I've been having one of those days...well one of those weeks really. Lots of contemplating, reminiscing, pondering. Not sure quite where it gets me though.
I was comparing the situation I'm in here in Malta to how I was in Southampton. On the face of it of course I'm better off, cheaper accomodation, higher wages, better weather. Ok, I'm living on a building site, but I was in the UK too. Ok, I have no long standing friends here, but I didn't in Hampshire either. But things are different...
I went up to Manchester on average about every 6 weeks. I nipped over to IOM 4 times in the 20 months I was living in Southampton. Friends came to visit me, Sarah and Caoimhe, Tara, 'The Boys'. There is little chance of any of that here. (especially the visits to IOM). Now I feel far more isolated than I ever did on the South Coast. Chatting to friends online actually feels like a necessity, rather than 'just for fun'. Perhaps this is why I've been having these bizarre dreams for the past few nights - dreaming about people I would never have thought would enter my subconscious. Perhaps I'm just missing friends in general.
It's funny that everyone I talk to tells me to 'get out and see the island'. Why? If I want to see what it looks like I can buy a cheap set of postcards. I don't remember anyone ever telling me to 'get out and see Southampton'. When I moved to IOM way back in 1996 I didn't 'go out and see the rock', I just ended up seeing it all by osmosis. In fact, I'm sure there are some areas in the middle of IOM I never did get to see, particularly as I spent the last few years over there without a car.
If I did spend time travelling around Malta, it would probably only serve to remind me I'm on my own. By locking myself away after work each day, I can make it feel like my life is no different than it's ever been. I have things to look forward to, but they are so far apart they feel like a lifetime away. I can't believe I've already booked to go back to IOM in May. MAY! 7 months away! Not 7 days, or 7 weeks, but 7 months!
Ok, be positive Geoff. You get to see some of your friends in Derby in a month, then meeting baby Emily for the first time a few days after that. Then it's Christmas....
...I wonder if they do microwave Christmas meals for one in the supermarket?...
November 08, 2009
November 02, 2009
To Sleep Perchance to Dream II
Part one was over 18 months ago. Don't panic, you don't have to go back and read it to make sense of this one.
Well, I'll rephrase that. If you go back and read part one, it won't help you make sense of this entry.
For the last two nights I've experimented with not playing a movie on my laptop to help me sleep. It's a habit I've got into for years now, the so called 'white noise' effect. Perhaps it's coincience, but for these past two nights where I haven't had background influence, I've had bizarre dreams, both of which I can recall vividly.
On Saturday night I was on University Challenge with Jeremy Paxman asking the questions. The rest of my team were people I used to go to school with, people I probably haven't thought about for over 20 years (although one of them has just linked up with me on Facebook so perhaps that's why he featured). There was an opposing team there, but I couldn't see their faces. Mr Paxman seemed to ask every question directly to us, rather than to both teams, and I remember there was a big window behind him, overlooking a seafront - think it was similar to Dougals Bay in the IOM.
One question that sticks out is the 'music round'. He groaned as he asked us to 'name the composer of the following arias' but then he played the theme music from Mission Impossible.
Anyone want to psychoanaylse that?
Last night the people in my dream were all from my casino days in IOM. I still seemed to be working for a casino, but it was in Streford Arndale shopping centre near my home in Manchester (there isn't really a casino in there). The casino was also open fronted, no doors and I don't even remember there being any gaming tables either. It felt more like a bookmakers, with a counter towards the back. At one point I remember I was working my last shift before leaving the company but I was given a new uniform and sent home to try it on. I remember protesting that it was pointless as I was leaving, but I was sent home anyway. The new uniform had a bold Scottish tartan on the front, but with a lot of dark blue. I went back to 'work' in it, but seemed to be over 7 hours late, and no one cared...
...think I might stick to the white noise in future. It's less terrifying.
Well, I'll rephrase that. If you go back and read part one, it won't help you make sense of this entry.
For the last two nights I've experimented with not playing a movie on my laptop to help me sleep. It's a habit I've got into for years now, the so called 'white noise' effect. Perhaps it's coincience, but for these past two nights where I haven't had background influence, I've had bizarre dreams, both of which I can recall vividly.
On Saturday night I was on University Challenge with Jeremy Paxman asking the questions. The rest of my team were people I used to go to school with, people I probably haven't thought about for over 20 years (although one of them has just linked up with me on Facebook so perhaps that's why he featured). There was an opposing team there, but I couldn't see their faces. Mr Paxman seemed to ask every question directly to us, rather than to both teams, and I remember there was a big window behind him, overlooking a seafront - think it was similar to Dougals Bay in the IOM.
One question that sticks out is the 'music round'. He groaned as he asked us to 'name the composer of the following arias' but then he played the theme music from Mission Impossible.
Anyone want to psychoanaylse that?
Last night the people in my dream were all from my casino days in IOM. I still seemed to be working for a casino, but it was in Streford Arndale shopping centre near my home in Manchester (there isn't really a casino in there). The casino was also open fronted, no doors and I don't even remember there being any gaming tables either. It felt more like a bookmakers, with a counter towards the back. At one point I remember I was working my last shift before leaving the company but I was given a new uniform and sent home to try it on. I remember protesting that it was pointless as I was leaving, but I was sent home anyway. The new uniform had a bold Scottish tartan on the front, but with a lot of dark blue. I went back to 'work' in it, but seemed to be over 7 hours late, and no one cared...
...think I might stick to the white noise in future. It's less terrifying.
November 01, 2009
Auf Wiedersehen Pet
Just thought I'd use a German phrase as I do work for a German company, but it's the TV show I'm referring to. More importantly, the fact it was set on building sites.
One of the first things you might notice when you arrive in Malta, and take any kind of journey in a vehicle is the amount of construction sites you'll see. Not necessarily with the roadworks that you associate with them in the UK, but construction workers erecting new blocks of flats where-ever there is a spare acre or two of land. The skyline at any given point will always contain a handful of cranes, and if you step outside during the hours of daylight, you won't fail to hear the sound of a drill or cement mixer. Perhaps you're wondering why I'm mentioning this...
Sliema (the area I live in) is seen as one of the main tourist magnets. It combines all the usual necessities for the tourist trade; bars, shops, restaurants, and the launching docks for almost all the tourist ferry trips. It also boasts at least 6 different construction sites that I can think of (just off the top of my head). There are two at the end of my street, and now one directly opposite me. Sitting out on my balcony is no longer the pleasurable experience it could have been as it is now accompanied by a crane towering over me and the lovely sound of hammers and drills. I thought I left this behind in Southampton!
To cap it all, I now find out my local pub has been reclaimed by the lease holder and all the staff have been given notice. The reason? The owner plans on turning it into luxury flats!
There is a strange edge to this though. Talking to a few locals, it seems Malta has over 50,000 empty flats right now. I seem to remember the Isle of Man going through a similar transistion, Douglas sea-front became awash with flats, but no one seemed to know who was expected to buy them.
What all this means for me is I am paying a premium on my rent for the 'location' I'm in and for the 'luxury penthouse' but when you step back and view it, I'm paying to live in the middle of a series of building sites, and to have a balcony that is only of use after normal working hours. I can guarentee, unless something dramatic happens in the next 10 months I won't be renewing my lease, and I'll move to a different area for half the rent...
...and I can bet my landlord will find himself with a flat he's unable to lease out. After all, would you choose a penthouse to live in if it was overlooked by a crane and had constant noise 12 hours a day?
One of the first things you might notice when you arrive in Malta, and take any kind of journey in a vehicle is the amount of construction sites you'll see. Not necessarily with the roadworks that you associate with them in the UK, but construction workers erecting new blocks of flats where-ever there is a spare acre or two of land. The skyline at any given point will always contain a handful of cranes, and if you step outside during the hours of daylight, you won't fail to hear the sound of a drill or cement mixer. Perhaps you're wondering why I'm mentioning this...
Sliema (the area I live in) is seen as one of the main tourist magnets. It combines all the usual necessities for the tourist trade; bars, shops, restaurants, and the launching docks for almost all the tourist ferry trips. It also boasts at least 6 different construction sites that I can think of (just off the top of my head). There are two at the end of my street, and now one directly opposite me. Sitting out on my balcony is no longer the pleasurable experience it could have been as it is now accompanied by a crane towering over me and the lovely sound of hammers and drills. I thought I left this behind in Southampton!
To cap it all, I now find out my local pub has been reclaimed by the lease holder and all the staff have been given notice. The reason? The owner plans on turning it into luxury flats!
There is a strange edge to this though. Talking to a few locals, it seems Malta has over 50,000 empty flats right now. I seem to remember the Isle of Man going through a similar transistion, Douglas sea-front became awash with flats, but no one seemed to know who was expected to buy them.
What all this means for me is I am paying a premium on my rent for the 'location' I'm in and for the 'luxury penthouse' but when you step back and view it, I'm paying to live in the middle of a series of building sites, and to have a balcony that is only of use after normal working hours. I can guarentee, unless something dramatic happens in the next 10 months I won't be renewing my lease, and I'll move to a different area for half the rent...
...and I can bet my landlord will find himself with a flat he's unable to lease out. After all, would you choose a penthouse to live in if it was overlooked by a crane and had constant noise 12 hours a day?
October 30, 2009
Holy Grail of the Kitchen Part IV (Additional)
Hurrah! Told you I could do it!
I got in from work last night at about 10.30pm. I knew the pancake mix needed to be used as soon as possible, but when I took the container out of the fridge and removed the lid, it was like looking at solid putty. I was torn between trying to rescue it, or give it up as a lost cause, but decided to head towards 'rescue'. After all, this was a learning experience, and if I could make it work with what was left, I knew what to do if I ever dared try it again in the future.
My big dilema was how to make it more liquified. I knew I'd already added more than the recommended 400ml of milk, but except for egg, that was the only liquid in it. I went for broke and chucked in another big splosh of the dairy juice, replaced the lid and shook vigourously. When I re-opened it, what I had was what I had dreamed of originally - a runny substance, that poured easily, and smelt like pancake mix.
First attempt with the new mixture. Tiny drop of oil in the non-stick pan, brought up to heat, mixture poured in.....and it moved around easily, a thin coating of pancake in seconds. a tiny pause then over it flips with a spatula. Another short pause and I can toss it over and over again to my hearts desire. Onto a plate, sprinkle of sugar and lemon juice, rolled up and on to the next.
Number 2. Exactly the same. Perfect colouring, even texture, we have a double success.
In total I made 4, each one rolled with sugar and lemon and then the ultimate test. Taste.
Nothing to worry about, they tasted exactly as they should. It was Shrove Tuesday all over again (although I think the last time I had pancakes on Shrove Tuesday would have been nearly 14 years ago).
So now I know. If I use that particular pancake mix again, I can follow the instructions if I want 'Scotch' style pancakes, but if I want 'Shrove Tuesday' pancakes.....
..add twice as much milk.
I got in from work last night at about 10.30pm. I knew the pancake mix needed to be used as soon as possible, but when I took the container out of the fridge and removed the lid, it was like looking at solid putty. I was torn between trying to rescue it, or give it up as a lost cause, but decided to head towards 'rescue'. After all, this was a learning experience, and if I could make it work with what was left, I knew what to do if I ever dared try it again in the future.
My big dilema was how to make it more liquified. I knew I'd already added more than the recommended 400ml of milk, but except for egg, that was the only liquid in it. I went for broke and chucked in another big splosh of the dairy juice, replaced the lid and shook vigourously. When I re-opened it, what I had was what I had dreamed of originally - a runny substance, that poured easily, and smelt like pancake mix.
First attempt with the new mixture. Tiny drop of oil in the non-stick pan, brought up to heat, mixture poured in.....and it moved around easily, a thin coating of pancake in seconds. a tiny pause then over it flips with a spatula. Another short pause and I can toss it over and over again to my hearts desire. Onto a plate, sprinkle of sugar and lemon juice, rolled up and on to the next.
Number 2. Exactly the same. Perfect colouring, even texture, we have a double success.
In total I made 4, each one rolled with sugar and lemon and then the ultimate test. Taste.
Nothing to worry about, they tasted exactly as they should. It was Shrove Tuesday all over again (although I think the last time I had pancakes on Shrove Tuesday would have been nearly 14 years ago).
So now I know. If I use that particular pancake mix again, I can follow the instructions if I want 'Scotch' style pancakes, but if I want 'Shrove Tuesday' pancakes.....
..add twice as much milk.
October 29, 2009
Holy Grail of the Kitchen Part IV
Pancakes. You know, those things that everyone enjoys just before Easter. I've made them before, and very successfully,but this time I was going to have to do it in a foreign country...
It's true, I have made pancakes before when I was married, and they were all exactly as they should be. Thin, lightly cooked, easily tossed etc. I knew it wasn't a difficult task. This time however, I was going to have to try it with a 'ready mix' and guessing at the amount of milk required.
Despite the fact the kitchen I have is equipped with more pots and pans than the restaurant of the London Hilton, The one thing I was missing was any kind of measuring tool. No scales, no jug, nothing. When the ready pancake mix said 'add two eggs and 400ml of milk' I'm going to have to do my best to work out what 400ml of dairy juice actually looks like.
A bit of Mathematics helped me out though. Take a litre carton of milk and pour it into two pint glasses until they are both level (thus making them 500ml each). Take a gulp out of one of them and hey presto you have 400ml of milk!
It wasn't just a weighing scales my kitchen lacked though, I didn't have a mixing bowl. No matter, I can use a 'Tupperware' bowl with a sealable lid. (That bit wasn't a problem, it did prove to be a suitable mising vessle)
I added the mix, the two eggs, the '400ml' of milk and stirred and mixed until my arm felt like it was going to drop off. What was I left with? A mixture so thick I could stand my spoon up in it. I could even turn the container upside down without it falling out. So I added a bit more milk...
..then a bit more...
...then a bit more...
It still had the texture of treacle, but it was starting to thin out a bit, so I decided to try an experimental pancake. I heated the tiniest amount of oil in my frying pan, waited till it was hot enough, then poured in a measure of the pancake mix...
Well, I say 'pour', it was more of a 'gloop' really. It hit the pan in the middle and just stayed there. I tried moving it around to thin it out and make the pancake bigger, but it refused to move. Granted though, I turned it over and it was a lovely golden brown, and when the other side cooked, I did have quite a nice looking 'Scotch Pancake' (I hope you all know what I mean by that).
Ok, next attempt. No oil, less heat. More mixture poured in, and yes! it moves around a bit faster! But not fast enough. Now I have something that resembles a paint splodge on a piece of paper. Little rivers of pancake mix running away from a central hub. Then again, flip it over and cook the other side, and once again it tasted lovely.
Last attempt for the night. More milk added to thin out the mix. Less heat and hey presto we have a pancake! Pours easily to the edges, cooks, to a light golden brown, can be flipped or tossed and tastes perfect. Chances are though I've added nearly a litre of milk by now, more than twice the required '400ml' but hey, who cares! I'm making pancakes!
But then we come to the other side of pancake making. The mess. There are drips, blobs, globules, smears of solid pancake mix everywhere! It has the texture of wallpaper paste when it starts to set and I'm scared it's now blocking up my sink drain. I still have half a tub of mix stored for later, but drips down the side of the box mean I have blobs of paste in my fridge too. I can't get rid of it! Reminds me of a fairy tale from when I was a child...
...The magic porridge pot.
It's true, I have made pancakes before when I was married, and they were all exactly as they should be. Thin, lightly cooked, easily tossed etc. I knew it wasn't a difficult task. This time however, I was going to have to try it with a 'ready mix' and guessing at the amount of milk required.
Despite the fact the kitchen I have is equipped with more pots and pans than the restaurant of the London Hilton, The one thing I was missing was any kind of measuring tool. No scales, no jug, nothing. When the ready pancake mix said 'add two eggs and 400ml of milk' I'm going to have to do my best to work out what 400ml of dairy juice actually looks like.
A bit of Mathematics helped me out though. Take a litre carton of milk and pour it into two pint glasses until they are both level (thus making them 500ml each). Take a gulp out of one of them and hey presto you have 400ml of milk!
It wasn't just a weighing scales my kitchen lacked though, I didn't have a mixing bowl. No matter, I can use a 'Tupperware' bowl with a sealable lid. (That bit wasn't a problem, it did prove to be a suitable mising vessle)
I added the mix, the two eggs, the '400ml' of milk and stirred and mixed until my arm felt like it was going to drop off. What was I left with? A mixture so thick I could stand my spoon up in it. I could even turn the container upside down without it falling out. So I added a bit more milk...
..then a bit more...
...then a bit more...
It still had the texture of treacle, but it was starting to thin out a bit, so I decided to try an experimental pancake. I heated the tiniest amount of oil in my frying pan, waited till it was hot enough, then poured in a measure of the pancake mix...
Well, I say 'pour', it was more of a 'gloop' really. It hit the pan in the middle and just stayed there. I tried moving it around to thin it out and make the pancake bigger, but it refused to move. Granted though, I turned it over and it was a lovely golden brown, and when the other side cooked, I did have quite a nice looking 'Scotch Pancake' (I hope you all know what I mean by that).
Ok, next attempt. No oil, less heat. More mixture poured in, and yes! it moves around a bit faster! But not fast enough. Now I have something that resembles a paint splodge on a piece of paper. Little rivers of pancake mix running away from a central hub. Then again, flip it over and cook the other side, and once again it tasted lovely.
Last attempt for the night. More milk added to thin out the mix. Less heat and hey presto we have a pancake! Pours easily to the edges, cooks, to a light golden brown, can be flipped or tossed and tastes perfect. Chances are though I've added nearly a litre of milk by now, more than twice the required '400ml' but hey, who cares! I'm making pancakes!
But then we come to the other side of pancake making. The mess. There are drips, blobs, globules, smears of solid pancake mix everywhere! It has the texture of wallpaper paste when it starts to set and I'm scared it's now blocking up my sink drain. I still have half a tub of mix stored for later, but drips down the side of the box mean I have blobs of paste in my fridge too. I can't get rid of it! Reminds me of a fairy tale from when I was a child...
...The magic porridge pot.
October 22, 2009
General Maltese Update
Just thought I'd check in with you all, let you know what's happening and upcoming in the world of Geoff at the moment.
Well firstly the weather stil can't decide what to do. One day I'm going to work in shorts and t-shirt and finding myself still feeling decidely hot, but then 8 hours later when it's time to travel home again I'm wishing I'd packed my water-proofs and thermal undies. The worst weather always seems to be in the night though, which helps (but not with trying to get a good night's sleep of course)
Which brings us on to sleep - or lack of it. I've been on a string of late shifts recently, but my body clock is still waking me at 5 or 6am everyday. 5 days off in a row coming up though, so perhaps a chance to relax and catch up on a bit of napping.
I've taken up a new hobby too. It's free, but might get me arrested one day (or beaten up at the very least). It's photographing Maltese number plates. Yes I know that's sad, but it becomes quite addictive looking out for amusing ones. All plates over here are 3 letters and 3 digits, and it would seem most people get to choose the combination they want (assuming it isn't already registered). This of course leads to lots of 'names' and 'words' being used. If I get enough I might be able to turn them into a complete sentence! Snapping a pic of the front of parked cars though has caused a few heads to turn...one of these days the vehicle owner is probably going to catch me at it!
..and talking of cars, last night as I waited in the dark for my bus home, I heard a screech of brakes. Just in front of the stop is a pedestrian crossing and a young driver had overshot the white line as the lights turned to red. He needn't have worried, the pedestrian who had pressed the button had crossed long before the driver turned up anyway. For some reason though, he decided to reverse. Again for no reason, he decided to reverse in two stages. Just when you thought he'd gone back far enough, he shot back another three feet....
...right into the front of the police car waiting behind him. The distinct sound of breaking tail-light was quickly followed by the officer in the passenger seat leaping out of his car and dragging the young driver out of his. What followed was like a scene out of NYPD Blue - the driver spread over his own bonnet, the contents of his pockets emptied onto the roof. I had been warned before that police over here have no sense of humour and can be quite brutal - I can see what they mean.
Think that about wraps up my life as I know it. Still cooking (had a HUGE rib-eye steak for lunch yesterday with a bit of veg, salad and new potatoes. photo available if required). Having my first trial of Maltese post as I've ordered a cheap DVD to be delivered to the office address. I can see how long it takes, and if it seems safe before ordering any others. If it never arrives, it's a lesson learnt and it wasn't expensive anyway.
..oh and I finally tracked down some lightbulbs in a DIY shop near work. over 8 Euros each though! If I decide to change apartments after 12 months when this lease runs out...
....I'm taking my bulbs with me!
Well firstly the weather stil can't decide what to do. One day I'm going to work in shorts and t-shirt and finding myself still feeling decidely hot, but then 8 hours later when it's time to travel home again I'm wishing I'd packed my water-proofs and thermal undies. The worst weather always seems to be in the night though, which helps (but not with trying to get a good night's sleep of course)
Which brings us on to sleep - or lack of it. I've been on a string of late shifts recently, but my body clock is still waking me at 5 or 6am everyday. 5 days off in a row coming up though, so perhaps a chance to relax and catch up on a bit of napping.
I've taken up a new hobby too. It's free, but might get me arrested one day (or beaten up at the very least). It's photographing Maltese number plates. Yes I know that's sad, but it becomes quite addictive looking out for amusing ones. All plates over here are 3 letters and 3 digits, and it would seem most people get to choose the combination they want (assuming it isn't already registered). This of course leads to lots of 'names' and 'words' being used. If I get enough I might be able to turn them into a complete sentence! Snapping a pic of the front of parked cars though has caused a few heads to turn...one of these days the vehicle owner is probably going to catch me at it!
..and talking of cars, last night as I waited in the dark for my bus home, I heard a screech of brakes. Just in front of the stop is a pedestrian crossing and a young driver had overshot the white line as the lights turned to red. He needn't have worried, the pedestrian who had pressed the button had crossed long before the driver turned up anyway. For some reason though, he decided to reverse. Again for no reason, he decided to reverse in two stages. Just when you thought he'd gone back far enough, he shot back another three feet....
...right into the front of the police car waiting behind him. The distinct sound of breaking tail-light was quickly followed by the officer in the passenger seat leaping out of his car and dragging the young driver out of his. What followed was like a scene out of NYPD Blue - the driver spread over his own bonnet, the contents of his pockets emptied onto the roof. I had been warned before that police over here have no sense of humour and can be quite brutal - I can see what they mean.
Think that about wraps up my life as I know it. Still cooking (had a HUGE rib-eye steak for lunch yesterday with a bit of veg, salad and new potatoes. photo available if required). Having my first trial of Maltese post as I've ordered a cheap DVD to be delivered to the office address. I can see how long it takes, and if it seems safe before ordering any others. If it never arrives, it's a lesson learnt and it wasn't expensive anyway.
..oh and I finally tracked down some lightbulbs in a DIY shop near work. over 8 Euros each though! If I decide to change apartments after 12 months when this lease runs out...
....I'm taking my bulbs with me!
October 17, 2009
Holy Grail of the Kitchen Part III (Again)
Look! I had to show you this! It's been two successes in a row, and this time it's captured on camera.
I think the main reason for the success has to be given to the non-stick frying pan. I guess in the past I've always relied on oil to stop the egg from sticking, but you can't beat proper non-stick for making it easy to lif the omellette out of the pan to fold it over.
This one is bacon and cheese. (I cooked the bacon whilst the oven chips were cooking, chopped it up and mixed the bits in with a small handful of grated cheese).
See, I can eat sensibly when I put my mind to it :D
p.s. The rest of the plate is carrot, swede and peas with a nob of Flora light (that hasn't melted yet) A bit of iceberg lettuce and a few rustic oven chips.
Agatha Christie: The Case of The Missing Lightbulbs...Again!
Well in actual fact no lightbulbs have technically disappeared this time, so there is no need to call in Miss Marple to investigate...
...I just can't find a shop that sells them!
So far two bulbs have gone in the apartment. Both of them are in the small corridor between the lounge and bedrooms, so neither of them are particularly vital. When the second one blew though, I decided to add lightbulbs to my on going shopping list so that I could pick up a few spares in readiness for a third one dying on me. So far, I've been unable to buy one.
First port of call was obviously my regular supermarket, Scotts. I was up and down the aisles desperately looking for them. I tried the hardware section with the brooms and mops. Nothing. I tried the cleaning section with the Jay-cloths and sprays. Nothing. I tried the kitchen section with the frying pans and spatulas. Nothing. In the end I gave in and asked an assistant. With a smile and a spring in his step he led me to the furthest corner of the supermarket (in the fruit and veg section) and pointed to one shelf at the same height as my ankles. "there you are sir" he said cheerily, pointing at a small selection of bulbs.
Well yes, they were lightbulbs, and there were a mixture of bayonette and screw fittings, but they were all 'lamp' bulbs. The smaller sized lights. There were none that were the right size for my needs.
Next day, coming to work, I pass a small 'corner shop'. It's not actually on a corner, but you know what I mean. If we were in Doncaster right now it'd be called 'Awkrights' and there would be a stuttering man behind the counter giving his assistant a clip round the ear. This shops sells everything. Last thing I got from here was a triple pack of mosquito spray.....
...side note. The mosquito spray I use is called PIFF PAFF. The instructions for use on the back state: Directions for use: Shake well and spray on insect for 2-3 seconds for instant kill. For flying insects spray in the air for 3-4 seconds. Do they expect the mosquito to stay motionless while I'm spraying it for 2-3 seconds? In reality you end up using half a can just to eliminate one bug!
...back to the shop. They may sell fly spray, but once again, no lightbulbs. Has someone cornered the market in them? Is someone panic buying them all and is planning on selling them for a profit when the demand hits epidemic proportions?....
...I'll let you know if I ever find any. Hopefully before my flat is plunged into darkness forever.
...I just can't find a shop that sells them!
So far two bulbs have gone in the apartment. Both of them are in the small corridor between the lounge and bedrooms, so neither of them are particularly vital. When the second one blew though, I decided to add lightbulbs to my on going shopping list so that I could pick up a few spares in readiness for a third one dying on me. So far, I've been unable to buy one.
First port of call was obviously my regular supermarket, Scotts. I was up and down the aisles desperately looking for them. I tried the hardware section with the brooms and mops. Nothing. I tried the cleaning section with the Jay-cloths and sprays. Nothing. I tried the kitchen section with the frying pans and spatulas. Nothing. In the end I gave in and asked an assistant. With a smile and a spring in his step he led me to the furthest corner of the supermarket (in the fruit and veg section) and pointed to one shelf at the same height as my ankles. "there you are sir" he said cheerily, pointing at a small selection of bulbs.
Well yes, they were lightbulbs, and there were a mixture of bayonette and screw fittings, but they were all 'lamp' bulbs. The smaller sized lights. There were none that were the right size for my needs.
Next day, coming to work, I pass a small 'corner shop'. It's not actually on a corner, but you know what I mean. If we were in Doncaster right now it'd be called 'Awkrights' and there would be a stuttering man behind the counter giving his assistant a clip round the ear. This shops sells everything. Last thing I got from here was a triple pack of mosquito spray.....
...side note. The mosquito spray I use is called PIFF PAFF. The instructions for use on the back state: Directions for use: Shake well and spray on insect for 2-3 seconds for instant kill. For flying insects spray in the air for 3-4 seconds. Do they expect the mosquito to stay motionless while I'm spraying it for 2-3 seconds? In reality you end up using half a can just to eliminate one bug!
...back to the shop. They may sell fly spray, but once again, no lightbulbs. Has someone cornered the market in them? Is someone panic buying them all and is planning on selling them for a profit when the demand hits epidemic proportions?....
...I'll let you know if I ever find any. Hopefully before my flat is plunged into darkness forever.
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