It’s that time of year, pumpkins. For ghouls, goblins and all manner of undead to rise up from whence they were banished and take up new positions in travel.
I’ve been sussing out a rumour, dahrlings, that a cute little ferret is furrowing his way across the pond back to Canada. (Did you know ferrets are sexually dimorphic? Don’t worry, dear, your secret’s safe with me. God knows, there are times when even a doorknob will do.)
Let’s call the domesticated mammal E.F. What we know about E.F. is that he's abandoned his burrow as Managing Director of Superbreak in U.K. and I bet chips to donuts he’s heading this way to once again follow his master from MyTravel Canada days. Need I say more? Have I said too much? I never know, really.
And then there’s the legendary ifrightful tale of the one who sells his company’s blood and sweat for 50 million, cuts off its head in a gory coup, and now wants it back again – minus a limb or two.
Greek gods who ate their children have nothing on travel, dahrlings…
