Category Archives: UK

Back home. Again.

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City of Dundee Arms since 1996

Back in Dundee

The end of another working week in the Alps and I barely stopped. As it happened, things tailed off as I was tidying up on the Saturday so it looks like I timed things well.

Over the week, I spent a couple of nights based over at Belle Plagne in our “flagship” hotel. I have to say I was hugely impressed with the staff while I was there. Not just the way they treated me (great food!) but how they handled all the work and guests. From what I saw, I know I would be happy to holiday there. Well done, crew.

So in with delivering some supplies to a few resorts as I had to borrow one of the catering managers’ vans, what did I achieve? Off the top of my head:

Amongst a huge number of smaller jobs. The only outstanding thing when I left was Jo’s internet that was finally sorted a couple days later. I stepped through the set-up with her via Emilia on Skype acting as middleman.

I borrowed a seat on a coach taking guests back to Geneva and waited an age for my Edinburgh flight while trying to stay awake. Worst was the delay. Ten minutes when we boarded was no problem. But then we sat there for twenty. And were finally told that there would be a further 25 before we took off.

Why don’t they tell you things like this before you board so that you can call/SMS people at the other end to let them know? Once you’re on the plane, you’re not allowed to use your mobile!

Anyway…

Back in the UK and a ton of stuff to organise for the upcoming trip. It never stops!

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Iceland – Country 38

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Coat of arms of Iceland.

Coat of arms of Iceland

Or 39 if you’re including the UK. At least I think so. I hope I’m not losing count. I should make it to 42 by summer!

The short flight from Glasgow to Keflavik was uneventful and smooth, and when I landed I thought we’d gone round in a circle. It was dark and raining – although Iceland‘s currently warmer than Scotland!

It’s currently 3am and I’ve spent a good three hours catching up on my email so I’ll be quite brief. Keflavik Airport seems nice and is all polished and smart. I’ll try to get some pics of the outside when I return on Friday as it’s a nice building. The tourist info was open even though I got through customs at around 11pm. I do feel sorry for the people who lugged bottles of vodka all the way from Glasgow only to drop one on the floor of the luggage collection area. Oops.

I got the Flybus direct to the HI Hostel, but was overcharged. The airport website states that the Flybus will take you direct to various hotels (including the youth hostel) for free. This is not the case. After arriving at the hostel, I checked the prices on the posters here against what I’ve been charged and also had a look at  Reykjavik Excursions’ website (the company that run the bus).

Prices are:

One way airport to Reykjavik central bus station (or other way): 1500 ISK

Return ticket purchased in advance: 2700 ISK

One way to/from one of the hotels/hostel : 2000 ISK

Return to hotels/hostel: 3700 ISK

Now, I wanted to go to the hostel but till be returning from the main bus station. I explained this to the girl selling the tickets, asking if there was a return ticket that was cheaper. Because I was going to the hostel she sold me a 3700 ISK return… which is more expensive than buying two singles for the two separate stops (2000 + 1500 = 2500).

In addition, had I known there was an extra charge – which I was never told and the airport website says it’s free – I’d not have paid it. Instead I’d have hopped off at the BSI station and walked it. It’s only about 20 minutes on foot. Overall, I’ve been overcharges 700 ISK which is roughly £4 at current exchange rates. OK, not a fortune, but it’s the principle. I may try to find their office and complain tomorrow.

Enough whinging. The hostel here is lovely and the staff very warm and welcoming – full review on the Accommodation Guide. I’ve only seen my room in the dark so far, as I ditched my stuff before taking a quick walk to get some (expensive) munchies and then setting up to get online.

And here I’ve been sat for three hours. Oops.

Time for bed and hopefully I’ll know where I’m meeting my hosts for the next two nights in the morning.

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Silly season at home

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Little CuzI just realised it’s been almost 10 days since my last post so I better play catch-up!

First off, I’m over my cold. I pretty much shifted it by Christmas Day which was a good thing. I helped my little cousin put down the magic oats that led from the street to the front door so that Santa‘s reindeer would know how to find it. Then we made sure he had some decent tuck and a drink of milk for when he delivered the copious number of presents she was bound to get.

Her “absolute latest” bedtime of 10pm slipped to 11 until finally my aunt ordered her upstairs. “Bed! Now! And no more coming out of your room!”

Then the crying started. “What’s up?”

“You said to go to my bed and I did, and I’m scared I’ll wet it because I need the toilet and I’m not allowed out of my room in case Santa doesn’t come.”

She was allowed a pottie break and settled back down a little more hapily after that!

I was awoken at 6:50 on Christmas morning to a chorus (and two verses) of We Wish You A Merry Christmas before we all headed downstairs to watch a 7 ¹/² year old tear apart a small deciduous forest in pursuit of the gifts held within.

Awesome.

PoppyI then had to take pictures of her with just about everything she’d god. I’m glad we have digital cameras now, as I’d have run out of film otherwise. While they went to church for Mass, I very generously set up their new Wii. Once they came back, I taught the little one how to play the bowling game which she had told me she was rubbish at. She then hammered me at it. Twice.

My parents arrived around lunchtime and we had another present-opening ceremony before I hopped in the care and drove from Glasgow to Dundee to visit Leah and her family where I was fed and watered (and beered) and got more presents. Seems Santa had decided to scatter my presents over a variety of households this year. Leah’s mum attempted to kill me by passing off “mouldy” cheddar as “mature”. She claims it was an honest mistake as she’d made up my stocking before the best before date, but I have my doubts.

On Boxing Day we had some visitors over and I spent the day nibbling on munchies and getting progressively drunker. Somehow I drank almost an entire bottle of Famous Grouse and woke up the next morning with no hangover. There’s probably some scientific reason for this, but I’m putting it down to the fact I’m a Geordie.

Cheese of DEATH!I’d arranged to go to the football with Malkie and some friends of his, so I set off down to Dundee at lunchtime. Just enough time to catch up on my email then run to the pub to see the tail end of the Old Firm game before we walked to Tannadice for the Dundee United v Falkirk game. My first live football match in almost three years.

I lost Malkie and co as they headed for their season ticket seats, but ended up “attached” to a local who pointed me in the direction of the better “pay on the day” ones. £21 is about half what you pay for an English Premiership game these days, and I was sat on the top tier behind one of the goals for the duration of the match.

The Tangerines won 1-0, though Falkirk gave them a run for their money and the majority of the crowd went home happy. I was on furniture-building duty (who gets flat-pack furniture for Christmas? Really?) so headed back to the flat rather than the pub.

On the 28th, I arranged to meet Adam in town to watch the annual seasonal towelling by Liverpool. Lo and behold, over a rather nice Sunday roast in the Trades, we got hammered 1-5. Ah well. At least it was expected. I also picked up Guitar Hero III for my PS2 while we walked around the sales afterwards. Only it didn’t work. Argh.

Dundee Utd v FalkirkThat evening, we visited my folks where my little cousin was being spoiled rotten (again). Dinner was great, but by mid-evening Leah was absolutely burning up so we left relatively early. By the time I got her home she was definitely running a bonkers temperature as well as feeling dizzy.

Fortunately, by the next morning, the fever had broken and she was back to just feeling crappy. A definite improvement. I walked into town and swapped out my Guitar Hero package. Thankfully, the replacement works but I’ve not been able to play it as Leah’s been lying on the sofa watching crappy Christmas telly all day. The benefits of being ill!

Over the course of the last 10 days I’ve had a mixed bag of emails from work as well. A few genuine problems, some where I’ve wondered “didn’t you think before you bothered me?” and one or two where I wish I was back in France so I could slap someone. Generally it’s going well over there with only one serious issue I can’t deal with right now. Well, if they will drop a PC onto the floor…

Right, that’s about it. Just watching Jurassic Park III before crashing out. And hopefully dragging Leah to the docs in the morning for a quick check over. She’s been ill for 5 weeks now. That can’t be normal. Mind… neither is she 😉

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Back in Blighty

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Kicking off with a “thanks” to Janeice who spent a couple of hours of her day off driving me to Geneva Airport so that I didn’t have to get one of the transfer buses.

As ever the airport was heaving and expensive. I was starving, but after over 30 minutes in the queue at Burger King I had to give up and walk off otherwise I risked being late for my flight. I tried to pick up a drink from a shop, but the minimum spend was CHF5 and the bottle was only CHF2.80. No worries, I thought, I’ll get one on the other side of security.

I rattled through the long passport queue and breezed security and then shuddered to a halt at the convenience kiosk by gate 31. The self same bottle of juice was now CHF4.80. If anyone had any complaints before about the whole “no liquids through security” thing being an excuse to rip passengers off, I point the in the direction of Geneva Airport as proof of this. They should change the airport logo to a skull and crossbones.

Still, the flight was only 10 minutes late in departing and fairly smooth. I slept on and off until the high crosswinds at Edinburgh caused a few clenched butt-cheeks as we descended. Kudos to the pilot, though,who set the plan down as gently as I’ve ever had a landing despite the atmospheric conditions working against him.

My dad picked me up and we zoomed across the Forth Road Bridge as all the high-siders had been barred from crossing due to the winds. As a result we made it to Perth a lot sooner than we’d expected. Enough time to say “hello” to my mum, giggle at the two mad dogs, grab some stuff and head up to Leah’s in Dundee.

Now, I’ve spent the better part of 6 weeks in the French Alps. It’s been snowing, icy and generally sub-zero for most of it. I have not fallen once.

Within a dozen steps of the car as I walked out of the car park in Dundee, I was on my arse. Ouch. Somehow I also managed to pull a muscle in my shoulder when I went down. Don’t ask. As promised in another blog post elsewhere, Leah had hot juice and sympathy when I arrived loaded with slightly less cold than I had the day before. Still, I’m male – I can milk sympathy for all I’m worth.

Ah, back in Britain. High winds, lashing rain, and I’ve got a cold. Great stuff.

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Jetting to Geneva

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My mode of transport early on this Sunday morning was a little more comfy (little more as it was a budget flight) than Leah’s airborne jaunt the day before. She managed not to crash a training helicopter out near Aberdeen, which is always a good thing. Good for me as I’d have had to explain it to her mother. She was somewhat put out when the instructor asked her for her weight as she may have been a little too big for the dinky training ‘copter. However, she was fine – much as the chap who came after her who was so short they had to find him a booster cushion to sit on.

The next day, as usual, my dad kindly gave up a couple of hours’ sleep to drive me top Edinburgh Airport for the silly early departure. A good job I’d not opted for the Monday flight as that was two hours earlier and I don’t think he’d have been too pleased at having to get me there for 4:30am.

So just the usual at the airport and a couple of hours later I stepped out into the much warmer climes in Geneva. I was met by Maya, another Couchsurfer who was accommodating me for a night in exchange for some IT work. She’s an ex-journalist, speaks a silly number of languages and now runs a translation business.

Her home’s close to the airport so the drive was short and pleasant. Once there I dumped my stuff in my own little pavilion / chalet (with a hot tub and an infra-red sauna!) and enjoyed a cuppa. Maya’s son, Gyan, joined us for lunch and then I started hammering away at a handful of PC problems. By dinnertime I’d nailed a few and given Maya the advice she needed to (hopefully) resolve many of the rest.

Daisy, who I’d stayed with the last time I passed through Geneva, came over for dinner in the evening and we had a great time chatting about all kinds of things. As always, it’s good to catch up with people I’ve met previously on my travels and none more so than when they’re as lovely as Daisy. I’m such a creep…

The night came to a late end and I went to hunker down in my own little mini apartment. A nice little stopover on my way back to work and yet another pleasant Couchsurfing experience.

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