Friday, December 31, 2010

Cars I hate

I don't know why but there are some cars out there that I really hate with a vengeance. There is no logical reason for this that I can think of but every time I see one of these nasty things I'm instantly filled with loathing for it and and a strong associated dislike for the people in it.

Top of my list has to be the Land Rover Discovery. My whole mood changes when I see one of those ugly great things and dream of having some kind of laser guided weapon at my disposal so I could blow the thing to peices. To me they just look like huge metallic garden sheds on wheels, usually making a racket from their rattly and smokey old diesels. To make matters worse they invariably seem be be driven by drivers who seem to think they own the road and therefore have the right to cut up anyone they so choose. And they usually do.

Almost all Peugeots have a somewhat similar effect on me because they're just such unattractive cars, and seem to be driven by people who constantly weave in and out of the traffic. How could anyone possible think they look good. It's like the designers (not great ones - obviously)  must have purposely set out to create the most boringly unattractive range of cars imaginable.

Other cars that bring out the worst in me are Lexus's with gold colored badges which has to be the tackiest thing anyone ever thought of. All bottom of the range Japanese cars always look stupid because their wheel arches are always too big - or is it that the wheels are just too small? Any car with a "baby on board" label (or similar) in the back window has instantly deemed its owner a major idiot in my eyes.

Finally any car with an after-market kit fitted will almost always just look so stupid it will therefore make it's owner look even more so. Why can't people just leave cars looking the way their designers intended - they might still not look great but they will always look better than they do after a few kilos of ill fitting fibre-glass and plastic have been wrapped around their extremities.

Oh, almost forgot, older Renault Scenics and Citroen Picassos. Apart from being ugly little things they invariably seem to be driven by self righteous mothers who are quite happy to ding your doors so long as their little brats can get in and out OK.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Fat people flying

Apparently we're allowed to call fat people "fat people" again after years of being told we had to call them obese. I have nothing against fat people but if they're allowed to call me skinny and that's OK then I don't see what I can't call them fat and that's OK too. So good - it keeps things nice and simple.

We were booking some tickets on Ryan Air, for the first time, this week and one of the extras it seems you have to pay for - actually everything is an extra with them - is your baggage. You have to decide if you will take a 15Kg or a 20Kg bag priced at £15 or £20 respectively. This got me thinking about how unfair this idea of how much baggage weight you are allowed actually is.

I weigh about 75Kg, so assuming I decide to go with the 15 Kg bag allowance I will be adding 90Kg to the weight of the airplane in total. However next up is Mr Fatso who already weighs 120Kg and also goes for the 15Kg allowance - total weight he's adding to the airplane is 135Kg which is exactly 50% more than me.

Is he paying more than me? No he's not. Is that fair? I don't think so!

If airlines have are going to charge me for my luggage based on what it weighs, then I think it's only fair that they charge their passengers using the exact same criteria. I think something like 120Kg comprising of both the passenger and their baggage as a standard would be fair - anything more than that and you have to start paying extra.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Ouch!

I spent most of this Saturday cooking burgers and sausages at the Simon Says BBQ - a charity for bereaved kids that Sheila works for. There was lots of stuff there for the kids to play with when they weren't eating my lovely food including a lot of space hoppers. After all the eating was done and people were starting to pack up and leave I thought I'd give a helping hand by passing stuff up towards the people who were collecting all the toys.

For some unaccountable reason, instead of just kicking the space hopper towards the guys collecting them up, it seemed like a good idea to grab it by one of the handles and throw it - really hard - in their direction. However instead of hurtling off in a forward direction as planned, I let go of it a bit too late and it just shot up into the air in what seemed like an ever increasing trajectory. I remember wondering how high it would go, and more importantly, where would it land. At one point I estimated, wrongly, that it might land on the head of one cocky looking kid who was clearly in need of a surprise from above.

As it gained speed and got closer to planet earth it became clear that it was, rather oddly, going to land very close to me just as I noticed two small boys standing about three feet away. They were standing face to face innocently minding their own business and talking to each other.  Bam! The space hopper shot down right between the two of them, hitting each on the head and shoulder. They understandably both looked completely dazed, shocked, and thoroughly confused by what had just happened. Uncharacteristically I was immediately concerned for their wellbeing but happily, although clearly stunned by their ordeal, they both said they were OK.

All too quickly my concern turned to amusement as I could hardly contain the laughter caused by the looks on their confused little faces.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

The British in France (and probably other places too)

It is us or can everyone spot British people a mile off? Every day without fail on a recent trip to France we'd spot at least one British family or couple out and about and it was invariably an embarrassing event. It would go like this. We'd see a couple approaching, man carrying plastic bag full of stuff, wearing sandals, black socks; British. Family on a beach making a lot of noise, all look a bit scruffy; British. Couple in restaurant, woman ordering in very loud voice to a waiter who clearly can't understand; English.

We British always seem to single ourselves out for all the wrong reason. We all to often are too noise, too scruffy, and too annoying. But why?

We even found we could spot Brits on appearance only. Fat woman with skinny man, woman too sunburned for comfort, man in cravat, couples aimlessly walking around looking fazed or confused, family having a poorly conceived picnic using bread roles that they clearly nicked form their hotel at breakfast time. Oh my god! It can be so embarrassing to think that we are possibly going to be associated to these people in any way.

The weirdest thing we saw was in a restaurant one night when a group of Irish (almost British) people came and started off by telling the waiter they didn't want any food that had garlic in it - not easy or likely in France. They then proceeded to ask for various menu items using an odd mixture of English, French, and for some reason, German. In fact at one point they got quite angry with the waiter when she couldn't understand what they meant when they were screaming "wasser, wasser" to her when they wanted some more water. They could have at least looked it up in a phrase book, but no, they just spent the next five minutes complaining about how stupid she must be for not understanding them.

Europeans must hate us - but probably not our money!

Friday, June 18, 2010

Being in France

There's something really great about being in France and it can be quite difficult to figure out why because in lots of ways it's not so different to being in Southern England. The countryside is certainly quite similar especially in Normandy and Brittany, although further East, on the other side of Paris, I think it's even better. The culture in not so different and in fact many parts of the North West are even closer to the UK, possibly just because of the proximity.

I think one of the key things that makes it so good is the language. I love the fact that you can overhear lots of conversations and never have a clue what they are about. I love the fact that you see signs everywhere that you don't really fully understand. And I love the way you feel detached from the general activity. But at the same time as all this you can blend in and can understand just enough that that you never feel fully detached.

The fact that the French seem to have a different attitude to cars is interesting to me. They don't seem to generally attach the same status value to them that we do in the UK and are happy to drive around in cheap little hatchbacks crammed full of stuff when clearly a bigger car would make much more sense. Prestige German cars although very common in the UK are a rarity in France, and sports cars are even rarer. When I last took my SLK to France it regularly attracted an audience whenever I lowered or raised the roof - it wouldn't get a second look here.

Towns and villages are generally much cleaner and prettier than they are here and it's rare to see any rubbish. I really don't understand why they are so much better at this than us. But I did see quite a few people around actually picking up cigarette ends and throwing them in bins - that alone makes a big difference.

French plumbing is a scream. The fact that some of it works at all is a miracle and in our experience it rarely works in the way that it aught to. We've stayed in some really nice places only to find that the plumbing is right out of the dark ages and totally out of character with the rest of the place.

A big contributing factor as to why the towns and villages look so much nicer seems to be that homes, new ones especially, are much more individual than they are over here. In some places, and even on a new development, there are so many different variations that you're never aware that there are two the same.

It's just strange to me that somewhere that is superficially so similar the UK can actually seem to be so different and exciting. Maybe it's simply just the lack of British people :-)

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Honda vs Mercedes - which is best?

We used to have two sensible but boring cars until 2000 when we decided it made much more sense to have one really fun car and one super practical car. So I bought a brand new Mercedes-Benz SLK and four months later Sheila bought an ex demonstrator Honda HRV with only 1000 miles on the clock. The SLK cost £30K and the HRV cost £14K.

Almost 10 years on it seemed like it would be interesting to try and decide which one has been, and is now the best, even though they are very different cars.

The SLK is of course a 150mph two seater sports car with a fully retractable metal roof while the HRV is a part-time 4X4 that can carry four passengers and quite a lot of stuff. Both are automatics as we hate all that gear shifting lark. Both cars now have approximately 70K miles on their clocks.

Looking back through all the servicing receipts the Honda has cost more for the straight services, so a point to the Mercedes. However the SLK has been through three sets of tyres while the HRV is still on it's second set, so a point to the Honda.

Both cars have had warranty claims although the value of the Mercedes claims were massive by comparison - a new steering wheel and airbag at £650, a new set of wheels at £1200, new trim parts at £250, and some repainting at approx £350. There were also a few other very minor odds and ends. The Honda on the other hand needed a new stereo at about £150, new transmission (when it was 8 years old!) at £600 and that's about it. A point to Honda.

The Mercedes has really fallen down on parts that have worn out. It's had a new central locking control unit, new rear suspension, new front brakes and disks, new brake sensors, new gas struts, a new rear light unit, new number plates, and new a/c compressor. The Honda needed a new sensor in the fuel injection and that's it. Another point to Honda.

The Mercedes still looks great and I get a lot of complements about it's condition, but in reality it's beginning to need some attention here and there to keep it in A1 condition although it still drives like new. The Honda gets a rougher life and has quite a few dings from supermarket car parks, and heavily used interior, but it's holding up well and is still a nice car to drive. Both cars have been 100% reliable to date.

Finally there are the intangibles. The feeling you get from diving each car on a daily basis, the feeling you get when you see it in the drive, and the fun you get from each on a sunny day or a long trip. The Mercedes scores big here because it's really two cars in one, a two seater coupe one minute and a two seater convertible the next, it has amazing performance and handling, and attracts a lot of admiring looks especially on a sunny day with the roof down. The Honda is a practical car and one of the pack so definitely doesn't attract the same sort of attention. It's performance is lively and fun but not exactly exciting and it's handling is probably typical for a car of it's type.

I like both cars a lot but if I had to choose then the SLK would win hands down but not because it's the better product. I get a buzz from driving it, a buzz from looking at it, and a buzz from knowing that I own it. However if I look at this from a completely practical view then of course the Honda wins hands down on both cost of ownership and because it's probably better made and hasn't needed a lot of replacement parts like the Mercedes.

But of course, a good product and practicality isn't what owning a car is necessarily all about.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Obertauern skiing - begining to end

Arrival
I think sitting in an airplane at 35,000 feet, and feeling somewhat deprived of oxygen, really brings out the best and the worst of me. As I sit on this Monarch Airlines flight (AKA bargain basement travel) from London to Salzburg, all I can think about is all the screaming babies that just won't stop, the incontinent kids who seem to need a trip to the bathroom every 3 minutes, and the fact that the parents of these snotty little kids seem to be under the misapprehension that I like them just as much as they do. How wrong they are. I guess I have to admit though that I'm not being at all charitable to my fellow passengers who, of course, have every right to be on the same plane as me even though they are hacking me off every time they so much as move a muscle. If I'm honest most of my fellow passengers are OK and do not bother me one bit even though many unwittingly do give me a huge amount of enjoyment as I watch them struggle with the most simple of things. And there's nothing quite like looking at the expression on the face of a seasoned air hostess as another stupid passenger complains endlessly because they didn't get their vegitarian or vegan meal despite having ordered it 11 months ago, when she clearly doesn't give a monkeys.

I also said this brings out the best of me, because, for some reason, I seem to be in a position to think more clearly, and cynically, about everything that's happening around me, and I like that.

We arrived in Salzburg after almost two hours on what felt like a flight through hell.

Day One
We fell out of the hotel at an amazing 9:30 and slid off down the road to the bridge across main road and onto the main piste. After a relatively straight forward run down towards the gondola we were faced with having to pole along for the last 200 meters – not a great start to the day but hey ho. Having arrived at the top of the gondola we were greeted with a white-out with little idea of where we were going, either mentally or in reality. The map wasn't much help. It was a case of aiming down hill, not going too fast, and keeping our fingers crossed. We arrived safely at the bottom with no incidents whatsoever and headed off to meet up with our ski guide who would show us all round the resort for most of the day. His name was Alex, he was from Southport, and was in Obertauern for his first season as a ski instructor after being made redundant at home. Anyway he was a nice guy and took us round the entire Tauernrunde and had lunch with us too. It was a great day despite the weather not really being as nice as we'd hoped, but for the main part it was clear, sometimes bright, and not too cold. Best of all we didn't have to stand in line once all day. Sheila had skied enough at about 3:30 but I couldn't resist one more run down from the top of the gondola – it was still just as foggy as it was first thing!

Met up with some others in the the Tyroller Keller for a beer and a chat at 5:00pm. Cor (the Inghams rep) gave us a load of information about the place that we may, or may not, need during our stay.

Day two
I started the day by realizing that I'd broken my ski glasses yesterday! I must have done it when I fell, but I was still pretty hacked off. I would have just skied in my regular sunglasses but they were pretty expensive and have metal frames so I didn't want to take the chance, but luckily Sheila's regular sunglasses fitted the bill and she was happy for me to use them. We got out of the hotel at a planned 9.45 and met Keith (a fellow Ingham's guest) at the top of the run down to the gondola. Sheila waited at the bottom while we went up the gondola and skied down before we all headed off up the chairlift to all the south facing slopes. We basically spent the day doing the same runs as yesterday plus many of the ones we missed out on because the weather wasn't so great. No such problems today as the weather was absolutely perfect. Cobalt blue sky, about -6 or -6 degrees and no wind, and even better, still no lines anywhere. Stopped for lunch at the same place as yesterday and realized we'd broken another pair of glasses - this time readers. Spent the last part of the afternoon working our way back to the hotel and called it a day at about 3:30.

Went out for a hot chocolate and apple strudel and scoured the sports shops for a new pair of ski glasses. Managed to find a nice pair at the last place we stopped at; mission accomplished.

On the third day
No breakages, that we're aware of today, just very sore muscles and too many early starts. But you've got to make the most of the time and so once again we got out of the hotel at a planned 9.45 and didn't meet Keith (fellow Ingham's guest) at the top of the run down to the gondola. He wasn't there at 10:00 so we headed off without him. So that meant that Sheila and I would probably have the day to ourselves and that's exactly how it was. We skied together most of the time except for lunchtime when she wanted to stop, so I did a few runs on my own – I think I went all the way up and back down 3 times and a couple of half ways as well, so I really crammed it in. Didn't really have lunch as such but we did make a couple of stops for drinks and snacks. We skied a bit more together before completing the circuit and coming back to the hotel just before 4pm. The weather was pretty idyllic again today – same cobalt blue skies, but a much cooler -9 or -10 with a bit of wind that really did start feeling cold after about 2:30pm. The new ski glasses were good except I'm not sure I had them on right – I think my hat was trying to push them off my nose so I'll try to sort that out for tomorrow.

Superb meal in the hotel, too much to drink, and early to bed.

Day four
The weather wasn't looking so good today. It was overcast and the light looked very flat, but it was bright, and it wasn't snowing. We got out on time again and Keith was waiting for us at the bridge across the road, so we quickly headed off and started by going up the Sonnenbahn lift that took us up to the wide open area that Sheila likes. We decided that she would ski on her own for an hour and we'd go off and get to do some difficult reds and blacks, which we did and a lot of fun they were too. As the weather wasn't so great it seemed generally quieter today so the snow was holding up very well. We stopped for a drink well ahead of the pack and we were back out again just as the ski schools were stopping – perfect timing! By now though it had started snowing and it was steadily falling harder as the afternoon went on. Sheila quit after we'd all skied down from the top of the Zehnnerbahn but I, despite the rapidly deteriorating weather, carried on for another hour. This may not have been one of my best ideas because it really was snowing heavily by now and the light was so flat that at times it was almost impossible to see what I was skiing into and across, as a consequence I must have looked like a complete idiot on one of the first run down as I lurched from one disastrous mistake to another. Luckily we ended the day with a really nice cruisey blue run all the way from the top of the mountain that flattered our skiing and made up for the previous near catastrophes.

Day five
Got out on time again, although more easily today for some reason, and met Keith as before. The weather was looking a bit changeable with snow coming down and the light very flat, but the sun didn't look too far away and there was a chance things might improve; the temperature was about -11. We followed pretty much the same route as yesterday and headed off up the Sonnenbahn and then up to the Treff 2000 restaurant. The snow was very variable. There had clearly been a lot of new snow overnight and most of it didn't look as if it had been pisted so it was quite difficult to know what you were skiing on until you were actually on it. Coupled with the very flat light it was difficult to ski very confidently at all, although after about 11:00 the light did start to improve significantly to the point where it was pretty good and gave us all a lot more confidence. We stopped in the Hockalm for a hot chocolate at 11:30 and when we came out it really was getting good and we were all skiing much better so decided to stay out for another run down from the top of the gondola. That was both good and bad. Good because it's a nice long run but bad because the conditions were quite tough – both snow and light. Anyway it can't have been so bad because as soon as we got to the bottom I did it all over again, but that was it, my legs were done and I had to call it quits for the day.

I met Sheila back at the hotel before we got the bus that would take us to Mauterndorf about 20 minutes away. It was a nice little place with a lot of very nice old buildings, some modern but traditional style hotels, and some small shops. Had a massive lunch of Weiner schnitzel and a beer before a stroll around town and finally getting the bus back at 4:00 (precisely).

Last day
Got out a little earlier today – must be that last day mentality that says I've got to make the most of it! The weather didn't actually look that great. It was very cold, snowing a bit, and there was a lot of low cloud. We headed up the Sonnenbahn lift but actually by the time we got to the top everything was looking a lot better, the sun was trying really hard to peep through and the snow had stopped falling. The snow was in great shape and must have been bashed down well the previous night. The pistes were very flat with just a few centimetres of fresh snow on top – perfect. Strangely it seemed quieter today than yesterday so that coupled with such good conditions made for an excellent day. We skied together all day and made a couple of stops for drinks and food. On the second stop we just couldn't resist sharing a Tyroller Grostl for the first time this week - fantastic. At the end of the afternoon we headed back to the gondola as we wanted to ski down the Gamsleiten 1 run that'd we've skied so many times in the past. Unfortunately it had turned really cold and windy by the time we got there so to be honest it was more like and endurance test than the fun experience we'd hoped for. That was our cue to call it a day and so we headed on down to bridge 5, took off our skis for the last time, and hit the Qubar. A couple of Glueweins later we went over to the bar in the hotel and polished of a plateful of kiesserschmarn each before heading up to the room to think about doing some packing.

Conclusion
After a short debate, we decided that while the USA may have a better lift system and organisation, France the big resorts and great food, and Switzerland those picture perfect looks, there really isn't anywhere that can put it all together and do a ski vacation quite like Austria.

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

Too much water and too much snow

As there was a lot of snow forecast for our area this evening I, and most of my colleagues, decided to leave work early so we could beat the traffic chaos that would definitely be caused by even the slightest amount of the white stuff landing on the ground. I was feeling quite pleased with myself as I arrived home just as the snow started to fall.

However, when I got indoors it was clear that all was not well. apparently something had gone wrong with the hot water tank upstairs earlier in the day and had flooded the cloakroom! Sheila had called Southern Gas and they were on their way to fix the problem despite the impending bad weather. Not bad eh, but then I do have to pay about £400 a year for the privilege!

The man arrived bang on when he promised, was here for an hour, and according to plan the problem was fixed. So far so good. However the new problem was that while he was here the snow was just falling out of the sky like crazy and we now had about 10cm on the drive. He was determined to get his van out and the snow was doing it's best to stop him. Having tried to back it out the darned thing became stuck so we had to spend almost an hour digging it out, moving it back and forth, and digging some more before we eventually got it up the drive and onto the main road that oddly was blocked in the direction he didn't want to go, and completely empty the way he did. Amazing.