(I'm the one next to the old guy)

Saturday, July 19, 2025

Second recon on our last day in Frankfurt

 Wandered to a Saturday market nearby.


Flower markets are obviously a thing here.



Stopped for a pizza and a drink.



A bee claimed ownership of my drink.


Bugger

My wife is pathetic

 She tells me that her favorite purchase for this trip was a VPN subscription. 

For safety? No

For security? No

So that she can watch fucking Corro Street on TVNZ

Pathetic

Friday, July 18, 2025

First recon on German soil

 Ventured out for a look around the neighbourhood.

Found a Woolworths. Not a supermarket, but a cross between a $2 shop and a small department store. Sarah picked up a couple of tops and a drink bottle.

Then we found an Aldi. This is a supermarket. If you have Sarah's fetish for checking out the nearest supermarket in any new town, then you will be familiar with Aldi. We've seen them in Australia and the UK.

I did notice that a particular shopper habit has transcended both language and continent:


Picking up an item to buy, changing your mind, and then depositing it back on a completely random shelf. Sarah and I often chuckle about this in our local supermarkets. 

Obviously some human traits are universal, even the bad ones.

That coke bottle will find no freunden this shelf. Not punny? Really?








Something I did not expect was that they would treat their meat like we would expect to find a pack of batteries, toothbrushes or box cutters. 

Plastic wrapped onto a cardboard backing.









On our way back to the hotel, Sarah noticed this flower shop. Rather old school. Nice.



Credit to Nicola Jane

Many years ago, Nicci told us that she had occasionally taken a power box overseas. One of those multiplug boxes that you plug your crap into, using up only one wall socket. 

This can then be plugged into an adapter for whatever country you’re in. 

A brilliant idea for when every phone or device came with it's own 3-pin plug on the charger. 

Now, of course, everything has moved to USB, first type-A, and more recently type-C. 

So a pocket full of cables is now standard. 

I have a couple of adaptors I carry now that cover all countries. They also have USB plugs built in. 

My biggest concern, however, is the weight of adapters. Once you’ve loaded it up with USB cables, and maybe a 3-pin plug hanging off the back for those that take it, and it’s pretty heavy. That means that all of the weight is hanging a couple of inches away from the prongs of the plug.

If it’s the Au/NZ plug or the UK/SIN/UAE style, there’s a lot to hold on with. For the EU type, not so much. 2 round pins, no more.

Add to that, hotel rooms. Like many things that get used many times daily, hotel room plugs get a little loose. Just sayin’. 

So we have to be prepared for the occasion when the plug wants to fall out of the plug, or the socket is so close to some furniture that you can’t use it with a bulky adapter.

And then I found it. Circling back to Nicola Jane’s idea. In K-Mart (I know, right?!?), I found a perfect toy from Anko.

It has 2 x 3-pin plugs for hair-dryer or cpap machine

It has 2 x USB-A ports

It has 2 x USB-C ports

It also has an assortment of plugs to suit your country du jour. 

Plus, this is the only adaptor I’ve seen with the full round plug for Europe, called a schuko plug. 

The round body fits into the socket to better support the fit. 


The alternative is a flat plug called a Europlug. 

Because it’s not the shape of the circular recess in the socket, it doesn’t support the weight quite as well. 

They're not terrible, because their shape includes a wedge at each end that is supported in the round recess.
Most travel plugs use this style, for lack of bulk, particularly in a multiplug. 

As one final note to flexibility, I have put a short extension cord in my bag, for the older properties that are not replete with plug locations.


Bottom line. I’ve done my PhD and hopefully have all possible hotel room scenarios covered. It would not go well for me if Sarah's phones and work iPad don't get the warm buzz of electricity every night.

Having now said that, sure as eggs is eggs, an unexpected scenario will hit me upside of the head sometime soon.




Welcome to Germany

We landed last night at Frankfurt about 1940. It was either a quiet part of the terminal or a quiet time of the day. Or both. 

The first sign was the long staircase ahead of us just after getting off the aircraft. Strait up with 2 landings on the way. Shit!! Where’s the defib machine when I need it?

After I got to the top I noticed an unused escalator parallel to the steps. Didn’t feel the need to turn it on when a 777 pulls up? Pretty sure i wasn't hallucinating the escalator after the exertion, but we didn't see it at the bottom of the steps.

That reminds me... Did you hear about the blonde who go stuck for 2 hours when the escalator she was on broke down?  Never mind.

Then customs. Lots of flash new immigration pods with their welcoming glowing lights. Roped off. We had to queue for 3 customs officers.

By the way, there were 2 separate zones. One for EU passports, where the immigration drones were usable, and one for the riff raff. Where they weren’t.

Not too arduous, though. Soon got through, and found the belts with our luggage. One for Economy, one for the posh classes. Maybe this terminal is for smaller aircraft.

Soon had our bags and walked out. This is definitely not on the scale of Dubai. This part of the building is not much different in size from Christchurch.

Then the drama was finding our driver. Rebooking is easier in a foreign country, right?

Sarah had a text from him before we left Dubai, so she rang him. Doesn’t speak English, but he’ll be there in 2 minutes.

All is well. 

About a 15-20 minute ride, a small taste of autobahns to come.

The driver found the hotel, but struggled to find the entrance. We got there, and said goodbye to our rather peculiar driver. He reminded me of one of those caricature underlings in a Frankenstein or villain movie.

Igor.

Unkind, I know. You were warned.


Thursday, July 17, 2025

Asian Prayer


 Tik is a very dear friend of ours, who I happen to work with.

She is many things to many people:

To Sarah, she is a "sister from another mister"

To me, she is my favourite "Crazy Bitch Asian"


The reason for this post is that she made an observation some time ago:

  • Christians pray before they eat. They call it saying grace.
  • Asians take photos of their food.
So what would be more appropriate than calling these photos an Asian Prayer?

We often take these photos, just to send to Tik, hoping to make her jealous.



She's also a bit of a local restaurant whisperer.

I'd take a photo of my plate, and most of the time she could name the restaurant we were in.

Anyway, throughout this trip, one or two Asian prayers will make it into this blog.
They are for Tik's benefit.

I may just mention an Asian prayer from time to time. Now you know what I mean.


Wednesday, July 16, 2025

A Trick of the Light




Dubai is as different as day and night


 






Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Grill or Sautéed?


 So we touched down at about 0015 local time, and it was about 38deg outside.

What? But there is no sun? What the...

I first experienced this in Kuala Lumpur. Sitting at a cafe on the pavement, eating ice-cream at midnight. No logic sometimes in nature.

This looks like the beginning of the Lobster Tour. Should I just tough it out au naturel for the grilled effect, or rub on some kind of accoutrement for a sautéed finish?

A short ride to our B&B. A wee place called Obelisk. Sarah is clocking up her points.

Nice. I keep expecting my old friend Asterix pop up from behind one of the pillars in the foyer



When we checked in, the guy told us that we were connected to a small mall. We checked it out today. Wafi Mall has over 250 stores and 31 food outlets. Just a small mall.




Something I haven't seen before, is the way you call the lift. That's elevator for the educated.
All the controls are on the outside.You type the floor you want, and then it tells you which lift has been assigned. Go to that lift and wait for it to arrive.
If there are multiple floors entered, the screen shows you all of them.
A little odd, methinks.


In our room was a nice sweet treat, complements of the hotel



What I didn't expect was the postcard. Have a closer look...


Nice touch.

By the way, this is the view from our room.






Off to Dubai

 Took the 21 o'clock flight from Singapore to Dubai. Sarah watched some mushy romantic movie, then watched Bridget Jones Diary. Again. So 2 mushy romantic movies, then. A pattern here.

I did some more work on my project, and we both dozed for the second half of the 7-hr flight.

Singapore is 4-hrs behind NZ time, and Dubai is 4-hrs behind Singapore. Frankfurt will be 2-hrs behind Dubai. By the time we get to Europe, our body clocks will be a little screwed, even if it is a gentle screwing, over a few days. The kind with flowers and chocolates.

Actually, that reminds me of an old joke. A pre-PC joke, I suppose.

A young couple meet at a pub, and hit it off very well. So well, in fact, that they needed to consumate their meeting immediately, so off they go to the back seat of his car.

After they're done, the young man is remorseful. "If I'd known you were a virgin, I would have taken it slower".

To which the young woman replied "If I'd known you were in such a hurry, I'd have taken my pantyhose off".

WOW! That took a turn..

I did warn you at the top. My mind diverts into peculiar cul-de-sacs on a fairly regular basis.

Anyway...











The tail view camera has fairly crappy resolution, but it has it's moments


Landed in Dubai without incident
Something I noticed on the marathon from our gate to the Arrivals hall in Dubai.
At regular intervals, EK have these racks, ready for the exhausted child.


They actually need more adult sizes.
If you think the walk at Christchurch Regional to gate 5 is a long way, then the Concourse designer for Dubai Airports simply says "Hold my beer".

Damn it's a long walk, and that includes a series of travelators.



Sunday, July 13, 2025

SG60

Singapore is turning 60.
To celebrate, there a a myriad of events, but probably the biggest one is a National Day Parade held on August 9th.
They have been practicing for this for months.
Every Saturday afternoon they have been closing the roads used for the parade, so that they can have rehearsals, then dress rehearsals, then more rehearsals.
Yesterday the peace was destroyed by military aircraft blasting low overhead. Twice during dinner. Any loose fillings were at risk.Very loud. Rehearsing.
They take their National Day seriously.
They take everything seriously. 


These photos caught about 4 Police Special Operations Command Units driving past Raffles.
I'm guessing they were involved in the rehearsals.
You certainly wouldn't want one of then rolling up to your street party on the weekend.
Serious people. They could teach Trump's ICE agents a thing or two.

It's amazing how such a small country has such a serious military. If we tried planning for some fighter jets to do a flyover in New Zealand, we'd have to borrow them. We haven't had any for 24 years.

The navy isn't much better supported. 2 ships.
Rumour has it that during the Falklands war in 1982, we offered to send a couple of frigates, but couldn't get them started. Just sayin'




 

Saturday, July 12, 2025

Compulsory Stop

 When in Singapore, a visit to Raffles is somewhat compulsory. 


A very elegant old British establishment, the Famous Long Bar is on the first and second floors. We picked a quiet time. Previously, we have had to queue outside and wait for a table.




As you can see from the prices, the obligatory sling is not a cheap way to get drunk. Buy your date the Vintage Sling and she will be more impressed than your bank manager.



And for the uninitiated, this is a cleaner's nightmare. That is a bag of peanuts on the table in front of Sarah's niece. Help yourself to the peanuts and drop the shells on the floor.

No parent or significant other would thank you for bringing that particularly habit home. 

They also won't believe that shelling peanuts qualifies as exercise of any kind.

No surprise that Sarah’s OCD had her twitchy about the mess. If she’d seen a broom, there would have been no stopping her. 




We're in Singapore

 Just to catch you up....

Wednesday was our last day of work.

Thursday we flew Christchurch to Auckland in the afternoon, and stayed at a hotel within a stone's throw from Auckland International terminal.

We do this a lot, because Sarah only does one sector a day. I tease her mercilessly about it, so don't tell her that it's a good idea. Too often we have had to deal with passengers who had their trip upended before it began, because the weather set in and they missed their connections. Or there are mechanical issues with the domestic flight because the pilot's wallet got wedged behind his seat cushion. Or maybe the plane was broken.

Regardless, there are many reasons why what started as a perfect connection between two flights, domestic or international, turns quickly into a scramble for seats to get somewhere.


OK, so Friday morning we saunter into check-in, all refreshed and with all the time in the the world. (Don't tell her, OK?)

We check out the Premium check-in space, because I'm a Koru member. Pretty civilised, but with 4 bag drops it's odd that we can only use the one with a staff member draped over it. Policy schmolicy.

The fun thing is that this check-in area has a private lift to the premium queue at Emigration upstairs. That's a nice touch.

So through the sensory overload called duty free, we navigate to the Air New Zealand lounge.

Pretty busy here, but we find a couple of seats. A few choices for breakfast, and then we just wait for the call to the gate, that the lounge PA promised.

Unfortunately, the call didn't come, so we made our way to the gate when the app told me they were boarding. Gate 5 is only a short walk, so no harm no foul.

To be fair, I've been a firm believer that if you can afford Koru membership, you can afford a fucking watch. So there's that. Just don't over-promise.


The flight to Singapore was uneventful, and I mean that in a good way. Premium Economy seats are like the old-school Business class on some airlines. I actually prefer this to our Business product. That is a very insular experience, and not really designed to travel with the Missus.

The food, as always, was terrific. Like a Clayton's Business Class menu. Sarah had the fish, and loved it. I had the porkbelly. Perfect. Snack after a few hours I had a ham sandwich, Sarah had salmon. Then dinner before landing I did the short ribs and Sarah did the trifecta with another fish dish.

That in itself is odd. Sarah almost never chooses fish on the ground. She made up for that here.

During the flight, she read a couple of her trashies, had a snooze, and watched Paddington in Peru (again), and the new, woke Snow White.

I spent most of the flight working on a self-imposed project for work. Our Collective is too many pages and too convoluted. Every negotiation we've been in, we all had best intentions of tidying up the clauses to work better together. Every time we run out of time.

So that's my mission before I retire. Not to rebuild it, but to make a Readers Digest version, grouping together the clauses that matter to people. So that was me during our 10-hr flight. I'll be doing that during the flights, or when I'm not writing to you, dear readers.

Arrival in Singapore is such a doddle, compared to most places. Off the aircraft and a short walk to the escalator down to arrivals. I know that this is a huge airport, and sometimes there are many, many travelators to get you where you need to be. Like BKK.

But wherever AirNZ have negotiated to land here, it's really close.

Once we got to the top of the escalator, I knew where I was. Looking down into a huge room (empty this time of day), the far wall is literally a wall of self-processing droids.

Last time I was here, there was a wall of uniformed officers doing this job. They're probably all Grab drivers now.


This is all well and good, till I get to the second droid, where I have to be recognised by the camera, and matched to the passport photo I've just shown them at the first droid, in order to get out of the drafting gates.
Let me just say now that they do not have iPhone technology here. Attempt after attempt failed. Then a smug officer with an iPad comes over and says "Take your glasses off", and suddenly I was released and on my way.

Now I ask you...
In every Superman movie you've ever seen, did the Clark Kent glasses REALLY make him unrecognisable as Superman? Of course not. "Oh look, it's Superman with a suit on. And he's wearing glasses"

Not here. Mr Kent had better not present his Superman passport here, or he'd be stuck.

And my iPhone recognises me with or without glasses, moustache or beard. Just saying...





Friday, July 11, 2025

And So it Begins

 So here we are again. 

We’re about to set off on a somewhat extended holiday to Europe. Other than a quick weekend in Sweden a few years ago, and about a month in the UK more recently, we haven’t done that part of the world before. 


Now before you settle in to follow the exploits, we need to reset expectations.

If you’re expecting a testosterone-fuelled romp on a series of rabid Contiki tours, you’re wildly off the mark. 

This will just be a series of observations accompanied by occasional photographic evidence. 

If you know me, you’ll expect my observations to be sometimes obtuse, often vulgar, always without anything resembling a filter. 

If you don’t know me, then what are you doing here?


So let’s start the ball rolling by talking about airport toilet cubicles. I did warn you to lower your expectations!!

I’ve seen this at both Christchurch and Auckland airports. Cubicles with delusions of grandeur, they try to do double duty as a surprise bidet. At random times, it’ll just flush!

For those of us who identify as having low hanging fruit, just know that they will get an unexpected rinse. 


What??


I know they are trying to be clever by using a sensor to flush automatically as you stand up. If only it did. Do better

Saturday, September 7, 2019

Just a quick note on the Beamer


I mentioned we hired a Beamer.

I mentioned it was a diesel. 

I mentioned I am fundamentally allergic to diesel. 

Here’s something else.  Being diesel, I expected good mileage, and I think I did OK. I only topped up the gas when it got down to about 1/3 of a tank full. First time was £50 in Llandudno, then £52 in Oxford, then £62 in Truro, and finally £32 near Heathrow, where we dropped the car. Considering the tank will stretch to around 700 miles (not kilometres), and the fact we did 1740 miles on our drive, it looks good to me. This despite the fact that diesel is more expensive than petrol in the UK. It’s quite a bit cheaper than petrol in NZ. Still not bad at all. 

Now for some advice:

If you’re a deep end kind of thrill seeker, then hire whatever you want, and go hard. Pick a car that will add to your memories. 

If, like me, you’re a boring old fart who wants to stay well inside the comfort zone, then rent something like what you drive at home. If you drive a manual, then do that. If you’re used to an automatic, then get one. As I have said, in the UK you will pay a premium for automatic, but I promise you it’s worth it. I had three gps’s running in the Beamer, and it was great. While the roundabouts may have registered a 7.8 on the sphincter scale, everything else was made so much easier by having an automatic and an integrated GPS. The more you can keep inside your comfort zone, the less chance of disaster, and better chance of enjoying the experience. 

Home James

Saturday September 07

Just one bounce and we’re home.

We checked out from the hotel, but just stuck around soaking up the atmosphere and sun till our pickup. I had woken up with a back issue, so wasn’t doing much walking. God knows how many times Sarah asked if she needed to order me a wchr at the airport. Sounds very caring, doesn’t it? Yeah, not so much. Have you MET my wife?

Had a little glitch when I paid the final bill, but it was easily fixed. They didn’t think we had prepaid the resort fee, but we had.

Resort fees are one of those annoying Americanisms that has come out of the woodwork in recent years, and it is something they expect you to pay directly to them, not to your agent. Another annoying Americanisms is to lay every detail of your bill out on the page. It is so convoluted that you really need to be paying attention to ensure you are not being double-charged. One reason the final account is messy is because, like every Amrikan purchase, they price things and then add plus plus. Taxes and fees. Why not have a quoted price that is the final price!!!??? It’s illegal in NZ or Oz to not include the taxes in the final price advertised. That would be nice, Mr Trump.

We book most of our accommodation through Bookings.com or Hotels.com etc. Sarah likes to make sure that she pays for the hotel on the spot. Some sites will make the booking, but tell you to pay the hotel. That sounds like a great idea, but you are at the mercy of the exchange rate on the day. Prepaying avoids a rate that will kill your credit card.

So my advice is this; by all means book and pay in advance, but take a printout of the confirmation with you. It will show what is included. All I needed to show them was our email from Bookings.com saying very clearly that the 14% tax, the 7% city tax and $30 per day resort fee is included in the paid figure. The hotel was happy to honour the document and take it up with Bookings.com later if they need to.

So off to the airport, and check-in is just opening. Not long and we’re heading for the Star Alliance Lounge that Air New Zealand runs. Not bad, but Sarah was very impressed with the range of food available in the SQ lounge we use in London.

And then it was time to board. Being old and crippled is exhausting. Apparently I was asleep before pushback. After an hour or so, I woke up and the crew helped me to flip my seat over into a bed. Sarah actually started doing it for me, before the crew appeared. She has mastered this. I think she wants to be a hostie when she grows up.

I think I mentioned at the beginning of this trip, that I had been getting some negative feedback about business class. Not me. I’ve now done four sectors in business, and I cannot fault anything. I think there was one sector when nothing on the menu appealed. Not their fault. Just like going to a restaurant, and not enjoying the meal. Just because their version of something doesysuit you doesn’t mean they did a bad job. Not everyone likes the same things.

All crews on all flights were great. I always smile when the announcement includes the scripted warning about ensuring kids fingers don’t get caught in any of the moving seat components. I just wish one day someone will grow a pair and modify it to include kids and husbands. That would be hilarious. 

Wednesday, September 4, 2019

Hotel California

Tuesday September 03

We’re spending a few days in L.A. recovering from the manic pace of our holiday. 

Yes Erin, I know it’s a shit-hole, but we’re avoiding that. 

We have 3 nights in Santa Monica, just a stroll along the beach from the pier. We have no desire to go any further than we are prepared to walk back from, so we are quite insulated from everything except the heat. 
After summer in the British Isles (and living in NZ), it’s hard work walking to the pier on a hot California day. But I guess someone has to do it. 




Did lunch at Bubba Gump’s. I just love this place. We’ve eaten at a Bubba in Las Vegas and New York, and now here. We’ve walked past it on the pier many times, but today we ventured in. 

Just came back from an Italian restaurant in the hotel next door. Nice. 



These last days are not going to be interesting. Sorrow 

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

VAT From a Tourist Perspective

Monday September 02

I don’t know how many countries have a tax refund option for tourists at their airports. 

I’ve used it a lot in Australia. As long as the receipt shows the retailer’s ABN number (whatever that is) and some other details found on most business receipts, and as long as each receipt is for at least AUD300, then just present it to the Refund desk, and Robert’s your Aunty. Pretty straightforward. I’ve only done it with hand luggage sized purchases, because they will usually ask to see the item. Because the refund desk is on the other side of Customs, there will be a more elaborate pre-check-in process for stuff you want to check in. In Sydney, I’ve only used credit card refund, and that takes a few weeks to come through. I think cash is an option, but it’s been a while. More recently I have been using the app provided by the department in charge of the Tourist Refund Scheme (TRS). With that I add a few details from the receipt, and the app generates a barcode for the agent to scan. Very fast. 

In Singapore, we take our luggage to a desk out the front, and show them the receipts. I’m not sure what the minimum receipt value is. They stamp it, and once you go through customs you find the desk who give the refund. We always took cash from them, but I assume cards are similar, if that’s an option. I haven’t seen an app yet, but at least it’s handled by a government agency. 

The glorious European Economic Community is a different kettle of mustard altogether. 

First, Eire is EEC up the wazoo, euro and all. The UK, comprising the top bit of Ireland and all of Scotland Wales and England, have never really been committed to the idea. They have retained the British pound as everyday currency. 

The first thing I will say is that hardly anyone will tell you about the VAT refund scheme. You would think that it doesn’t matter. After all, retailers in Singapore and Australia don’t tell you either. 

It doesn’t matter in those countries because any half-decent receipts will do. But in the EU and the UK, it really does matter. 

Over this side of the world, they need to print out a specific VAT-refund-ready till receipt. If they don’t have that kind of till, they need to manually fill out a form for you.

We had one shop in Eire that offered, and they gave is an electronic card to register at an instore kiosk. Because the expected refund was less than €2, and because the instructions were all about processing at an Irish airport, we didn’t pay enough attention to how we do it at a British airport. 

You will see on the till-printed UK version, that there are a lot of details for you to fill in. You must do this on EVERY receipt! They will probably give you a pre-printed envelope as well. This is so that you can post the receipts if you are leaving from an airport without a manned refund desk. There will be a refund-branded postbox for your convenience. If you collect a few, you will notice different addresses to post to. There is a range of companies who do this work for the government, and each provider seems to have there own unique list of stores that they deal with. After the fact I found an app by one of the companies. If other companies do this as well, then you may find yourself using multiple apps and making multiple claims. Unlike the Australian app, it seems that you need to present your app in the retailer when you pay. In Sydney, just gather up your receipts and load them, any time before you rock up to their counter.

So, back to the beginning. If you are spending more than £30 in the UK in one transaction, and it is not food or other consumables, AND you are taking it permanently out of the EU, then please ASK for a VAT-refund receipt.

And then there is Harrods. When you ask for your VAT receipt, they will give you a normal receipt and send you to Customer Services on the third floor. There, you will find a rather gruff maître d, who will give you a numbered ticket, and tell you to sit down and wait. So this department has up to 20 staff at numbered desks. A screen on the wall has a list of incremental ticket numbers and associated desk numbers. The maître d bellows out the next ticket number to appear, and which desk to go to. You have a VERY short window to make it to the right desk, or you lose your slot. I wait about 10 minutes for my number to appear, and obediently scurry off to desk 7. The girl there takes my receipt and passport, and asks a few questions. She then prints me out a form. This is not my refund. This is just the form I take to the airport. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!!! All of that time, an entire department, just to save having to print out a VAT receipt at the sales counter. Absurd!!!

That’s the easy part. 

When you get to Heathrow (or any other real airport), find the VAT refund desk, and join the queue. In Heathrow, it’s run by Travelex. They will scan the reference number on each receipt and scan your passport. If you have chosen card refund, you will be done, and the money will probably arrive in time for next year’s holidays. If you choose cash, you will get it on the spot, in your currency of choice. I’m told they take a good chunk of your refund as a handling fee if you go with cash. So if you can wait, you make more with the card.

I get why staff don’t ask. Particularly in London, there are a melting pot of shapes, colours and accents, and that’s just the residents. Too often would they be asking some guy who lives 4 blocks away if he’s taking the goods overseas.

Why don’t the shops, or at least the handling company, put a sign on the counter?  Need a VAT receipt? Just ask. 

Monday, September 2, 2019

Go...

Monday September 02

Today we leave London. Currently waiting in the foyer for our car. As expected, too much luggage to manhandle it on the train, without the shark making an appearance.

So while we wait, I thought I might ponder the meaning of life.

You have been warned!

Something I noticed the other day, on our wanders. I have said so many times that I cannot anticipate what will and what will not get my attention from a design perspective. I don’t know why, but I feel that I need to keep making this point. Anyway, here it is.

There is a genius in simplicity.

Something else that both Sarah and I noticed, and “you’re welcome” for no photos.

I guess you have heard of ‘Daisy Dukes’, right? For the uninitiated, these are cut-off jeans with usually frayed edges. And they are cut off short. SHORT!

They are named after a character in the TV show Dukes of Hazzard. And how does Daisy look in her jeans?

Let me translate that into English.    Daaaammnnn!

Anyway...

A few days ago we saw a girl in a pair of Daisy Dukes. And no, she looked nothing like the photo. Worse, they were even shorter than in the photo. As a result, BOTH butt cheeks were hanging below the shorts. Much less fabric and they would have been a denim g-string!!🤦🏼‍♂️🤦🏼‍♂️🤦🏼‍♂️

No photos. And you’re welcome.


On Your Marks, Get Set...

Sunday September 01

Plan A was to take a train-ride to Brighton Beach for the day. Unfortunately, Sarah’s rapidly aging feet meant that, given the requisite amount of walking on a Brighton visit, this would be a really bad idea.

Plan B was to go to Brick Lane for the day. For those who don’t know, Brick Lane is like Ground Zero for Indians moving to London. Needless to say, there are a few Indian restaurants on this street, and they’re probably all very good. Very authentic.

Another fun fact. Most Indian restaurants in London are actually owned and run by Bangladeshis.
Go figure.

As luck would have it, there is maintenance on a number of rail lines this weekend, and most of them are somewhere near Paddington. I knew there must be a way of rerouting ourselves around the offending sections of line, but I couldn’t find one. The assorted apps seem unable to create alternative routes. The apps for the Sydney trains seem to be more user-friendly and more diversion-able.

Yes, I know there are buses, cabs, Uber and Gett, but sarah decided that a rest and repack day would be more beneficial. So that was today.

Went for a wander nearby, and found a tiny Malaysian restaurant a few blocks away. Nice. Otherwise nothing of note.

Sorry

Ho Ho Ho what a day

Saturday August 31

Today was Hop On Hop Off day.

There are four HOHO routes in London, with the Big Bus company. One of them doesn’t interest us, so we’ll tackle the other three. I was originally going to use HOHO to get to many of the places we wanted to see with the London Pass. I quickly realised that timings would be completely uncontrollable. We once got stuck on a HOHO bus on the other side of Dubai as the sun was going down. This was just due to bad traffic, and they had to abandon about a third of the tour, and get us back to town. Unfortunately, one of the places on Sarah’s bucket list was at the wrong end of that tour.

This time there are only two things on the list. St Paul’s Cathedral and Harrods. Sounds easy enough. Our hotel is on the blue route, so is Harrods. St. Paul’s is on the red route, and the orange route has a few things we’d like to drive past.

So the plan is to kick off on the blue route, and where they all meet up at Marble Arch we would change onto whichever colour is waiting. So we end up on the orange route, and check out a few spots, before it all starts to unravel. Remember somewhere in Ireland where we couldn’t get into the middle of one town because of the alphabet parade? We it’s Groundhog Day, folks.

The peasants are revolting! There are thousands of people protesting against the Prorogation of government. Seriously? They really need to do a test before they let people into the protest area. Do you even know what prorogation fucking means? Of course not. Fuck off home and watch Emmerdale and the Kardashians, you muppets.

The result for transport around the city is chaos. Our tour starts getting diverted. Maybe halfway through, they end up at a random stop and say if you’re going to St. Paul’s, the Red bus is behind us. Alright let’s do that. Who knows when we’ll get another chance to catch blue again today.

So we’re now on red. A few stops later and we arrived at St. Paul’s. We head off into there to tick that one off.























There are three things I’ll say about St. Paul’s.
First, it is wider than Westminster Abbey, so feel a lot more spacious.
Second, there really isn’t much in the way of Sponsor’s Alleys. This definitely helps toward the spacious feeling above.
Third, the colour scheme is really beautiful. I love the colours on the ceilings. What have I said about choosing what attracts my attention? Huh? Yes, and i am fully aware that I am colour blind. Move on, people.
















We also sat in on a service in the church as well. Ticked another box for Sarah.

The crypt under the church covers probably the same footprint as the cathedral above. Pretty big. There are a chapel or three, bathrooms, a cafe and restaurant, and the obligatory souvenir shop.





We did lunch and headed back to catch the bus. I thought the Big Bus company was the biggest HOHO in London, but more than five ‘Original’ HOHO buses stopped while we waited for ours.
C’est la guerre.

Now the red line is supposed to go over to the Tower of London and then follow the Thames back to Westminster before crossing over to check out that side.

Think again, Princess.

Can’t get near Westminster. Can’t get over the river. After quite some time getting nowhere very slowly, the decision was made to head back towards Marble Arch. By now, most onboard have taken the advice to go by foot towards Westminster. We just wanted to get back on blue, for Harrods. So it’s a good call for us.

A few minutes waiting for blue, and we’re off to Harrods. Tick that box, Sarah.





She picked up a couple of things to prove we came here, then we’re off again.

It’s all a bit posh, really. I did see one thing, however, that I never expected to see. No surprise that they have their own brand of Nespresso coffee pods. Similarly priced to Nespresso pods.

Now I’ve told you the story of Kopi Luwak, right? That’s the coffee beans that have been through the digestive system of a wild cat called a civet in Indonesia. Yum. A cup of this shit costs about USD50 to the wanky dickwads with more dollars than sense. So posher-than-god Harrods sells Kopi Luwak to their well-heeled FOMO-addicts, and now they sell it in Nespresso pods. Priceless!!