived together she bragged about having the perfect breasts. Ten years my junior, tall and blond, she used to be slim and athletic. Then she had rhinoplasty and a face-lift and entered the Melbourne S&M scene. She started working as a bouncer in Melbourne nightclubs and talked with self-importance about the many drugs that were endemic to the scene. That’s how she met her husband, also a bouncer. A couple of years down the track though; her former splendour has completely faded.

When I picked them up at the train station they looked unhealthy, overweight and obviously retaining fluids. She was puffy; her belly bulged over her belt, her heavy breasts pointed downward, bunches of wrinkles circled her lips and eyes. Only the nose contrasted unnaturally against the rest of her features, which have started to sag. Her man was covered in an assortment of large tattoos in different colours and styles that decorated both his legs and shoulders. They were both terribly unfit and started wheezing and perspiring as we walked up the hill to our house.

Conversation was difficult. While the groom chain-smoked cigarettes and drank endless amounts of coffee, the bride whined about the preceding weeks of their honeymoon. They spent their time visiting his relatives in Puglia, Italy’s deep south. She hated the fact that she couldn’t understand the language, didn’t like the food nor was she thrilled by the landscape. While we chatted, the groom remained dumb throughout most of our conversations. He is quite expressionless, with a blank face that appears unable to conjure up anything deeper than a vacuous gaze. The only topics that managed to shake him out of his torpor were those of a most grotesque kind. He bragged about how in Puglia they have the highest rate of paedophilia in Europe, and told us that when he works as a bouncer he likes to carry a firearm!

But the topic that really turned him on was drugs. The longest conversation we had was when he expounded a long-winded conspiracy theory about how governments ban drugs because they cause mind-expansion and how Hitler used to do a line of coke every time he invaded a new county…? He also informed us that Prozac is used to ween addicts off various white powders. Starring at his blank face I wondered if he was talking from personal experience. He also had an encyclopaedic knowledge of Chopper Reed’s writings (apparently the only books he’s read). Still, his ignorance was startling; he had no idea of where he was and believed Lake Lugano a salt-water lake! He gawked at us in disbelief when we informed him that Switzerland is surroundedby land and, therefore, has no ocean.

“They are just not our kind of people,” Nick said in the end. It’s true. We have nothing in common. In hindsight, the signs were there from the start. First of all you’ve got to ask yourself, what kind of people don’t smile, hug or kiss on their honeymoon? What kind of people don’t want to be alone on their honeymoon? What kind of people have completely dissimilar wedding bands? And what kind of people have their credit card rejected on their honeymoon?

Following their wishes, I’d organized a rent-a-car for over the weekend. Not only was I asked to walk them to the Hertz agency and assist in filling out the paperwork, but I also ended up having to debit the car expenses to my Visa after his MasterCard was rejected. Now you would think that they’d offer to pay me back in cash then and there but they didn’t. I didn’t even get a thank you for organizing the car. Not even after Nick and I spent all of Saturday driving them up and down the hills and around the lake to show them the place. Not even after we had to return the car on their behalf on Sunday evening, after they bailed out of a pic nic that we’d organized for them.

We had agreed to spend Sunday by the river, high up in the mountains. After five hours sleep following a late night on Saturday after taking our guests to a club, I woke up at seven a.m. to make potato salad and prepare enough food for the four of us. At ten a.m. when we were meant to leave, an sms informed me that they were both sick and allegedly bed ridden!

After that, Nick and I had enough and left them to their own devices. I even joked about it saying, “I bet they’ll eat at Mary’s and think it’s really good.” I was right: they later raved about how much they enjoyed the food at Mary’s and at this and that restaurant – tourist traps with dubious hygiene that offer average food at inflated prices. On their last day in Lugano, we asked them if they wanted to lunch with us but again, they cancelled at the last minute. On other occasions, they were happy to let us shout them drinks without any attempt at reciprocating – again we never even got a thank you. It was a struggle even to get them to pay for just half the car rental!

In the end we were glad to see the back of them. Meanwhile, I’ve come to the following conclusion: they were just a couple of crude and shallow suburbanites. After all, what kind of man buys a pellet gun and tries to smuggle it back illegally on his honeymoon? And why did she feel compelled to tell us she wasn’t wearing any underwear? In conclusion, their visit has really made me appreciate my friends a lot more. It’s made me realize just how easily we can take the people who are important in our lives for granted and how precious these relationships are. Having spent a few days in bad company, Nick and I have come to re-asses our own standards and we are truly grateful, for all the richness and beauty in our lives!