Our travel agent, Renee, looks like a teenager, is very capable and efficient and, most importantly, doesn't treat me like an idiot just because I'm old enough to be her grandmother. Perfect qualifications for her job.
Today she gave me a package of paperwork - e-tickets for the various flights, accommodation vouchers, car hire details, numbers to ring in an emergency and pamphlets about what we can and can't carry on the plane. Now her job is done and my job is to interpret the paperwork correctly and end up at the right place at the right time. "Good luck" she said with a smile. "You'll have fun. Tell me all about it when you get back." I wonder if she meant it. Surely she doesn't really want to hear all about it. But I probably will pop in because she'll be able to help me plan my next trip. "What?" I hear Phil say. "We're going again??"
We have to decide whether we need a GPS unit for the car, or make do with paper maps. We don't have one here so we have to weigh up whether to buy one now and add a UK/Europe map. How much would we use it here in Australia when we get back? Hiring a unit with the car in the UK would be more expensive. We have to decide soon.