Updates

I am writing this from ‘upstairs’. Our landlords are away for the day (well, he’s more or less always away, she had to go to Cambridge to sample the menu for a big dinner party — it’s a tough life for some people), but are having builders coming by (they are putting on a new roof). So, I agreed to ‘house sit’ for the day, to make sure they don’t wreck the place completely. A few brownie points for me, and the chance to use their connected computer.

Our saga continues… Or rather, it doesn’t, because nothing is happening. I am, of course, talking about our phone line/broadband. We contacted one of the big companies, which had a great deal on offer, two weeks ago. Yes, we would get everything installed in four days. Great. The fourth day came and went. Nothing! Contacted the company after a week. No, they couldn’t do us, because someone in that flat had already had a deal with them before. Eh?! So!? Well, company policy, they can’t renew on an address until a certain time has passed. Ok, it’s now after business hours, so wait a day and call different company. Straightforward no! Excuse me?! They don’t do our side of the street! (As if ours was the bad side or something.) Now, it’s Friday and after business hours, so can’t call until Tuesday, because Monday is a bank holiday. Aaah! So, today, Tim has to find a third (!) company, and hopefully they are happy to do business with us. So, in a few days, maybe, we will be connected again…

Anyway, we’ve had a nice bank holiday weekend. The original plan was to go back to Dursley this weekend, but it suited everyone better to do it the next instead. Good for us, because it’s really one of those times of the year you don’t want to travel (and definitely not buy the tickets on the day before). Instead, on the Saturday, we worked a bit (as always), and then went to see Peter and Elena in Beckton, far, far out on the DLR (‘Dockland’s Light Railways’, or something like that). Elena, being Italian, served the most amazing home made pasta. I was in heaven!

Sunday, we quickly went by Trafalgar Square, to see a little bit of the handing over of the Olympics*. Then on to Tim’s office to pick up some paperwork and to John Lewis on Oxford Circus to look for a dress for me (fancy dinner party coming up — see reference to landlady’s menu tasting above), but the one I had seen was sold out. I was a bit mopy, but cheered up after a very late lunch/early dinner in Strada (they make a goat cheese pizza which is to kill for). Strolled down to Piccadilly Circus and went in to Zavvi (music store, former ‘Virgin’), where we bought season four of Futurama. Yes, we are still without a proper TV, and have been watching all the episodes in season three (which we already owned) too many times. It’s was about time for something new. Went down to St James’ park to catch the end of the Olympics, and then back home for some chocolate, wine and Futurama. Perfect Sunday! Bank holiday Monday was spent in Notting Hill, where the annual Carnival was on its last day. Loads of people, but not as unpleasant as, for instance, the Chinese New Year’s festival we went to earlier in the year, when you were unable to move. Some entertaining people, with great costumes and music. Food and beer sold at every street corner. Very nice, and I am now ready to take percussion lessons in a samba band!


* ‘Team GB’ (which I consider a pretty silly name) has made this year’s Olympic games the best one for the country in over 100 years (and I guess it is pretty impressive, if one considers that GB at that time was a super power with loads of colonies. Also, it’s a good starting point for all sports, since the success was mostly thanks do great funding the last year, so I suspect there will be a lot of lobbying for the next four years). So everyone (more or less) is now pretty excited about having the next summer Olympics. And, I confess, so am I. Tim and I now take bookings for whoever wants to come and stay with us (we are pretty sure we will still be living somewhere in London) for the summer of 2012. First come, first serve (although we might possibly get mean, and say: best paying, first serve).