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Post by questa on Sept 11, 2019 3:09:47 GMT
onlyMark...old copper pennies...exactly. As kids the taste was so foul we had competitions to see who could keep one on their tongue the longest.
I had from 4pm to 6am following day at Changi...14 hours. Arrived too late to do the one hour free tour of Singapore, closes at 4pm of course. wandered around as my flight got delayed more and more. Not feasible to take a hotel room as the announcements came hourly that we would board "soon". All the seats were hogged by others so found a quiet-ish spot on the floor and snoozed. Woken by a nice cleaner when they called for my flight. (we had chatted night before).
I must recommend the site sleepinginairports.com
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Post by questa on Sept 11, 2019 3:26:57 GMT
Mick...The pain of no anesthesia is better than the nerve block they would have had to do injecting several sites at the base of the tongue. Think of a dentist numbing one side of your face, now double it. Nowadays of course, they have lots of other methods to make it as painless as possible.
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Post by questa on Sept 11, 2019 3:59:25 GMT
Bixa, I know I have posted this before but to remind everyone... Ibuprofen is a good pain-killer and anti-inflammatory but it is also anti-coagulant i.e. it thins the blood and breaks up clots. It also plays hell with membranes in your stomach if taken in excess. Aspirin is pretty much the same Paracetamol (US has another name for this) is good for pain but not an anti-inflammatory or anti-coagulant. It can be harsh on the liver if taken in excess for a long time. Paracetamol + Codeine needs a script from a doctor for short term use. may cause a bit of constipation, drowsiness, and can be habit forming if taken often. So dear Bixa, use paracetamol so you don't bleed everywhere.
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Post by bjd on Sept 11, 2019 5:05:50 GMT
When I got headaches -- much more rarely now than I did for a few years -- the only thing that worked was ibuprofen. Paracetamol did nothing at all, even though one doctor told me to take that. I never overdid the dosage though and the headaches lasted about 48 hours.
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Post by questa on Sept 11, 2019 6:28:33 GMT
Ibuprofen is about the only thing for my back spasms, too. But then again it's "horses for courses". I don't have blood in my mouth even if it does taste like mangoes.
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Post by bjd on Sept 11, 2019 9:01:35 GMT
I don't drink blood often enough to define its taste, but mangoes are certainly delicious. I had never tasted ripe ones in the old days in Canada and thought they tasted like turpentine, but I love them now. Unfortunately, it's hard to find ripe, tasty ones in France.
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Post by kerouac2 on Sept 11, 2019 10:57:06 GMT
Not in my neighbourhood. The 50,000 Parisians from the Indian subcontinent would not buy them if they were not ripe.
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Post by onlyMark on Sept 11, 2019 12:25:03 GMT
Kimby, clean laundry. As mentioned, I am not alone.
Mick, did nobody else suck on their clean underwear when they were a kid?
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Post by mickthecactus on Sept 11, 2019 14:11:29 GMT
Kimby, clean laundry. As mentioned, I am not alone. Mick, did nobody else suck on their clean underwear when they were a kid? You’re worrying me Mark. Is that an old Nottingham fetish?
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Post by onlyMark on Sept 11, 2019 16:01:44 GMT
Not elsewhere? We didn't have dummies as babies, we used to suck on a pair of clean pit underpants.
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Post by questa on Sept 12, 2019 0:28:36 GMT
Underpants? You wuz lucky! We had to wrap old newspaper 'round 'selves and hope tha wind darn't change!
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Post by mossie on Sept 12, 2019 7:02:58 GMT
Blimey! I always thought you Aussies ran about stark bollock naked chucking boomerangs at innocent kangaroos
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Post by mickthecactus on Sept 12, 2019 8:17:04 GMT
Questa might have a bit of difficulty with that...,
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Post by questa on Sept 12, 2019 13:57:26 GMT
**Gulp** you saw me then, Mossie?
Never mastered a boomerang, Mick, but I'm pretty good with a 4 wheel drive car with a 'roo bar. (Actually they hit me)
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Post by kerouac2 on Sept 12, 2019 14:51:20 GMT
Three trips to Australia and I've never seen a roo.
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Post by kerouac2 on Sept 12, 2019 14:54:00 GMT
I did send a testy message to the company with a copy to the building management company, but it seems to have had no effect. Testy or not, emails don't work if you have a problem. You have to phone and talk to a real person. The painting begins on Monday. I even had to hold them back, because they were willing to start tomorrow.
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Post by mickthecactus on Sept 12, 2019 15:05:52 GMT
**Gulp** you saw me then, Mossie? Never mastered a boomerang, Mick, but I'm pretty good with a 4 wheel drive car with a 'roo bar. (Actually they hit me) It was the bollock naked thing that I was thinking of...
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Post by bjd on Sept 12, 2019 15:36:31 GMT
Testy or not, emails don't work if you have a problem. You have to phone and talk to a real person. The painting begins on Monday. I even had to hold them back, because they were willing to start tomorrow. Yeah -- it's feast or famine with these people. We are going to have the attic insulated and we were told that they were so busy they couldn't do it before October. Today I had a call that they fitted us in next week. Well, no -- we have friends coming and are not going to stay home for 2 days while they work. God knows when they will come now.
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Post by onlyMark on Sept 12, 2019 20:35:04 GMT
Back in Africa. I'd not forgotten, but I'd diminished in my mind with spending several months away, how frustrating some things here can be.
It started when I was getting off the plane at the airport yesterday. The bottom of the steps were no more than 50 metres away from the entrance door to the terminal. But no, we were asked to wait for a bus. Why, I have no idea, must be procedure. But as I was within the first dozen off I came to the 'discussion' between several businessmen and the official. We wanted to walk, he said we must wait for a bus. We won. We walked.
There is a short corridor and then the immigration desks. I'd slipped past several passengers because I started to walk as soon as the first businessman did. There are five desks and I immediately veered off to one where nobody was waiting, it was just the immigration woman. I waited at the line, she was doing something on her phone. She looked up and held her hand out for my passport. I stepped forward and gave it to her. She put it straight down on the desk in front of her, stood up, muttered something and walked out the back door of the booth. I saw her then aimlessly start to walk away out of sight. Still jabbing at her phone.
I looked at the official in the next booth and held my palm out in the fashion of "WTF?" He stopped serving the man at that booth, exited his, went into mine, recovered my passport, went back to his and waved me to him. I looked and with raised eyebrows apologised to the man he was originally serving. The official immediately stamped my passport without looking at it and I walked through.
Normally the bags can take half an hour or often more to come. The baggage conveyors are immediately behind the immigration booths. I've no idea how it happened but my bag was already just wandering along looking forlorn and as though I'd abandoned it. Never happened so quickly before and I think a one in a million event. More than likely no bus was involved either. But then, you have to go through customs.
They demand from all people their original baggage tag, you know, the sticker usually put on the back of your boarding card. Unfortunately, I'd had three boarding cards issued and somehow misplaced my first one. It was somewhere in my daypack I carry. I was by now the very first to exit so I was fully prepared to have to hold everyone up whilst I found it. You'd think that normally if someone couldn't, they'd attend to others whilst you did. But no. First is first and everyone has to wait until he or she is sorted. I've had to wait many a time.
I got waived straight through without any check or comparison between tags on the bag and the sticker. Frustrating in that the unexpected can happen at any time. Next to negotiate is the taxis. But - not a taxi or driver to be seen. Again, totally unexpected. I walked into the car park and saw a couple. So I approached one and told him where I wanted to go. I know the price. He wanted me to pay the 'white man tax' and quoted nearly double. Quite normal really with taxis at any airport. But the clue I wasn’t a tourist should have been giving him an exact address, not a hotel and a description of where the road is including landmarks.
But I just said, “No.” He quoted the price again and said this is the normal price. I told him I just want to go to the town, I don’t want to buy his car. He said, “I’m not sure it’s worth that much anyway” then agreed on the proper price and we set off.
At my temporary accommodation, a rented apartment we probably won’t be in for more than the next couple of weeks – the door lock and patio door lock didn’t lock. (Quickly explain Mrs M is away but stayed here one night and will be back soon but I hadn’t been here before. Due to both of us spending several weeks/months away we gave up the exorbitant rental on our previous place.) I mentioned it to the owner who let me in and gave me the keys. I fully expected nothing would be done before we left and probably not even then.
I got a call from her five minutes after she left – the locksmith is on his way – and he turned up five minutes later. Job done. But – due to the state of the country we are experiencing many hours each day of power cuts. Load shedding they call it. I was only in the place for half an hour and the power went off. Sometimes a generator will kick in, but not at this place. All quiet. I sat and wondered about going out for a meal and maybe a cafe for the internet. It started to get darker.
I noticed the cooker had a gas hob. Very unusual. Probably 99% of houses have an all electric cooker. I was happy because at least I could boil a kettle. Then, as I moved across the living room I caught sight of a small LED light behind the TV blinking. I looked and saw it was an internet router still with power. So I now also had internet. Super duper. The TV standby light was also on. That switched on and conveniently the channel was set to the BBC news. I was all set up.
I distractedly switched a light on as evening drew in. Bugger me, but they all worked as well. I was expecting a quite miserable evening but things looked up – due, I discovered, to someone with a bit of “nous” who had a solar battery back up system. Most unusual.
The next day, today, things got worse before they got better. I needed to tax and insure my car. Insurance is basic third party and is a set rate wherever you get it from, so it matters not what company you use. Tax is standard as well, so I go to a post office not too far away that is usually quiet. In fact there was only me there, so I gave the counter man my registration document, he plugged it into the computer, frowned, then turned the screen to me. “It’s blocked,” he said. So nothing could be done. The entry on the computer said there was a change of details pending from December last year and until that is sorted, no other procedures could be started. He traced the entry to a police station in the city centre and said I would have to go there to remove the block. Not what I wanted to do, but I had to.
I made my way through the traffic, found the office, which is the main one for the country, hence busy being an understatement. I had to ask where to go and was told to go to office number 22 – which took some finding as there are no numbers on or over the doors. Of course there was a queue outside.
One and a half hours later it was my turn. I went in and saw a small office with two desks, the man I wanted to see was behind one of them and there was only enough room for a chair places sideways between his desk and the wall. I squeezed myself in – but could only see him in the letter box sized slot between two large computer screens he was looking at. I waited patiently whilst other men and women came in, said something, he did something and they went out again. I sat and waited another 15 to 20 minutes, occasionally peering at him between the screens with one eye. At some stage he decided it was my turn.
I slid the car registration document through the slot and told him what the problem was. He took no more than three seconds, and I mean three seconds, to put the plate number in, click something, hand me the document back and tell me it was clear and unblocked. I left.
I decided that as this building also did tax and insurance I’d get it there so that if there was a problem I’d go back and see him. I asked and queued at the right counter. Behind about ten others. I got to the front after more than half an hour. It was my turn next. The man got up and exited the rear of the counter and I never saw him again. The others in the queue, as soon as they saw him get up, quickly joined on the back of other queues at other counters. They knew more than I did.
I left – to go back to the post office I’d originally started from. I knew if there was still a problem I’d give up for the day. That’s what happened sometimes, you have to give up, calm down and start over the next day. About 45 mins later I pulled up outside the first place. Parked and walked in. There was one man before me just being handed a printout I recognised as the tax disc for a car. He counter man looked up and said to me as I approached, “Has it been cleared?” Probably a bit of a change in routine for him so he remembered me.
I just opened my mouth to speak and there was a loud click. The electric had just been cut off.
I curled up a fist and pressed it down on the counter in frustration. No electric, no computer and no printer then. Only the sound of the generator kicking in from the shop next door. The man looked at me and pointed to a chair. Told me to sit down. He disappeared out the back door behind the counter. I saw him pass back and forth trailing and extension cable. This he unraveled through the door.
I saw him bend down under his counter and heard him removing and plugging in two things. I stood up and walked forwards. There was a beep as his computer started up and a whirring noise from the printer. He appeared from underneath with a smile on his face like a Phoenix rising from the ashes (not quite accurate, but that’s all I could think of for a second). I asked, “Did you....” and pointed next door. “They won’t mind for a minute.”
I got my tax and insurance, my car had been unblocked in the system, and as I walked out after profuse thanks, two men walked in. I disappeared in to the car park hearing the words, “Sorry the power is off, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
In celebration of a job finished I went to a local Indian restaurant and had a thali.
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Post by mickthecactus on Sept 12, 2019 20:42:02 GMT
Brilliant ! Thanks Markymark.
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Post by kerouac2 on Sept 12, 2019 20:55:38 GMT
Very efficient day. I wish it worked so well in Europe.
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Post by lagatta on Sept 12, 2019 23:41:08 GMT
Incredible story, and so well told!
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Post by bjd on Sept 13, 2019 5:25:31 GMT
I guess you either learn patience or develop ulcers.
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Post by onlyMark on Sept 13, 2019 14:04:15 GMT
I had another exciting day today. I needed more paperwork for the car. I'll tell you about it another time.
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Post by Kimby on Sept 13, 2019 16:11:53 GMT
Red tape welcome instead of a red carpet welcome. Hope you get it sorted soon.
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Post by whatagain on Sept 13, 2019 18:40:39 GMT
I could not stop reading when I was supposed to watch my BBQ. Ham urger is overcooked. No big deal my wife doesn't eat hamburgers do she don't notice 😇
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Post by whatagain on Sept 13, 2019 18:55:23 GMT
Aarghh. A real trauma here. Actually 2. First trauma : I opened a bottle of white instead of red. Second trauma : the bottle I eventually opened yields a very average wine. Minervois 2015. where the heck did I buy that one ?
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Post by bixaorellana on Sept 13, 2019 19:36:05 GMT
How you suffer!
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Post by Kimby on Sept 13, 2019 20:33:14 GMT
First world trauma.
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Post by whatagain on Sept 14, 2019 12:04:46 GMT
I knew I wOuld find here support understanding and commiseration.
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