samedi 6 octobre 2012

The Build Up to Leaving Bad Luck Britain


You know the build up has begun when lists are everywhere. Lists of every chore that is still yet to be done before making the big move. Lists which only ever get longer, rather than shorter. Lists which you have no desire to attack. Lists of tedious tasks such as banking, stocking up on prescriptions, seeing the dentist. Eventually, when only a couple of days remain, you are then forced to face the music, and sort your life out.
Feeling probably a bit too nonchalant, given that I am not unaccustomed to moving location, I thought I had definitely left enough time to sort out the necessaries. This was, however, without factoring in the spell of bad luck, which obviously, I must have been overdue.

I left England on a Thursday, and the Tuesday before, I had one of those days where EVERYTHING went wrong . The Monday was a Bank Holiday, so I couldn't try to sort out international banking or get my Euros. This didn't bother me tooo much, because that still left Tuesday. But not this time round. I went to the Post Office on the Tuesday, and due to a technical error it was shut. Great stuff.  However, I tried to take it in my stride, and with  only slight annoyance, I assured myself that  I could just sort my banking in town anyway and then drive 5 minutes down the road to the next Post Office.  Slight change of plan, but nothing life threatening.

A few shops down the road, I breezed into the bank I believing that, from the information on their website, they would give me international transfers for free. Oh no. It was only then I was informed me of the small print: you have to pay a monthly fee to get free transactions...(because of coursethat makes it...free??) So no banking sorted yet. Although this was annoying, this was not essential. So... Not. To. Worry.

Euros, however, are essential to living and settling in France. Unfortunately, at the (thankfully) open Post Office down the road, things did not go smoothly. When it came scraping the barrel of my pitiful  student account, for the hundreds of pounds I needed in liquid Euro, I hit a problem. One of the student/graduate's most dreaded phrases flashed up on the card reader:  "card declined". NOOOO!! I was relying on my disgustingly large overdraft to see me through, but I had forgotten that you had to arrange for such a large amount to come out all at once. Settling to exchange less money, I still managed to get some Euro notes. It would not be enough to live off until I receive my first pay cheque, but it would have to do for today. At this point, I let it go, and went off to London where I was meeting a couple of friends.

As I strolled through Hyde Park with a friend from Uni, I began to relax, trying to ignore these setbacks.  But I couldn't escape my Bad Luck Bug even in Hyde Park. One of my old housemates called to inform me that our student housing landlord had decided that he wasn't giving back our deposit, after having finally agreed that he would do following two months of dispute.  Not exactly the best news the same day your card gets declined. Still, I was lucky in that she kindly offered to take care of that, and have 'words' the following day. Surely now  Fate had had its way with me for one day, and I could relax knowing nothing else could go wrong. Oh no. After a call to my phone company, I learnt that they had kindly failed to mention that they had messed up transferring my contract to a pay as you go mobile, so I would still be paying £15 a month to be hardly using my English phone. With only one full day left in the country, things were starting to look tricky and stressful.

After some much needed Nandos and wine, I put the day, and myself to bed. Wednesday was my final full day in England, in which I had to pack, say goodbye to family, transfer my phone contract and get Euros. Luckily, after extending my overdraft, which made me want to cry inside, everything went a lot smoother . I packed, exchanged, transferred contracts, and managed to see some family. In the evening, to put the nail in the coffin of my Bad Luck,  I still had to endure a tooth filling at the dentist. I had been dreading this, but by the time I was lying back 'thinking of Barbados' in the dentist's chair, I had accepted my spell of bad luck. I just hoped that upon leaving Blighty, I would be leaving my Bad Luck behind.

Watch this space.

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