I've got to go to work tomorrow.
That will be 4 days in a row.
And that is the longest I have worked in 2011.
Bless this fine country, and their many many Bank Holidays.
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
Sunday, 13 March 2011
Car Insurance
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| Late for the start of American Idol, Katie took a rather unnecessary shortcut to the TV room. |
Last time I got car insurance, I was living in the UK, in Brixton to be precise, and the process took an age. The experience was like a bastard mix of Top Trumps with Top Gear:
Make and model? (Pause as I skim the manual) Peu-geot... 2-0-7.
On or off street parking? On street if I park in a rush, otherwise off. I'm crap at parking. Definitely on street if I'm reverse parking. I fluked one in the test, haven't managed one since.
Average miles per day/week/month/year?
For simplicity can we go with 1/7/30/365?
Engine size? Medium.
0-60? Both, but you've got to change gears or it makes a screamy sound.
Driving capacity? I'm pretty sure it's 2 units.
Registration and therefore car age? It's an X reg. Guaranteed that'll mean more to you than to me.
Fuel injection? Pump... people inject that stuff? I guess, with the price now...
Any claims in the last 5 years? Like you don't have everything I've ever done on your little screen there. I'm not giving you the satisfaction of repeating it. Not falling for that, thank you. Next?
Any claims involving injuries to third parties? Just read your screen, man!
Do you always check your mirrors before manuevre? Does checking-if-hairstyle-is-affected-by-open-window count? (Silence). Put 'yes'.
Any outstanding fines? Some unpaid. Don't get me wrong, I've had some 'good' fines, but truth be told nothing I could claim to be 'outstanding'.
What's the fastest you've ever clocked in a 30 zone? Now you're talking. About 32.
Ever hit and run? I learnt to drive in Liverpool. As they say there: if thay can run, yow can run.
Ever text while driving? What does everyone else put? They put 'no'. Good. 'No' from me it is.
OK, let me put in the figures... No we're not going to insure you. Good bye.
Now, in Argentina, the country with the worst driving accident rates in the world, I strapped myself in for what would inevitably be the insurance grilling of a lifetime: the Spanish version of Top Gear Trumps - Superior Triunfo Engranajes - the full extended edition.
The conversation went like this:
- OK, a few questions. I braced myself, best Spanish listening skills at the ready. Do you want full or third party insurance?
- Third party. Yes! 1 from 1.
- That's fine. And was the car made here or outside of Argentina?
- Um... outside... um... sorry?
- That's OK. OK, that'll be $195 a month. Any questions?
- No chance.
Sixty seconds, papers signed and job done. Who needs to know if you've got a history of dangerous driving or a car that's got functional brakes?
Keep it simple and do what the locals do: buy Argentine and crash into whoever the hell you feel like.
Friday, 11 March 2011
Que va a hacer?
What are you gonna do? A cracking and oft used saying in Argentina. The Argentine version of Forgetaboutit, I guess. I'm a sucker for idioms, but there are times, I must admit, when I find this one a bit defeatest. Irresponsible, even.
Today, for example. I was filling the car with petrol. The service station was on the corner of two roads, and some idiot, waiting at the lights, decided to use the forecourt to cut the corner, thus avoiding the lights, like he was Steve McQueen from Gone In 60 Seconds.
This caused appropriate condemnation from all on the forecourt as we collectively vented our rage at such a selfish, impatient boludo. There's kids around here, we shouted, mostly to each other, whatever next? Man, this country's going to the dogs! That was the gist.
Upon which, all eyes seemed to fall on one car parked very close to the incident, the driver of which was leaning against the bonnet, smoking. Eyes fell on him partly because he had reacted so much less strongly than everyone else, partly because he was breaking possibly the only Healthy and Safety Law in the entire country - no naked flames in a petrol station - but I think mostly because he was a police man.
And as all eyes fell on him, he seemed to feel he must offer something to his new found audience. And thus speaketh the man, with a shrug of the shoulders:
Que va a hacer?
Maybe defeatest is bang on the money?
Today, for example. I was filling the car with petrol. The service station was on the corner of two roads, and some idiot, waiting at the lights, decided to use the forecourt to cut the corner, thus avoiding the lights, like he was Steve McQueen from Gone In 60 Seconds.
This caused appropriate condemnation from all on the forecourt as we collectively vented our rage at such a selfish, impatient boludo. There's kids around here, we shouted, mostly to each other, whatever next? Man, this country's going to the dogs! That was the gist.
Upon which, all eyes seemed to fall on one car parked very close to the incident, the driver of which was leaning against the bonnet, smoking. Eyes fell on him partly because he had reacted so much less strongly than everyone else, partly because he was breaking possibly the only Healthy and Safety Law in the entire country - no naked flames in a petrol station - but I think mostly because he was a police man.
And as all eyes fell on him, he seemed to feel he must offer something to his new found audience. And thus speaketh the man, with a shrug of the shoulders:
Que va a hacer?
Maybe defeatest is bang on the money?
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
Men and Boys
I was doing some weeding on the terrace. I'd built up both a sweat and an impressive pile of weeds. It was hot so I was wearing a hat, which at the time I thought was incidental.
Leah wandered out and, seeing my endeavour, made an appreciatively loud Ooohhh I'm impressed type of noise. Emboldened by the fact that she was clearly impressed by the sort of figure her green-fingered father cut, I ventured further, seeking yet more adoration for such exploits.
- Yeah, Leah. What do you think? I self-agrandised.
- It's amazing, she replied, playing into my self-agrandising hands.
- What in particular? I milked.
- You're wearing a hat. This was a little deflating. What about the weeds? The toil of the soil, Leah?
- A hat, she repeated, a little bemused. A pause, as if to clarify her thoughts.
- Like a man.
Leah wandered out and, seeing my endeavour, made an appreciatively loud Ooohhh I'm impressed type of noise. Emboldened by the fact that she was clearly impressed by the sort of figure her green-fingered father cut, I ventured further, seeking yet more adoration for such exploits.
- Yeah, Leah. What do you think? I self-agrandised.
- It's amazing, she replied, playing into my self-agrandising hands.
- What in particular? I milked.
- You're wearing a hat. This was a little deflating. What about the weeds? The toil of the soil, Leah?
- A hat, she repeated, a little bemused. A pause, as if to clarify her thoughts.
- Like a man.
Saturday, 5 March 2011
Saturday, 26 February 2011
Pros and Cons of Life in Argentina
Cons: getting stuff fixed.
It is simply not worth complaining about the fact that our kitchen hot tap snapped off. Because getting it fixed would entail calling the maintenance of the building to check the tap. They'd then call their regular plumber, who'll get his mate to call the school who rent the flat for permission to complete the work. The school wil recognise the problem, but will call their plumber, without telling the plumber caller, to fix the tap. The school will then call maintenance asking them to cancel their plumber and use their pumber who'll come here but be sent away by maintenance in place of their plumber who'll come here - next week and without notice- not to fix the tap but to shout at us about being 'disloyal to the building'... All the aforementioned plumbers will be called Juancito and they will all look a bit like Maradona.
Best do it yourself and use a retro-tap (aka a spanner).
Pros:
On the plus side, you could just go outside anytime during the 'rainy season'...
It is simply not worth complaining about the fact that our kitchen hot tap snapped off. Because getting it fixed would entail calling the maintenance of the building to check the tap. They'd then call their regular plumber, who'll get his mate to call the school who rent the flat for permission to complete the work. The school wil recognise the problem, but will call their plumber, without telling the plumber caller, to fix the tap. The school will then call maintenance asking them to cancel their plumber and use their pumber who'll come here but be sent away by maintenance in place of their plumber who'll come here - next week and without notice- not to fix the tap but to shout at us about being 'disloyal to the building'... All the aforementioned plumbers will be called Juancito and they will all look a bit like Maradona.
Best do it yourself and use a retro-tap (aka a spanner).
Pros:
On the plus side, you could just go outside anytime during the 'rainy season'...
... pity about Thursday 3rd, mind. Best plan a movie day.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Quote of the Week
Quote of the week:
The scene. Leah, in the morning, about to go to jardín. Maia, quietly, playing on the carpet.
The jardín asks that kids bring only one toy each day, hence choosing the one morning toy is a cute, if occassionally problematic, part of the morning routine.
Katie: "OK, Leah, do you want to choose a toy?"
Leah: "Ooooooooo - YES!"
Katie: "OK, which one?"
Leah: "Hmm... I think..."
Leah casts her eyes across a seemingly endless expanse of teddies, bags, dolls...
"...maybe..."
Something catches her eye. Mentally, she has made her decision.
"I will take... "
Finally, she points, decisively:
"Maia."
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