So kind, thoughtful and efficient, these travel insurance companies. Insure and Go, which I have been with for decades, sent me a reminder saying my insurance was due for renewal. It reminded me that last year I had taken out a Silver annual multi-trip policy for £723.89. Had I? Goodness, it seemed a lot.
The insurer was now offering me a 10 per cent discount as a loyal customer if I renewed within 30 days. Sounds good, I will have some of that. I was going to Bequia in St Vincent and the Grenadines in January, but having my op rather ruined my life, not just my gallbladder, so I put the trip back to March. Better get covered, I suppose.
But why? In 37 years of going to the Caribbean I have always taken out travel insurance but haven’t claimed once. I once paid £50 to see a GP in Barbados, but I didn’t claim for it because it turned out my excess was £120.
What a mistake it has been, growing old
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Almost by the same post, two other insurers reminded me that my travel policy was about to expire and offered some fab deals. How did they know? Do they ring each other and say: “Psst, wanna sucker who has paid for 37 years and never claimed?”
I rang Insure and Go, and it took for ever answering all its questions. I told it everything: about my recent op and all my past medical excitements. After a lot of waiting and knob-turning the call handler came back and said: “Sorry, we can’t insure you.”
“You what?” I gasped.
“Because of your age and health history,” they said.
“Yet you have offered me 10 per cent off my last year’s policy. Surely you know my age? One year older than last year’s age,” I replied.
I got out the letter with the offer. It was personally signed by the head of operations, complete with her picture. It included her best wishes — a really caring insurance firm.
And now it couldn’t offer any cover at all. “Oh God, can you recommend a firm that might?” After a long wait I was given the names of two companies. I rang one and went through the same rigmarole of endless questions — eventually it said I could get cover for . . . £4,000. We flew on Concorde for less than that back in 1986.
All my fault of course. What a mistake it has been, growing old. And having bits falling off. Serves me right.
Should I call the holiday off? But I had paid for the flights, Virgin upper class, and hotels upfront, plus £440 extra per person, which is what my travel agent charged me when I changed the flights from January to March.
Should we just go to the Isle of Wight instead? Take the hovercraft and imagine it is Virgin upper class with champagne all the way?
The thing about insurance (of any sort) is that it is so difficult to avoid. I remember in 1962 buying our house and being told we had to have insurance. I said I can’t afford it. So I will take my chance. Hard cheese, you won’t get a mortgage without.
When we had children, know-alls said you need life insurance now, in case anything happens to you.
Car insurance, you can’t avoid that. Thankfully I have not had a car since my wife died seven years ago. I groaned every year I had to pay the insurance. It always seemed to go up, even with so-called no-claims bonuses.
In fact, year after year, all insurance policies always go up. Even during the good times. For no proper reason. OK, you can shop around, find a better deal, but I can’t cope with all that online nonsense and I always make mistakes. And anyway they turn out much the same.
They go on about their costs going up, inflation and other bollocks, as if their customers are not suffering even more than they are.
I have told my four granddaughters, don’t bother with all that studying and then getting daft things like a master’s. Why not leave school at 16 and join an insurance company? You could be onto a winner.
So did I go to Bequia? Of course I did. I had three wonderful weeks with my lady friend. She got insurance cover, being a young woman of only 76 — ten years younger than me. (Oh no, you now know my age.)
I did worry the first few days when getting in and out of the sea, in and out of the bar, and in and out of bed, that I might fall or do something daft. It is a remote island, and I would have to be airlifted for anything serious.
And then I forgot about it. The rum punches did help . . .
