There she goes, squirreling into the corner of your carry-on. Ready for another adventure. Tucked between a fun floppy hat and the flourescent sun-block, of which she uses plenty, pale creature that she is, Monique is situated to prove to you that a seasoned traveller knows best. Dressed in a curly mohair (so as not to show the wrinkles that betray one new to the jet set) and sporting a pale chiffon scarf – to double as a disquise in those cities where she is already known for her somewhat silly escapades – she seems to wink at you and beckon you along. Forget your cares, but by no means your playing cards, and step lightly into whatever dreams your next voyage should hold for you: let Monique be your guide.
Her very presence alleviates all the maladies brought on by the jostling of trains, the dipping of ships, the swerving of buses and even by the simple fact that you are far from home. For she has discovered the secret to successful travel; with the exception of the luscious few minutes in the X-ray machine, where she delights in making funny faces at the operators searching for more dangerous contents. Monique never looks back.
(With thanks to Carol Dacko for bringing along an interesting dinner companion for my own cuddly friends. Somehow I doubt they’ll ever be the same – she’s terribly sophisticated for my lot!)