My Thanks to the Indian Embassy Visa Department

But before I pour out my gratitude to the Indian Embassy, here is the third and final update on the Red Bicycle…and yes, you have guessed. It is over. One day, it was there and the next one, it wasn’t. But not so quickly. As we passed by, mourning our loss, Hazel suddenly saw our bicycle over the fence.

So there it was. But the story does not end. Two days later, it had been removed completely. Alas, the Gemeinde (Local Council) must have decided that you could have too much of a good thing. All good things come to an end. Sorry folks.

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Back to the main story of the day.

As you have guessed from the title, I am indebted to the Visa Department of the Indian Embassy. Firstly, they processed our visa applications for our September trip to India in four days. That would be sufficient for thanks, but probably insufficient for a mention in my blog.

The second and blogworthy reason is to do with the method of returning our passports. They put the passports in separate envelopes, sent them registered post and put CHF 5 stamps (about £3) on each envelope (The Swiss post office also deserves a mention here for placing a delicate postmark on them).

You may be puzzled at this point, but I can still feel my sense of surprise and pleasure at seeing a high value stamp, neatly franked, arriving at our apartment, ready to be soaked off, dried and placed with other Swiss stamps, which have followed this philatelic route.

I do not remember the last time this happened. The need for commercial efficiency has reduced the high value stamp to something of a philatelic rarity, and certainly not to be used for its original postal purpose. The franking machines, both in the post rooms of companies and at the post office itself have seen an end to this.

In England, the Post Office itself goes one stage further in its battle against stamp collectors, by ensuring that any stamp, foolishly affixed to an envelope for the purposes of sending a letter, is completely obliterated with a black or blue chalk mark, that looks as if it has been applied by a two year child.

My two CHF 5 used Swiss stamps bear the image of a Catillac pear, which, according to the Guardian Life and Style section, is a great cooker (if you are interested in this sort of thing).

I will now place my Catillac pear-imaged stamps in my very poor and neglected stamp collection, with the hope that only the Indian Embassy will use these stamps and thus my philatelic gems will form an important and valuable part of my pension plan.

What a Clever Gadget

Before I launch into another burst of indignation about the difficulties of negotiating modern life, a quick update on the “Red bike”, also known as “The Red Bike”.

http://colinhawker.blogspot.com/2011/06/red-bicycle.html

I have had many concerned emails about this Bike. David Gray has thanked me for finding it for him, after he got lost on the way home in Derbyshire one day, and couldn’t remember where he had parked it. Others have made similar sightings which add to the theory that they are planted by aliens.

More recently, an empty tin of Red Bull was neatly placed in its shopping basket, adding to the sense of modern art. Should it now be relabelled “The Red Bicycle with Red Bull Can”, thereby adding to the sense of surrealism? (Louise – How am I doing?)

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However, “The Red Bicycle with Red Bull Can” was not intended as today’s main story. I am beginning to fight a losing battle with today’s technology. Last week, I was moving the cursor on my Laptop, when the screen size changed. Everything became bigger. The cursor did not move, but as I gave it a little wiggle, the main title moved in and out. I don’t know how I did it, but it was very impressive. Actually, I did not want my screen size changed, but you don’t always get a choice in these things. The most interesting thing is that this happens randomly, but fairly frequently.

Two weeks ago, the screen decided to go sideways, so I had to stand the laptop on its side. I then had to move the mouse on the pad to the right, and to move the cursor downwards on the screen. And if that has given you a headache just reading it, then you can imagine what it did to me, as I tried to read my junk mail, with the latest offers from French websites for unlikely pharmaceutical products and people asking me for my bank details.

And it gets worse. Earlier this year, when I was England, my outlook calendar decided to change the time zone of my PC (I am not sure how it knew this), but didn’t change back when I returned to Zurich. It obviously doesn’t like Switzerland. Perhaps that’s why it keeps switching on the Google translator.

Now the automatic Google translator could be really useful, if you needed an English translation of a German Website. The time that it is not useful is when you are looking at an online German-English translator. Can you imagine a Dictionary that translates English words into (Yes) English words (and not always correctly)?

Then there the websites that assume, because I am in Switzerland, I want the German version of the website. Google still doesn’t believe that I prefer English, and keeps reverting to German. Google is not doing well this week, is it?

But it is not only the computer conspiring against me. Our oven is in league with Google. I was wondering why a pastie would not cook, when I realised the oven was off. Now this is not as stupid as it sounds. The “off” switch for the timer is the same as the “off” switch for the oven. So if you get too excited when switching the timer off, you get underdone pasties. Perhaps it could be developed into a feature. 
But not all problems are insoluble. My Dad says that there is an easy solution to the changing clocks problem - http://colinhawker.blogspot.com/2011/04/how-did-you-spend-27th-march.html - This is to leave the clocks on British Summer time. That way you don’t have to take any action, and you are always early for everything during the winter.

Sounds like the best advice that I have received in years.

I took Nineteen Shirts with me

We have just returned from twelve days in Hungary, Slovenia and Austria. Budapest, would you believe it, is only slightly further from Zurich than Calais, although when you take into account the Munich by-pass / building site, you can add on the equivalent of another 200 kms.

Are you one of those people who find packing straightforward? You take a few things, throw them into a case at the last minute and off you go. Or do you bring the suitcases up from the cellar one week before departure date, and start agonising and assembling the assorted belongings during the following days?

I compile lists. I love lists. Lists of things to be packed at the last minute; lists of things to do just before we leave; lists of things to do, preferably several days before we leave….and so on. Then of course, I compare these lists with a master list that I made up about 15 years ago, when we used to go camping. I am even working on a List of Lists.

Then there is the obsessive watching of the weather forecasts of the target holiday region. What sort of clothes should we take? How many umbrellas will we need? Will we need dry clothes or wet clothes? How many pairs of shorts should I take? (Why are they “pairs” of shorts?)

This June has been a particular problem as most weather forecasters have managed to be consistently incorrect. I don’t mean being incorrect one week out, but incorrect 12 hours out. Perhaps they have been unlucky. Perhaps the weather has been too volatile, with English cricket weather taking over the whole of Europe - a kind of metrological imperialism. Perhaps they are all taking their information from the same incorrect source, or even (and this has my son-in-law, Kevin’s, vote), they are all just plain incompetent.

Their incompetence has led to one day’s cycling being cancelled at the last minute and an earlier than planned return from the mountains, when our intended walk in the sunshine, would have been entirely in the clouds and rain.

Whatever the reason, the end result is the same. It is not possible to work out, with any precision, how many of anything you are going to need. For men, socks and handkerchiefs are not too hard; one for each day. Underpants, still not too hard, as most men can get away with slightly less than one per day. No sweepstake is being run here. (Does anyone own up to needing only one pair?) One pair of trousers is enough, although three will always be taken in case the statement / question, “You are not going to wear those the whole time, are you?” is raised.

Shirts are always a problem. After much agonizing, for this central European voyage, I settled on two sports shirts, six tee shirts, four round neck shirts, two casual long sleeved shirts, two smart ones (although I have no idea why, as I never wear them on holiday) and two smart short sleeved shirts, plus the one I wear the day we travelled. I think that this all adds up to nineteen shirts for twelve days.

Do you think that this was a bit over the top? (Anyway, it is all the weather forecasters’ fault, as Kevin might say).