How to complain properly instead of hiding behind online reviews - Sarah Todd

It doesn’t. In fact, it’s a skill – or vice depending on people’s viewpoints – that has only recently been discovered.

Apparently, as a nation, our biggest gripe is people who queue jump.

Travel delays, passengers playing loud music on public transport and parcels arriving late also make the list. In our increasingly technological age trouble connecting to wi-fi also gets people’s backs up.

Read more: Real Yorkshire being pushed out by Airbnb and halloumi-eating househunters - Sarah ToddIt’s only over the last week, when The Husband took this correspondent away for our silver wedding anniversary, that the courage to step up to the plate and complain has been properly plucked up.

It all began with an afternoon visit to an iconic tearoom (the sort that serves sandwiches without any crusts).

It was such a disappointment; the tea was like dishwater. It came in a fabulous silver-style teapot and was served on a platter with a doily underneath.

But the liquid itself, even after a stir and at least six minutes’ wait, was paler than yours truly and that’s saying something.

The delicate little tea strainer revealed next to no leaves and it was so disappointing there was nothing for it but to pluck up courage and gently mention it to the waitress.

To say she looked shocked that someone had dared criticise the tea in such an establishment is an understatement.

Fast-forward and the offending item was knocked off the bill and, emboldened, the milestone of 25 years of marriage was punctuated with two more complaints …

The steak at the restaurant was, there is no point pussyfooting around, chewy.

Our server must have said something in the kitchen and we wanted to hide under the tablecloth when we saw the chef coming over.

But we needn’t have worried, he said it was the first piece out of a new batch of meat and thanked us in such a sincere way for letting him know.

As a beef farmer’s daughter it’s probably the only culinary item, apart from a decent cup of tea, that this correspondent is qualified to comment on.

It was erased from the bill and a bottle of complimentary wine brought out.

The problem is, he explained, that rather than saying something, the modern diner goes home and from behind the anonymity of a computer keyboard leaves a critical review.

Far better, he insisted, to flag something up at the time rather than get the knives out on the internet. Nasty online reviews can cause lasting damage to a business. Checking out of our hotel, the receptionist did that thing where they say ‘I trust you’ve enjoyed your stay?’

It was so difficult but we told him – with the help of an analogy about having spent a lot of time in rugby clubs and never having heard language as bad – about the wedding guests marauding through the building who had sworn like troopers from the moment they arrived for the ceremony they were attending at 11am in the morning.

There were elderly hotel guests and children within earshot, but they carried on cursing and not one member of staff was brave enough to tell them to put a sock in it.

The man who has been married to me for two and-a-half decades couldn’t have been more British and reserved about it; but he knew in his bones something needed saying.

The second the complaint had been made the sense of relief in the hotel was palpable.

It was like the elephant in the room had been mentioned.

Other guests smiled and nodded their appreciation and the receptionist visibly relaxed and admitted it had been a nightmare, the worst day of his working life.

The manager had been on a day’s holiday and the remaining staff had felt intimidated by the motley crew of wedding guests.

As if by magic, the manager appeared from his day off and spent time talking to each of the guests. Just niceties about the weather and attractions to visit, but there was no doubt that if he had been on duty the vulgar language would have been nipped in the bud.

He refunded our drinks bill – we didn’t ask for or expect anything with any of our trio of complaints – and we would definitely stay there again.

In fact, we haven’t stopped recommending the hotel since.

Being British doesn’t go hand-in-hand with complaining and, let’s be honest, there is nothing more unattractive than a moaner. Someone for whom the glass is always half

empty.

But as face-to-face business declines – just think of all those self-service checkouts and home deliveries – it’s so important we don’t lose our voices.

We need to speak up for decent service, for our children at schools and those who are vulnerable.

The moment we stop questioning and complaining when things don’t come up to scratch is the beginning of the end.

It took a quarter of a century and an overpriced, understrength cup of tea to remind us that it’s important to speak out.

Not only when things go wrong, but perhaps even more importantly to show appreciation when things go right.