Oh no, Where’s my Filmfest pass? The final check of keys, glasses and pass before setting out for Tuesday’s movies showed that it was missing. What to do, what to do? Ring the office, no reply (only to be expected at this time of an evening.) think back, think back to yesterday, when it was safe.
Ah yes, I’d put it in my bag while watching the marvellous Mao’s Last Dancer. After the excitement of seeing the movie and the unexpected thrill of seeing Li Cunxin in person in the cinema it must have slipped out of my bag while I was gathering myself together.
The next day the ticket lady in Cinemaxx pointed me in the direction of a Filmfest organiser, who in turn took me to her colleague. Lovely people, not only had they found my pass but they had already returned it to the accreditation office in the Pony Club. Such efficiency. The couple then phoned the office to make doubly sure that it was safe. And it was.
After a pleasant walk on a sunny October afternoon from Cinemaxx to Abaton, the pass was in my hands again, ready for that night’s movies. “Your hair looks redder on your photograph,” said the observant young woman as she handed it over. “You can thank L'oreal for that,” I replied. We laughed.
And that isn’t the end of the story. Becky and Marinell both went out of their way to contact me to tell me that my pass had been found and was safe. So five star efficiency and five star kindness was given by all involved .