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Archive for June, 2010

Moved on Sunday and Monday and Tuesday

Having finally satisfied everyone, the school, the landlords and ourselves, we were ready to move.

playing house

We had offers of help but in the event, staring at our five boxes or so, we didn’t feel it right to take anyone up on their kind offers seeing as though they’d be loading up about one box each. On the Sunday, after the other one’s reckless drinking the night before, we made a couple of trips there and back to our new place which you can imagine was a mightily arduous and miserable affair with neither of us much in the mood for anything other than collapsing in front of Smallville and eating buttered muffins and drinking tea. I can dream. The best I can hope for hung over in Seychelles is having bread at all, weak tea and the forethought to have rented a DVD from GR Video otherwise it’s rifling through the slush pile of UK newspaper freebies and rejecting for the umpteenth time the choice of Lord of the Flies (a good film I’m sure but have to be in the mood) Conan the Barbarian (California Governor?!) and Buster (two words ‘Phil Collins’).

For various other reasons, we stayed in our house two more days prolonging the agony of cleaning and organising each of our residences and enjoying our new house for one night before a minor Brit invasion – our friends were to arrive!

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Cable and Wireless postscript

Concluded very well indeed. Internet switched off at the old place Friday. Over to the new place for Sunday. Such was the smoothness of the transition, Cable and Wireless didn’t actually believe me when I called to tell them that all was ok and the internet seemed ready to use. They insisted that more still needed to be done at the new house and presumably went away and twiddled some knobs before confirming back to me that indeed they had done the job properly and correctly the first time.

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Zimababwe vs Seychelles postscript

Seychelles did lose to Zimbabwe in Zimbabwe, partly because four of their players INCLUDING THE CAPTAIN decided not to go. How does that even work?

Next time they play, sod the cheering and the screaming support. I just won’t turn up either. Maybe that’s why the stadium was so empty in the first round. Locals knew better.

Call me harsh but I don’t think they deserve to play or win games if that’s their attitude.

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Bread, bread, bread.

I’m quite slow to catch on. The other one, gawd bless him, was tasked by me to undertake what I now know to be an impossible mission – buying bread on a Sunday. Not for love nor money could he find any anywhere. Unwittingly, for the past nine months I’ve been exercising accidental organisation by presumably having a loaf in the freezer and now we were out. With nothing to eat in the house and being of a delicate constitution, we were desperate. Absolutely desperate. There was nothing else left to do but MAKE OUR OWN BREAD.

The other one mixed it and kneaded it. We left it. I kneaded it some more. I covered it in a tea towel. I left it. I stared at it. I shaped it. I put it in the oven. I took it out. I tapped it. I put it in the oven again. I took it out again. I tapped it again. I cooled it. I cut it.

HUNG OVER STILL AND THREE PIGGIN HOURS LATER, we ate the bread.

It needed more salt.

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‘Wild’ nights #2

I looked and wept

Following a drunken promise made at Wild night #1, I find myself with the other one and ‘T’ on on a Saturday evening in sports type place in Eden Island under the auspices of watching rugby. I was meant to have joined the ‘girls’ but thankfully they’re a little hung over (I don’t know them that well and would frankly much rather do the sport thing) and so I hang out with the ‘boys’ instead.

The vibe is very friendly and quite young with lots of new faces. It’s like a clubhouse of sorts with an invite only arrangement. I like it but am perturbed; I’m the only non white face there – pretty ironic given that I’m not even Seychellois. It’s probably a friends of friends thing that, while not intentional, has resulted in a South African/Expat drinking den which makes me uneasy – just as drinking at the Barrell (a real locals place) would probably also do, though I haven’t been there.

Shortly after, we move on anyway and that’s when the other one gets seriously drunk. Skipping a round of shots for a beer instead, the other one pays for his mistake by being made to drink drinks of his mate’s choosing, though the other one does not protest too much. The night ends with us being generously bought a bottle of Amarula to share between us seven or eight of us but seeing as though I’ve been promoted to designated driver, I sip on my coke instead and nervously drive us home. Apologies to anyone that I might have blinded that night – the full beam stayed on.

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Nothing is ever easy

where we're moving from...

So a flippin shenanigans with the moving logistics. Seems that a month’s notice is needed for the place we’re leaving and we want to move in to the other place as soon as possible. As its being handled by the school, it’s all done through third parties making it trickier to sort out especially as there are other complications concerning rent and deposits. To secure the place, we end up having to put down the deposit ourselves (and claim it back through school) and just about have enough money to cover it. We’re also anxious to move as our mates with their baby are coming to stay for two weeks and they’ll have a much better time, having the view and being close to the beach, than if we were in Sans Souci. The internet also is a pain as we have a yearlong contract with Cable and Wireless and though (luckily) there’s a line where we’re moving to (saving costs on having to do a survey) we don’t want to transfer access too early as that will mean losing it in Sans Souci. We wait with baited breath to see if C&W can cope.

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Job advert for British High Commission

Managed to successfully track down a copy of the Nation and snuffle out the job at the High Commission. In all honesty, I’m underwhelmed at first, the minimum qualifications are A levels and given that I’ve just recently finished dedicating my life to the pursuit of an MBA, it’s hardly money well spent. The position is helping out in the office with a broad enough remit and the politics side does excite me. Try as might not to be the civil servant, I can’t help but find real world politics far more interesting than deciding what’s the best way of marketing home insurance or fan belts. With a lot on at the moment, moving, friends coming over, family stuff going on I just decide to ignore it for a bit (always a great policy I find).

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