www.OllyAndBecca.uk
Our first holiday in Camber sands

Cape Town!

So I eventually managed to find some internet to connect to the world!

My trip got off to a rather hectic start, the bus to Heathrow thought it would be fun to break down before it picked us up from Milton Keynes. Of course this meant that when a replacement bus turned up it was getting rather late. Then the new bus decided that it would go to Luton, now Luton airport I don’t mind so much, but for some very odd reason the driver went to the town centre first, in rush hour. Then, because we were obviously ahead of schedule, we went via Hemal Hempstead, sigh. So by the time we got to the airport I had less than an hour to get on the plane…..

Now the bus drops you at the central bus station at Heathrow, turns out terminal 4 is a train ride away from there, sigh. On the train I jumped, it didn’t matter how much I was willing the train to move, it didn’t (note to self: improve Jedi mind skills to train moving level). Eventually it left, then when I arrived the running began…..

I ran to the bag drop point (having eagerly checked-in online), then I waited. And then I waited some more. Eventually got to the front, now as much as I love to laugh about my passport picture with people, there’s a time and a place, and when I have less than 30 minutes to catch a plane it is not one of those times, admittedly it is one of those places. But definitely not the time.

So bag checked I began what must have looked like a scene from a bad film where some lunatic runs across the airport, weaving in and out of the crowd, jumping bags and the like (I wonder if I could ask B.A.A. for a copy of the C.C.T.V.). I got to the security gate and amazingly there was only a few people in front, still, gonna be cutting it close.

Through the security gate, of course it beeps, even though there is nothing metallic on me (I am sure I have been tagged in some kind of dastardly secret service plot – one day I shall do it naked. Just to prove a point you understand). And then to run to the gate, carrying my belongings in my now rather sweaty arms. I look at my watch as I run, and I have minutes left, I’m gonna make it!

I get to the gate and the woman said: “Are you going to Cape Town?”, “Yes, pant pant”, I said, half expecting her to say the gate closed early, “Well it’s been delayed by half an hour” she said. “Pfffffffffffff”, I replied with my utmost disdain. So I had got all sweaty and done exercise for no reason! Still it meant that I could buy a plug adapter and get the correct currency (Euros wasn’t it?).

As you might expect, the B.A. webpage that let me pick a row with more leg room lied, and I was stuck with my knees banging the chair in front. Being an overnight flight meant that I would get absolutely no sleep (I never do on planes). So when I arrived ten hours later I was shattered. Of course it was too early to check into my hotel, so I had to go and sit somewhere for a few hours. But I got to my room eventually, and that’s where I am now.

I head up to the observatory on Tuesday morning, so until then I am an Englishman abroad, now where’s that midday sun? I need some to get on with some lobsterification……

Irresponsible neighbours

So last week we left our house to go to work when I noticed our garage door looked a little odd, on closer inspection I realised it had been crashed into.

Someone had hit the door and bent it, and broken the nice PVC bit at the top. Very annoying given that it wasn’t that long ago that we had the whole garage redone.

broken garage pvc

Given that the PVC bit that was broken is very high up, the two broken bits at the top are the same distance apart as the uprights on a typical ladder, and the bend in the door is a vertical bend from top to bottom, it is fair to say that it must have been a van that did it.

Now as it happens a van parks illegally outside our garage every day and guess what; it has a big ladder on top that matches EXACTLY the broken bits. The company that owns the van is EDS Aircon Ltd (clearly an irresponsible company if they don’t care about hit and runs). So after a bit of digging I found out where the van owner lives and wouldn’t you know it, he is not at all forthcoming about the whole issue.

So after a few hours a hammering the door back to a normal shape it at least opens, but I am left waiting for a reference number from the police and an insurance claim to deal with.