Home again. The job in Kuwait ended rather suddenly at the end of July so arrived home during the week and had a few pints to celebrate. Actually a bit more than a few.
Things around here don't change much, the lass that runs the Mounts is still a misery with no people skills. The county is full of emmets Wednesday was a terrible day to get home as it was Culdrose Airday, when the local navy base is open to the public. It is located on the only road from Helston to the Lizard and took me 45 minutes to do the mile past the camp.
Have been busy cutting the grass in the garden as it was left to grow while I was away, looks bloody awful now and will grow again when I go off again next week.
Leaving Kuwait early has enabled me to drop into another project immediatly, I am off to Algeria as soon a a visa is obtained.
Went around the local estate agents Friday to see if any one else can sell the house as the ones I am with at present have done nothing. I now realise why selling a house is such a traumatic experience, you have to deal with arsehole estate agents. I thaugnt lawyers were full of double speak but these clowns are in a league of their own. I had one idiot try to convince me that their sliding scale of prices that depended on the value of the property was not in effect a percentage based fee structure. He was also explaining how it was harder and therefore more expensive to sell a more expensive property. Still did not explain what extra work they had to do to justify the extra fee. Greedy bastards the lot of them. I cannot see why they just dont say it will cost x pounds to sell your house regardless of the value of that house. Rant over.
Sunday, 5 August 2007
Saturday, 14 July 2007
Highlight of my week..........
...was getting a haircut.
That just about sums up the excitment there is to be found in Kuwait.
Mind you it is only the third haircut that I have had overseas, and what a haircut it was. Not only did the young Indian lad spend over half an hour snipping away and then finishing off with a cut-throat razor. He then proceeded with a 5 minute scalp massage. I wondered what the hell he was doing when he started to beat me around the head. Was all ready to cuff him one but soon realised what was going on and tried to relax. After that he got out a hand massager and spent the next 5 mins doing my back as I leant forward in the chair. Very odd haircut. All for 2KD. I then bought a pair of Levi's for 4KD, not sure if that make it an expensive haircut or a cheap pair of jeans.
That just about sums up the excitment there is to be found in Kuwait.
Mind you it is only the third haircut that I have had overseas, and what a haircut it was. Not only did the young Indian lad spend over half an hour snipping away and then finishing off with a cut-throat razor. He then proceeded with a 5 minute scalp massage. I wondered what the hell he was doing when he started to beat me around the head. Was all ready to cuff him one but soon realised what was going on and tried to relax. After that he got out a hand massager and spent the next 5 mins doing my back as I leant forward in the chair. Very odd haircut. All for 2KD. I then bought a pair of Levi's for 4KD, not sure if that make it an expensive haircut or a cheap pair of jeans.
Tuesday, 3 July 2007
Back in the sandpit.
Arrived back in Kuwait last Friday morning. It only took 22 hours overnight from hotel to hotel, at least the bar in Dubai airport was open 24 hours so managed to get some Guinness during my 5 hour stopover.
Lagos - what can I say?
After a dubious start with no room at the inn and the worries raised regarding the security of the city, things turned out pretty good. Don't get me wrong, it is definitly NOT a place to visit ubless you have to, as there are few amenities or relaxation places, bars, restaurants etc. But when you try to make the best of a bad spot you can have some fun.
The people I met there, as is the case anywhere, made the place livable. They were a collection of long term ex-pats who have made Lagos their home and mainly oil workers just passing through for a few months/years with no intention of staying.
Once you scratch the surface Lagos seems to be the last wild frontier town where almost anything goes. The people are aware of the need for tight security, with armed police at the doors of the places where foreigners gather, but are pretty relaxed about the situation. It is a bit disconcerting the first time you go to a bar where you have to run the gauntlet or armed guards but after a while you just nod to them and enter, just as you do the bouncers at the pubs back home on a Saturday night.
I managed to fall on my feel and was luck that Pat's bar was just around the corner from my hotel so I could walk there and back. I met a whole collection of odd-ball characters there, I suppose you must be a little strange just to accept a contract in what most of the rest of the world considers one of the 10 most dangerous places on earth. They ranged from the ex-military from all cornerd of the empire who cannot get off the adventure trail to the young graduates looking to get on it for the first time. There were the guys who just loved the place and have taken a local wife and want to stay and create their own business, the ones that have a family back in their homeland who have taken up with a local girl as their in-country girlfriend to deflect the bipedal mosquitoes and the others who are like a kid in a candy shop and want to try a diferent sweet every time.
Then there are the bipedal mosquitoes, the bar girls. These come in roughly two flavours, the hard core working girls who are out every night looking for a mark to spend the night with at a cost of up to 10,000 Nira (£40/$80) although I have been told that you can haggle although I heard the going rate was about 8,000. A lot of these girls had travelled up from Port Harcourt in the oil fields of the Delta region once the ex-pats pulled out a few months ago once things there became too dangerous. Then there are the weekenders, the young college girls who are looking for fun, dancing and a few beers. If someone can supply these great, if they can find a foreign boyfriend so much the better. These girls ask money, as does everybody in Nigeria, for things like text books, cloths, shopping. I heard that after they get you hooked they also have a whole army of sick relatives that need taking care of. People have to be tough to get by.
On the whole like most places I have travelled to it took a little while to get into the local culture and find out just what the place is like. I feel that I was starting to understand the island when I left. I still could not see the attraction of staying for years but would not be adverse to returning to learn more. I have always thought that 3 months is the minimum needed to get a good feel of a place, as work takes up most of you time, so a month was a bit short. But still better than 2 week holiday time anywhere.
If any af the people from Pat's ever get to read this, then thanks for a great time.
Lagos - what can I say?
After a dubious start with no room at the inn and the worries raised regarding the security of the city, things turned out pretty good. Don't get me wrong, it is definitly NOT a place to visit ubless you have to, as there are few amenities or relaxation places, bars, restaurants etc. But when you try to make the best of a bad spot you can have some fun.
The people I met there, as is the case anywhere, made the place livable. They were a collection of long term ex-pats who have made Lagos their home and mainly oil workers just passing through for a few months/years with no intention of staying.
Once you scratch the surface Lagos seems to be the last wild frontier town where almost anything goes. The people are aware of the need for tight security, with armed police at the doors of the places where foreigners gather, but are pretty relaxed about the situation. It is a bit disconcerting the first time you go to a bar where you have to run the gauntlet or armed guards but after a while you just nod to them and enter, just as you do the bouncers at the pubs back home on a Saturday night.
I managed to fall on my feel and was luck that Pat's bar was just around the corner from my hotel so I could walk there and back. I met a whole collection of odd-ball characters there, I suppose you must be a little strange just to accept a contract in what most of the rest of the world considers one of the 10 most dangerous places on earth. They ranged from the ex-military from all cornerd of the empire who cannot get off the adventure trail to the young graduates looking to get on it for the first time. There were the guys who just loved the place and have taken a local wife and want to stay and create their own business, the ones that have a family back in their homeland who have taken up with a local girl as their in-country girlfriend to deflect the bipedal mosquitoes and the others who are like a kid in a candy shop and want to try a diferent sweet every time.
Then there are the bipedal mosquitoes, the bar girls. These come in roughly two flavours, the hard core working girls who are out every night looking for a mark to spend the night with at a cost of up to 10,000 Nira (£40/$80) although I have been told that you can haggle although I heard the going rate was about 8,000. A lot of these girls had travelled up from Port Harcourt in the oil fields of the Delta region once the ex-pats pulled out a few months ago once things there became too dangerous. Then there are the weekenders, the young college girls who are looking for fun, dancing and a few beers. If someone can supply these great, if they can find a foreign boyfriend so much the better. These girls ask money, as does everybody in Nigeria, for things like text books, cloths, shopping. I heard that after they get you hooked they also have a whole army of sick relatives that need taking care of. People have to be tough to get by.
On the whole like most places I have travelled to it took a little while to get into the local culture and find out just what the place is like. I feel that I was starting to understand the island when I left. I still could not see the attraction of staying for years but would not be adverse to returning to learn more. I have always thought that 3 months is the minimum needed to get a good feel of a place, as work takes up most of you time, so a month was a bit short. But still better than 2 week holiday time anywhere.
If any af the people from Pat's ever get to read this, then thanks for a great time.
Monday, 25 June 2007
Strike in Nigeria
Things in Lagos took a turn for the worse last week, a national strike was called last Tuesday night. After the newly elected civilian government was elelected a few weeks ago they tried to sell of Nigeria's oil refining capacity, double VAT and increase fuel by around 15%. The unions, or what passes for unions here, decided to add to this a demand for a 15% pay rise. After 5 days the government backed down so everybody is back to work today. Although the bipedal mosquitoes did not strike, they were as much in evidence in the bars over the weekend.
And what a weekend it was. Without the worry of having to get up for work most of the ex-pats here were in party mode. The weather and the fact that most places were closed did not dampen anybodies spirit. I had a few busy nights in Pat's bar until the wee hours and then working from the hotel during the day. Problem with that is the only place to get internet access in the hotel is in the courtyard next to the pool, very distracting. After a couple of early finishes at Pat's just in case the strike was cancelled, Friday ended up a long one, not getting back to the hotel until around 3:30.
Saturday was going to be a couple of beers while watching the rugby SA vs NZ. But as those of you that know me may already have guessed this did not happen. Watched the rugby, which was a good game, A couple of mates and I went on to what we thought was a cuban bar but as with lots of things here it had been changes. Now a regular bar called Michaels. One of the guy's girlfriend felt sorry for us two without female company so called a couple of her friends. This led to a slightly embarassing time initially as bor both the girls and us as we did not feel comfortable having two girls dumped on us. After a while while the beers flowed things relaxed and we had a good time laughing, joking and generally being a little bit silly.
Met a fellow Millwall supporter there and after a few reminisces we treated the bar to a loud rendition of 'No-one like us' to a round of applause from the staff. If we had done that at home we would have probably been asked to leave. You gotta love this country....maybe. After leaving there and returning to Pat's we packed the two girls off home in taxis and I got left with my mates girlfriend as he had to be at work for early shift Sunday. Why me? was the feeling as she nearly started a ruccus in the bar by telling a white girl that she liked her outfit - her story, or by chatting up a white girl - white girl's story. Truth as usual somewhere in between. After assuring Pat I would keep her out of mischief I managed to get her off home shortly after.
Babysitting duties over and enough ju-ju juice under my belt I hit the dance floor. After a while a few of us decided to hit another club to play pool. We ended up at YNOT a well known local haunt. I had heard of this bar and looked it over on the first night in town. It did not look up to much then but I was assured that there was another part to the club. They were right as upstairs there was a large dancefloor which had working A/C. Plus a clapped out pool table in the corner. Spent the next few hours drinking and dancing. Home around 4am. Great weekend.
Sunday, a few beers at Pat's in the afternoon for a de-briefing session and an early night as the strike was over and back to work early this morning.
Still no news of when I will get my passport back from immigration, but at least they will be working on extending my visa again. I am expecting to leave this Thursday if possible.
And what a weekend it was. Without the worry of having to get up for work most of the ex-pats here were in party mode. The weather and the fact that most places were closed did not dampen anybodies spirit. I had a few busy nights in Pat's bar until the wee hours and then working from the hotel during the day. Problem with that is the only place to get internet access in the hotel is in the courtyard next to the pool, very distracting. After a couple of early finishes at Pat's just in case the strike was cancelled, Friday ended up a long one, not getting back to the hotel until around 3:30.
Saturday was going to be a couple of beers while watching the rugby SA vs NZ. But as those of you that know me may already have guessed this did not happen. Watched the rugby, which was a good game, A couple of mates and I went on to what we thought was a cuban bar but as with lots of things here it had been changes. Now a regular bar called Michaels. One of the guy's girlfriend felt sorry for us two without female company so called a couple of her friends. This led to a slightly embarassing time initially as bor both the girls and us as we did not feel comfortable having two girls dumped on us. After a while while the beers flowed things relaxed and we had a good time laughing, joking and generally being a little bit silly.
Met a fellow Millwall supporter there and after a few reminisces we treated the bar to a loud rendition of 'No-one like us' to a round of applause from the staff. If we had done that at home we would have probably been asked to leave. You gotta love this country....maybe. After leaving there and returning to Pat's we packed the two girls off home in taxis and I got left with my mates girlfriend as he had to be at work for early shift Sunday. Why me? was the feeling as she nearly started a ruccus in the bar by telling a white girl that she liked her outfit - her story, or by chatting up a white girl - white girl's story. Truth as usual somewhere in between. After assuring Pat I would keep her out of mischief I managed to get her off home shortly after.
Babysitting duties over and enough ju-ju juice under my belt I hit the dance floor. After a while a few of us decided to hit another club to play pool. We ended up at YNOT a well known local haunt. I had heard of this bar and looked it over on the first night in town. It did not look up to much then but I was assured that there was another part to the club. They were right as upstairs there was a large dancefloor which had working A/C. Plus a clapped out pool table in the corner. Spent the next few hours drinking and dancing. Home around 4am. Great weekend.
Sunday, a few beers at Pat's in the afternoon for a de-briefing session and an early night as the strike was over and back to work early this morning.
Still no news of when I will get my passport back from immigration, but at least they will be working on extending my visa again. I am expecting to leave this Thursday if possible.
Friday, 8 June 2007
Still on Victoria Island.
Have ventured out and about somewhat in the last 10 days. Have found a couple of pubs worth visiting which have satelite tv so managed to see the England vs Brazil match, but unfortunatly the Estonia game was blocked from being shown in Nigeria for some strange reason. Had a night in Pat's bar and met some ex-pats who had also gathered for the game. Ended up in an impromptu quiz session, not the greatest entertainment but passed an evening.
Last weekend we went to find a bar that had the football. I had found a few places via the internet and we set off to find them. One of the problems here is the lack of street signs, most of the streets do not have name plates so it is a lot of guess work. This is made worse by there being no light as the streetlights are out more often than not due to power cuts. Anyway we eventually found the location only to discover that the whole complex or bars and restaurants had been demolished.
On to plan B, forget the football and get a pint! Another hour later we found the Thistle bar down an overcrowded back road which our local driver had never heard of. Arrived just in time to see Terry score the goal from Beckhams free kick. Thought I was back in south London, lots of black guys in a pub watching England and cheering on 'Becks' with cries of 'Yeah, Becks is back', 'Come on England'. Surreal.... Mind you they cheered just a loudly when Brazil equalised.
That night we also discovered the indoor mosquitos, the local girls flock round the westerners like a swarm and all take a crack at you, you have to almost swat them away to get a peaceful pint. They are regular girls trying to make a little on the side by getting taken home for the night for a fee, amateur whores I suppose.
Weather has turned bad as it has rained for most of the week, but still it is not cold so I can live with a bit of water.
One of the guys I am working with has come down with malaria despite taking his anti-malaria tablets bought in Kuwait. Glad I bought mine back in Blighty.
Had the bosses in from Kuwait last week and they are already cutting deadlines. Monday they arrived and told us they wanted an interim report by the end of the month. By the time they left on Thursday this had come in to 20th. Only problem is that the do not know what they want in an interim report, good I suppose as they should be happy with anything.
One of the drawbacks with working with muslims came to light Tuesday morning. We had had a meal together on Monday night in the hotel, lots of Lebanese food and everyone but me rabbiting on in scribble, oops sorry Arabic, felt a bit like a mosquito in a nunnery. I of course ordered a glass of wine with my meal whils everybody else was on the soft drinks. Tuesday it was pointed out to me that in future it would be advisable that when the customer is dining with us maybe I should refrain from taking alcohol. Told them not to bother inviting me in future as a) i am not a muslim and therefore do not see why I should not have a drink with a meal, and b) I was bored rigid as no-one saw it necessary to speak English at any point.
Last weekend we went to find a bar that had the football. I had found a few places via the internet and we set off to find them. One of the problems here is the lack of street signs, most of the streets do not have name plates so it is a lot of guess work. This is made worse by there being no light as the streetlights are out more often than not due to power cuts. Anyway we eventually found the location only to discover that the whole complex or bars and restaurants had been demolished.
On to plan B, forget the football and get a pint! Another hour later we found the Thistle bar down an overcrowded back road which our local driver had never heard of. Arrived just in time to see Terry score the goal from Beckhams free kick. Thought I was back in south London, lots of black guys in a pub watching England and cheering on 'Becks' with cries of 'Yeah, Becks is back', 'Come on England'. Surreal.... Mind you they cheered just a loudly when Brazil equalised.
That night we also discovered the indoor mosquitos, the local girls flock round the westerners like a swarm and all take a crack at you, you have to almost swat them away to get a peaceful pint. They are regular girls trying to make a little on the side by getting taken home for the night for a fee, amateur whores I suppose.
Weather has turned bad as it has rained for most of the week, but still it is not cold so I can live with a bit of water.
One of the guys I am working with has come down with malaria despite taking his anti-malaria tablets bought in Kuwait. Glad I bought mine back in Blighty.
Had the bosses in from Kuwait last week and they are already cutting deadlines. Monday they arrived and told us they wanted an interim report by the end of the month. By the time they left on Thursday this had come in to 20th. Only problem is that the do not know what they want in an interim report, good I suppose as they should be happy with anything.
One of the drawbacks with working with muslims came to light Tuesday morning. We had had a meal together on Monday night in the hotel, lots of Lebanese food and everyone but me rabbiting on in scribble, oops sorry Arabic, felt a bit like a mosquito in a nunnery. I of course ordered a glass of wine with my meal whils everybody else was on the soft drinks. Tuesday it was pointed out to me that in future it would be advisable that when the customer is dining with us maybe I should refrain from taking alcohol. Told them not to bother inviting me in future as a) i am not a muslim and therefore do not see why I should not have a drink with a meal, and b) I was bored rigid as no-one saw it necessary to speak English at any point.
Friday, 1 June 2007
Nigeria.........
...NOT a place to come on holiday. Been here 10 days now and am realising that the scams that flood the interweb that originate from this country are just the tip of the iceberg. The whole economy seems to be based on graft and scams. Everywhere you go people want handouts and backhanders. Every building is set behind high walls and razor wire, the guards on the gates want money when you either enter or leave, went to a bar last weekend and a gorilla of a bouncer pointed out our vehicle to us and wanted payment. I have been to places where there are many beggars that are a pain but here everyone is after your cash.
On the security front Victoria Island seems to be pretty safe but we have been advised not to travel into Lagos without a police escort. Won't bother doing that until I go to the airport, hopefully end of next week. Have found some bars and restaurants although not really good they offer basic meals and local beer. This is on the nights when the driver decides to come and get us, a few nights now have been spent in the hotel due to lack of transport and the fact that white guys walking the streets in the dadk is a big no no here.
Had a 4 day weekend last week which was excruciatingly boring. Monday and Tuesday were public holidays declared last Friday. This was because the newly elected government was being sworn in and there were fears of trouble. In the end it all passed of rather calmly, only everywhere was shut so had to spend 4 days lying by the pool behing the walls and razor wire of the hotel/guest house.
On the security front Victoria Island seems to be pretty safe but we have been advised not to travel into Lagos without a police escort. Won't bother doing that until I go to the airport, hopefully end of next week. Have found some bars and restaurants although not really good they offer basic meals and local beer. This is on the nights when the driver decides to come and get us, a few nights now have been spent in the hotel due to lack of transport and the fact that white guys walking the streets in the dadk is a big no no here.
Had a 4 day weekend last week which was excruciatingly boring. Monday and Tuesday were public holidays declared last Friday. This was because the newly elected government was being sworn in and there were fears of trouble. In the end it all passed of rather calmly, only everywhere was shut so had to spend 4 days lying by the pool behing the walls and razor wire of the hotel/guest house.
Thursday, 24 May 2007
Kuwait and Nigeria
Spent a few days in Kuwait which is just like any other gulf city only a little more decrepit, not as shiny and new as some, maybe due to the fact that I arrived during the back end of a four day sandstorm. First couple of days I could not see much beyond a few hundred yards of the hotel, but on the last morning there it was clear and the city stretched for miles.
Arrived in Lagos to the usual chaos of third world airports. We were pulled out of line for immigration by a uniform with a sheet of paper with the other guys names on, so I just tagged along thinking it would be quicker. Sent to the front of the queue and processed by the first immigration official who found my visa with CANCELLED stamped over it. This wasn't right as it wasn't like that when I checked it when my passport came back from the embassy in Kuwait. Turned out that this visa was for a single visit and had been cancelled because I had been issued with another 12 month multi entry visa. Was a bit worried when this big official kept pointing at the cancelled stamp and staring at me with hostility in his eyes. I had visions of spending time in custody waiting for a flight back to Kuwait. Fortunatly the project manager travelling with me knew there were two visas in my passport and the problem was averted. After this we had to line up again for the second round of immigration. This involved a woman checking the first guys work and entering the details into a computer and then passing my passport to a third guy so he could give me an entry stamp. After bitching about how he didn't like the stamp he finally did his job and I was in the country.
Why the rush to get us to the fron of the queue at imigration I do not know as we had to wait for another hour for out bags. They cane onto the baggage belt in two's and three's. We speculated that there were only two guys emptying the hold by hand and carrying the bags from the plane to the terminal. Either that or they were bored and trying to drag out the job to fill their day, kind of like council workers.
Once we were through the rest of the airport security, which consisted of checking baggage against the tags given to us when we checked in in Kuwait to ensure that we had our own luggage and nothing stoled from the carousel, we were met by our personal security. This consisted of a couple of wide boys who were there to get us through the police barriers keeping back the hawkers and general melee of people who hang around airports in all third world countries trying to shake down any unsuspecting mark. We were escorted to our vehicles and headed off to Victoria Island with a police escort, sirens wailing, horns blaring, the lot. Seem a daft way to transport foreigners securely - by announcing their presence - but we arrived at the hotel so it worked.
On arrival at the hotel I was not totally suprised to find that it was overbooked and I had to be farmed out to another place nearby. The new place was a cheap and nasty guest house who's owner saw a white face and immediatly tripled the price. When he asked for 22,750 Niras, I assumed there were around 1000 to the pound.... wrong, there are only about 250 to the pound which made the romm including taxes come out at over £100 pound for the night. I noticed in the booking ledger that other rooms going to people with local names cost a third of the price around 8,000 Niras. Welcome to the capital third world rip off countries.
3 views of a £100 room Nigerian style.
Had dinner with the other guys at the Scarlet Lodge, where I was supposed to stay and found that everything is overpriced, must be a notional passtime to rip-off everybody you can.
In the morning I moved to the Scarlet Lodge which is 'only' $120/night for a room without breakfast, which cost around £10 for a bit of scrambled egg and a cup of tea.
Arrived in Lagos to the usual chaos of third world airports. We were pulled out of line for immigration by a uniform with a sheet of paper with the other guys names on, so I just tagged along thinking it would be quicker. Sent to the front of the queue and processed by the first immigration official who found my visa with CANCELLED stamped over it. This wasn't right as it wasn't like that when I checked it when my passport came back from the embassy in Kuwait. Turned out that this visa was for a single visit and had been cancelled because I had been issued with another 12 month multi entry visa. Was a bit worried when this big official kept pointing at the cancelled stamp and staring at me with hostility in his eyes. I had visions of spending time in custody waiting for a flight back to Kuwait. Fortunatly the project manager travelling with me knew there were two visas in my passport and the problem was averted. After this we had to line up again for the second round of immigration. This involved a woman checking the first guys work and entering the details into a computer and then passing my passport to a third guy so he could give me an entry stamp. After bitching about how he didn't like the stamp he finally did his job and I was in the country.
Why the rush to get us to the fron of the queue at imigration I do not know as we had to wait for another hour for out bags. They cane onto the baggage belt in two's and three's. We speculated that there were only two guys emptying the hold by hand and carrying the bags from the plane to the terminal. Either that or they were bored and trying to drag out the job to fill their day, kind of like council workers.
Once we were through the rest of the airport security, which consisted of checking baggage against the tags given to us when we checked in in Kuwait to ensure that we had our own luggage and nothing stoled from the carousel, we were met by our personal security. This consisted of a couple of wide boys who were there to get us through the police barriers keeping back the hawkers and general melee of people who hang around airports in all third world countries trying to shake down any unsuspecting mark. We were escorted to our vehicles and headed off to Victoria Island with a police escort, sirens wailing, horns blaring, the lot. Seem a daft way to transport foreigners securely - by announcing their presence - but we arrived at the hotel so it worked.
On arrival at the hotel I was not totally suprised to find that it was overbooked and I had to be farmed out to another place nearby. The new place was a cheap and nasty guest house who's owner saw a white face and immediatly tripled the price. When he asked for 22,750 Niras, I assumed there were around 1000 to the pound.... wrong, there are only about 250 to the pound which made the romm including taxes come out at over £100 pound for the night. I noticed in the booking ledger that other rooms going to people with local names cost a third of the price around 8,000 Niras. Welcome to the capital third world rip off countries.
3 views of a £100 room Nigerian style.Had dinner with the other guys at the Scarlet Lodge, where I was supposed to stay and found that everything is overpriced, must be a notional passtime to rip-off everybody you can.
In the morning I moved to the Scarlet Lodge which is 'only' $120/night for a room without breakfast, which cost around £10 for a bit of scrambled egg and a cup of tea.
Sunday, 20 May 2007
Back to work
Well after waiting a few weeks for a contract to be produced I am off on another wander around the globe, this time to Kuwait and Nigeria, two new countries for me.
As usual the people who want me to work for them keep hanging about until the last minute and then expect you to drop everything and run. After 2 weeks of waiting for a contract they produced one on Monday and expected me to be in Kuwait the next day.... have these people never heard of booking flights, hire cars etc... it's not easy getting out of Cornwall in a hurry. In the end I travelled on Friday. Could not get a taxi to Truro as all the local ones seem to be on 'school runs' or sleeping in the afternoons. Had to catch a bus from Cury to Truro to pick up a rental car. Only made contact with the emploters on Friday morning regarding where in Kuwait I had to go as I was arriving at 06:30 and did not want to be left stranded at the airport. Was told what hotel I was booked in and that someone would be there to meet me.
All went fine, no trouble on the roads and even the guy at the bag drop counter was helpful in telling me that I could change my seat to one in the exit row as there were lots available but he could not do it from his terminal but I had to change my seat once I had gone through security. LYING BASTARD......there were no spare seats in the exit row, why the little scots c**t told me that I don't know...maybe it's genetic!!!!!
Flight was uneventful enough except that BA seem to thing diabetics have no taste buds as they keep serving up bland shit meals. With the delightful aroma of shepards pie wafting through the cabin I get served cous-cous with FRIED tomatoes, how this is classed a diabetic meal I have no idea. Maybe BA should employ a diabetic to write their menu's. To top it off breakfast was a CHEESE roll,. Fried food and cheese were the first things the dietician told me to avoid.
Arrived tired after an overnight and after going through the amazingly incompetent visa aplication procedure I found that there was no-one from the hotel to meet me. Had to buy a local SIM card as vodafone for some reason had blocked me rom using my UK SIM. Their loss.
Called the local contact and found that they had changed the hotel without letting me know. Whole project seems loused up even before the start.
Seems that I am only here to get a visa for Nigeria as there is no-one else to discuss the project with. Why the rush, must be the old hurry up and wait syndrome.
As usual the people who want me to work for them keep hanging about until the last minute and then expect you to drop everything and run. After 2 weeks of waiting for a contract they produced one on Monday and expected me to be in Kuwait the next day.... have these people never heard of booking flights, hire cars etc... it's not easy getting out of Cornwall in a hurry. In the end I travelled on Friday. Could not get a taxi to Truro as all the local ones seem to be on 'school runs' or sleeping in the afternoons. Had to catch a bus from Cury to Truro to pick up a rental car. Only made contact with the emploters on Friday morning regarding where in Kuwait I had to go as I was arriving at 06:30 and did not want to be left stranded at the airport. Was told what hotel I was booked in and that someone would be there to meet me.
All went fine, no trouble on the roads and even the guy at the bag drop counter was helpful in telling me that I could change my seat to one in the exit row as there were lots available but he could not do it from his terminal but I had to change my seat once I had gone through security. LYING BASTARD......there were no spare seats in the exit row, why the little scots c**t told me that I don't know...maybe it's genetic!!!!!
Flight was uneventful enough except that BA seem to thing diabetics have no taste buds as they keep serving up bland shit meals. With the delightful aroma of shepards pie wafting through the cabin I get served cous-cous with FRIED tomatoes, how this is classed a diabetic meal I have no idea. Maybe BA should employ a diabetic to write their menu's. To top it off breakfast was a CHEESE roll,. Fried food and cheese were the first things the dietician told me to avoid.
Arrived tired after an overnight and after going through the amazingly incompetent visa aplication procedure I found that there was no-one from the hotel to meet me. Had to buy a local SIM card as vodafone for some reason had blocked me rom using my UK SIM. Their loss.
Called the local contact and found that they had changed the hotel without letting me know. Whole project seems loused up even before the start.
Seems that I am only here to get a visa for Nigeria as there is no-one else to discuss the project with. Why the rush, must be the old hurry up and wait syndrome.
Saturday, 19 May 2007
Wembley
Last weekend I took my son to the new Wembley Stadium. The reason was to see Truro City play in the FA Vase final. Travelled up to London on the Saturday and had a night out with my big Dutch mate in Sudbury. You can catch his travels on his blog http://greyhound10.blogspot.com/
Anyway the new place is pretty good for a football stadium but I was expecting something a bit special for 750 million. All clean, shiney and new, lots of food outlets with nobody much buying anything because of the extortionalt costs of everything. £3.50 for chips, £5.00 for a burger and £8.50 for fish and chips. Took ages to find a programme as there waer no sellers of anything outside and I could only find 2 stalls selling them inside which were located adjacent to each other.
The only thing outside is the 20 foot statue of Bobby Moore.
Inside the stadium did not seem as big as I expected, it holds 90,000 people but seems smaller than the old place possibly due to the seating coming right to the pitch without the running track between the crowd and the playing surface.
I was a good dayout with Truro lifting the trophy to complete a treble of FA Vase, League champions and Cornwall Senior Cup.
Anyway the new place is pretty good for a football stadium but I was expecting something a bit special for 750 million. All clean, shiney and new, lots of food outlets with nobody much buying anything because of the extortionalt costs of everything. £3.50 for chips, £5.00 for a burger and £8.50 for fish and chips. Took ages to find a programme as there waer no sellers of anything outside and I could only find 2 stalls selling them inside which were located adjacent to each other.
The only thing outside is the 20 foot statue of Bobby Moore.
Inside the stadium did not seem as big as I expected, it holds 90,000 people but seems smaller than the old place possibly due to the seating coming right to the pitch without the running track between the crowd and the playing surface.
I was a good dayout with Truro lifting the trophy to complete a treble of FA Vase, League champions and Cornwall Senior Cup.
Thursday, 3 May 2007
The Den
Last weekend I went to London the city of my birth. I incorporated a trip to the dentist as well as a visit to the last home game of the season at the Den to see Millwall beat Bristol City.
After having my teeth cleaned after the annual checkup I took a walk around Lewisham, which hasn't changed much since I was a kid, except the road layout and the market stalls now sell yams as well as traditional veg. Sign of a multi-cultural society?
Spent the afternoon sitting in the park, Manor House Gardens to give it its full title. I spent most of my formative years in this park as I had to go through it to get to primary school, and everybody I knew as a child used to hang out there. Seeing all the little kids playing there took me back to my youth and some of the escapades. I remember when I was at the primary school we had to wear caps and blazers as well as short trousers and ties. One day a lad called Sean threw my friend Joe's cap into the duck pond, why I am not sure and didn't really care as we picked him up and threw him in to retrieve it. Later that evening Sean's mum went round to see Joe's dad to complain about Sean's dunking. When Big Joe found out that we had thrown Sean in to fetch little Joe's cap he told couldn't see a problem and told Sean's mum to go away. Over the years nearly everyone was thrown into the pond at one time or another. I was never actually physicall thrown in but jumped in on many occasions during the long hot summers of yesteryear, especially the summer of '76 which was spent almost entirely in the park. Lazy hot summer days hanging around on the grassy hill until being chucked out at closing time then waiting for the parkie to lock up and leave we would then climb the fence and hang out there for the night. At least it kept me off the streets.
Saturday was my first visit of the season to the Den to watch Millwall. Living in Cornwall and working all over the world I do not get there as much as I would like but try to get there at least once a season. After a few seasons of turmoil the club seems to have turned itself around and the future looks bright after an investment from an American and a property tycoon from the Isla of Man. The team looked good for a third division outfit and with a couple of new players in the summer we should challenge for promoyion next season. As for the game it was a typical end of season fare although Bristol City were looking to gain promotion they did not seem to want it enough and were easily contained with Millwall nicking the winner 10 mins from time.
After having my teeth cleaned after the annual checkup I took a walk around Lewisham, which hasn't changed much since I was a kid, except the road layout and the market stalls now sell yams as well as traditional veg. Sign of a multi-cultural society?
Spent the afternoon sitting in the park, Manor House Gardens to give it its full title. I spent most of my formative years in this park as I had to go through it to get to primary school, and everybody I knew as a child used to hang out there. Seeing all the little kids playing there took me back to my youth and some of the escapades. I remember when I was at the primary school we had to wear caps and blazers as well as short trousers and ties. One day a lad called Sean threw my friend Joe's cap into the duck pond, why I am not sure and didn't really care as we picked him up and threw him in to retrieve it. Later that evening Sean's mum went round to see Joe's dad to complain about Sean's dunking. When Big Joe found out that we had thrown Sean in to fetch little Joe's cap he told couldn't see a problem and told Sean's mum to go away. Over the years nearly everyone was thrown into the pond at one time or another. I was never actually physicall thrown in but jumped in on many occasions during the long hot summers of yesteryear, especially the summer of '76 which was spent almost entirely in the park. Lazy hot summer days hanging around on the grassy hill until being chucked out at closing time then waiting for the parkie to lock up and leave we would then climb the fence and hang out there for the night. At least it kept me off the streets.
Saturday was my first visit of the season to the Den to watch Millwall. Living in Cornwall and working all over the world I do not get there as much as I would like but try to get there at least once a season. After a few seasons of turmoil the club seems to have turned itself around and the future looks bright after an investment from an American and a property tycoon from the Isla of Man. The team looked good for a third division outfit and with a couple of new players in the summer we should challenge for promoyion next season. As for the game it was a typical end of season fare although Bristol City were looking to gain promotion they did not seem to want it enough and were easily contained with Millwall nicking the winner 10 mins from time.
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