The silly emails companies send

I’m not one to discuss work topics, but this blog does advertise itself as “Britlog: work, life, travel” so how can I lie to my viewing public?

For my first post under the work category, an email:

Dear all

please see the task below which is to be completed by all staff by next Tuesday.

Please send your responses to me. If for any reason you are unable to
meet the deadline then please speak to me beforehand.

Task

1. Please write a brief summary of your role and responsibilities

2. Please note who your line manager is, if you are not sure then please
state that

Regards

XXX

precious.
And such a boost to moral.

My translation:

Dear all, please tell us what you do, because he have no bloody clue.
Regards,
Incompetent management

Welcome to the 21st Century, Cambridge!

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It looks like Cambridge is installing ticket barriers at the rail station. I’ve noticed the same at the “annex train shed” at King’s Cross so I guess I’ll have to get used to it. It’s going to be comical to see all the people trying to get their bicycles past these when they go into operation. I can’t wait! 🙂

Happy birthday Adrienne!

I may still be recovering from the food poisoning I picked up in Latvia yesterday, but the trip down to Clapham is worth it to celebrate with you. At least I can keep my oj down today! Cheers!
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Love, LOVE that Porter Airlines

I flew them once to ottawa just over a year ago. And one year later they are still amazing. Still serving juice in an actual glass, still serving a good meal, and still producing their amazing in flight mag (designed by the creator of Wallpaper magazine). Leather seats, loads of leg room… They just don’t do crap! It is such a joy to check in only 25 minutes prior to departure.
Any Brits reading this, if you’re visiting in Toronto and have a hankering for montreal, ottawa or Halifax I strongly recommend you give it a go.
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Mips’ big day out

A few days late… but Sunday morning we decide to let Mips out to explore our English garden (translation little cubicle of cement with some overgrown vines out back). One of us forgets to lock the door and next thing we know, he’s off exploring the neighbouring cubicles:

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It took a lot of persuasions but Jason manages to drag his ass back into the house. Anyway, mediocre cat story aside, I thought the reader(s) of this blog might appreciate seeing a shot of the back of our house and the random smattering of brick walls that divide up the space:

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St pancras international

Less than 3 days to go and King’s Cross will be home to the new euro star station. I decided to take a quick peek before opening day on Wednesday. Seems I’m not the only tourist. People are already snapping photos.
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Safety first!

It’s a well known fact that years of sketchiness has resulted in kings cross becoming home to the most CCTV units per capita in all of London.
And as you can see we have 2 right outside our house. It’s nice to pull our curtains open in the morning and taken that nice urban view of a maze of electrical cables and CCTV cameras. …. And not a patch of green in sight!

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Guy Fox Day Fireworks

This weekend is “fireworks day” in the UK. In Canada we reserve the privilege of lighting stuff on fire for some old hag’s birthday; here in the UK they use fireworks to celebrate terrorism.

The day is called Guy Fawkes Day (not to be confused with Gay Fox day, the celebration of the end of persecution of homosexual vulpini). Guy Fawkes was in a group of Roman Catholics who attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament and kill King James I on the 5th of November of 1605. Basically they celebrate that a religious fundamentalist tried to kill a bunch innocent people – and it doesn’t seem clear that they’re celebrating that he got caught or that he was trying to blow up parliament. But regardless of the motives, it’s always good to see some greenhouse-gas-emitting explosions on a warm Saturday night.

Sylvia was out of town tonight so I attended the festivities myself by attending the free fireworks display in Blackheath. There were a hell of a lot of people out and the town was packed with police keeping people moving:

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The fireworks show was quite impressive. Here are a few of the (many) pictures I took with a tripod:

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Here’s a good picture of the big finale:

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Several people had sparklers out:

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The show was only about an hour long, and I spent twice that time getting there and back, but it was still an enjoyable outing. Let’s hear it for the war on terror!

Drunks on the tube

Friday night, district line. 1 Ginger and 2 blonds and 2 bottles of rum bacardi breezer.
I’m not sure I like this public drinking thing any more. At first I thought it was quite liberating …. But now? It’s quite annoying. God they are on quite the piss up.
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A Very Happy Hallowe’en

I’m sitting at home all alone this Hallowe’en; Sylvia has been very busy with a project at work. Hallowe’en isn’t taken nearly as seriously here in the UK as it is back in Canada – here’s it’s pretty much just a kid’s holiday (though I did see a few students dressed up on my ride through Cambridge today). Now that we’re living in a house I have to hide inside to keep the kids away. I’m shocked that kids actually trick-or-treat around the King’s Cross area; I guess prostitutes and drug dealers have kids too.

But this is a special Hallowe’en for me tonight. Want to hear a really scary story? Sylvia and I have been sleeping on the floor (and more recently an air matress) for the past 3 weeks! Yep, since we moved into the new unfurnished house we’ve had no place to sleep! This terrible state of affairs came to a close today after our new mattress was delivered by Dreams. Here she is:

New Bed

I cannot tell you how excited I am. We decided to go all out: a King-size (or as they say here, “Super King”) mattress with 6,000 luxurious pocket springs and a sweet, sweet layer of memory foam on top. That’s what I like to hear. They even provided it in a “split” mattress that zips two smallers mattresses together to fit it up the small stairway in our London home. That’s the miracles of modern mattress technology; is there anything they can’t do?

It’s going to feel soooooo good tonight. This is the best Hallowe’en ever.

Must resist …

Lately I have been tempted to use my free newspaper as a fly swatter for the tourists who get in my way. Move! And stop leaving that giant suitcase in the (sidewalk, escalator, platform) such that I can’t get past.
Such is life when you commutte between 2 out of London’s 4 most-visited-by-tourists train stations.
Bonus points if you can name all 4.
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The commuter train to Cambridge

In a very last minute decision to dash up to Cambridge to meet Jason for dinner and drinks, I find my self on a commuter train. Here I am thinking the tube is bad! You probably can’t see in this photo but people are sitting in the aisles while others stand over them. I chatted with one woman beside me who tells me that most people don’t even buy tickets because as a regular commuter you know it’s always this bad, and there is no way a ticket collector could ever make it down the aisle to spot check tickets. Nice. So due to the crowds this service desperately needs more trains on it, but due to the crowds people aren’t paying the money to fund more trains.
At least dinner with Jason’s coworkers was absolutely delicious. Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device

Rugby world cup

The mood was quite electric at the start, but as reality sinks in … The pub is quiet. Congrats to south Africa.
Ps. Thanks for a boring as sin game.
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Upgrades to the Scotsman!

The Flying Scotsman made some changes this weekend: by adding fancy new awnings for the smokers! It’s frightening because it makes the place look almost respectable. But don’t be fooled by the gloss – you’ll know as soon as you step in that there’s nothing respectable about the Flying Scotsman.

Bonne Fete a Moi

Today is my birthday, and I continued our four year tradition of “having a glass of scotch that has been aged in a cask longer than I’ve been alive” with a 35 year old Dalwhinnie. This tradition certainly gets more expensive after a nice round number like 30.
Excuse the crappy photo.

Friday Night is Roller Disco!

What happens when you take a bunch of British teenagers, dress them up in what they think is 80s clothing (having no living memory of it), feed them alcohol, give them roller skates, and put them all into a small club? If you guessed a recipe for disaster, your right! Welcome to Roller Disco at King’s Cross.

Kasia was in town and we wanted to try something new for her only Friday in town. Sylvia suggested Roller Disco and the plans were in place. I actually used to go roller skating in the 80s, so I had dreams of revisiting my childhood with a big skating rink with Belinda Carlile replaced with banging house music. Sylvia had similar aspirations; probably related to the days she used to ice skate like a champion (though not dressed as a Treasure Troll). Needless to say it wasn’t quite what we expected.
First of all, there was mass disorganisation. And trust me, if there’s one thing that pisses Sylvia off the most it’s disorganisation. “Why the hell don’t they have a different queue for skate pick up and returns? If I ran this place ….” Combine that chaos with sweaty drunken people on roller skates. Good times! It was a great show: as soon as one drunkard fell over the rest fell like bowling pins:

The most difficult part for me is that it’s tough to get your grove on whilst on roller skates. Bottom line: great to do once for the experience but we won’t become roller regulars. My childhood memories will never be relived. Oh well, at least Jesus approves:

7 Things I Hate about Moving

1. Not being able to figure out new appliances.
Our slick stainless steal gas stove has been well loved. All the numbers and settings are rubbed out. How I managed to
cook a turkey on Monday I’ll never know, but cooking has become a retro experience. If the recipe says cook at 350F …
I cook in what feels like a hot oven when I stick my hand in to check.

2. Not being able to figure out new appliances, again.
After several hours of angry beeps from our washing machine Jason figured out the the cold water pipe connected to the machine had been shut off. Fun.

3. Getting screwed by moving companies and their supposed maximum prices

4. Trying to get the Post Office to forward our mail to the new address when postal workers are on strike and the post office is closed.

5. Not knowing where any of your stuff is. Problem is much worse when you have 3 floors to contend with.

6. Dodgy pipes that lead to leaking showers that lead to wires shorting out that lead to lots of sparking and arching that lead to small panic attacks, a mad (futile) dash to Tescos in search of a fire extinguisher and a quick call to the fire brigade.

7. Trying to find the cats after 2 trucks worth of firemen search the entire house for that illusive fusebox (in noisy boots I might add) and scare the ba-jesus out of them. Note, cats like to hide IN fireplaces.

8. Not having internet for almost a month while the internet muppets sort out how to hook us up again. Come on!

Well lets hope the new place is worth all this hassel.
At least this answers where Britlog has been lately.

Back to the grind

And back to the moaning about the tube. I missed my themeslink connection this morning and had to take the smouldering Victoria line. Maybe it.s a good thing, this is a shot of the districtcircle line platform I would have had to have been on.

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Ein Prosit! Ein Prosit! Der gemuetlichskeit!

Oktoberfest day 2 is in the Paulaner tent for us. We got here early enough to grab a table, and thankfully, unlike the first day, they serve beer right from the start. Everyone is standing for the band’s entrance:

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Sylvia is starting on her second litre and the band has started playing:

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These 15 year olds lucked out – their fake ID was accepted. Amazing:

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Ah Oktoberfest. Joy of joys.