Ex. 12. Who is speaking and where are they? a. How much is it to the next stop?
b. A return to Reading, please – with a student travel card.
c. May I see your passport, please?
d. Would you like a lift?
e. Put your seatbelt on, please.
f. Where to, mate?
g. On today’s flight we will be flying at 10,000 feet.
Ex. 13. Prepare to talk about the most unusual or exciting journey you have ever been on: a. Where did you go?
b. Who did you go with?
c. How did you travel?
d. What did you see and what happened during the journey?
e. What was special about it?
Ex. 14. You are going to read a magazine article about going on holidays. For questions 1-7 choose the best answer which you think fits best according to the text.
Getting Away From It All Somewhere around February it begins. The drizzle is coming down outside and the kids are bored on a Saturday afternoon. It’s usually then that my husband decides it is time to plan our summer holiday. Out come the brochures and the discussion begins.
It’s not that we’re an argumentative family, but it seems that where we are to spend two weeks in the summer relaxing brings out the worst in us. Before too long, we’re all insisting on places and refusing others, the volume steadily increasing. My daughter discovers a lifelong ambition to go to India. Funny how she never mentions it before. My son isn’t going anywhere unless he can bring his dog and my husband doesn’t mind where he goes as long as it’s within five miles of a golf course.
As usual, it’s left to someone, and guess who, to find somewhere that everybody is willing to accept (the dog goes to the neighbors, though). This can take some weeks of persuading, reminding and convincing on my part, but usually there’s a solution. Then it’s time to plan the packing. It seems that everybody else believes that it can be done half an hour before we leave for the airport. My husband lays out things he wants to take and put them back when he’s not looking and get out the real holiday clothes. My daughter wants to take everything she owns. Each item she has to put back is the subject of another argument.
Finally the day arrives and we get to the airport in plenty of time. This happens because I start to shout five hours earlier that we are going in five minutes, ready or not. Once at the airport, we check in. It sounds simple enough, but the thing is that airports are full of people running around who don’t know where to go. Not surprising since we only do it once a year and we’ve forgotten where we went last time. We finally find the right desk, get rid of the bags and go through to the departure lounge.
Somewhere around here I can finally think about relaxing. Not for me the cold sweats, shaking, and nervous wondering about the plane. Everything is somebody else’s problem. If there’s something wrong with the plane, the pilot can worry about it. If a passenger has a heart attack, the stewards can worry about it.
And so begin two weeks of relaxation. I learned long ago that the only way to do it is to stop being cold “Mum”. For those two weeks, whenever I hear the word I look around as if it refers to someone else. I ignore any question that begins with “Where’s my…”. The funny thing is that they always find it anyway. The only thing I worry about is which book I’m going to take to the pool. My husband follows a ball around a course, my kids do whatever kids do these days and I become myself again for a short while.