Monday 29 February 2016

My first car - a moving story

I remember very well when I passed my driving test.  I was the oldest in the class at 37 - everyone else was still in their teens.  The boys knew a frightening amount about car engines, the correct gear to drive up a steep hill, how to put in anti-freeze, stuff like that.
I went to driving school when I lived in Germany.  There was order, method and efficiency as you'd expect.  I had little trouble understanding the book of driving do's and don't's and the rules of the road.  But I was so timid that my driving was a disaster.  German roads are not a place to drive if you lack self confidence.  Unlike the UK, you do not have an "L" sign on your car to show that you are a novice and to incite pity when you conk out the engine on a roundabout or forget to turn off your indicator or any of those other things we all did from sheer nervousness and inexperience.   My driving instructor advised us all to visit Paris and sit and observe the traffic which flows around the Arc de Triomphe. There are no traffic lights, he said, and no general rules but there are also no accidents and except for shaking their fists and shouting abuse at each other, there is harmony among the drivers. 

I didn't own a car for quite a number of years after I got my driving licence.  I took the family car on short trips to the local supermarket, looking like a scared mouse on the road no doubt.  Then, when I had been working for a while and had a bit of credit at the bank, I bought a second-hand car.  It was a Renault 5, didn't have power-steering or anything like that, but it was small and - I fervently hoped - maneuvrable.  I can't park to this day - well I can but I have to have either a) loads of space or b) there's no one looking or even better c) I don't have time to think and simply fit into the parking space at the first try. 

Once I had got over the feeling that this couldn't be me, sailing along in my very own car, I enjoyed driving most of the time.  I loved the freedom it gave me.  Then one memorable Friday evening in January, many years ago,  as I was the last to leave the office, I looked out of the window and discovered that a snow storm was in full progress.  Panic would be too mild a word to describe how I felt.  I had never driven in deep snow, had only all-weather tyres.  I wasn't even sure my little Renault 5 would get me up the ramp from the parking garage.  I can proudly say that I underestimated my driving skills or to give it a more accurate name, my luck.  Because although the police were advising us over the radio to leave our cars and get public transport and it took me two-and-a-half hours to drive the five miles home, I did make it in one piece.  Which is more than can be said for the car immediately in front of me which got bogged down as we were crawling up a steep incline.  I had to move into even deeper uncharted snow to get past and my heart was pounding at double duty.  Not an easy task because this was where the road to the right branched off for the motorway.  My car did slip sideways and for a few horrible minutes I thought I was going to end up on that motorway but somehow I managed to keep straight on, overtake the stricken car, and continue on my way at a snail's pace.

That incident gave me more self-confidence that almost anything else.  Since then I have often had to battle with snow-covered roads but I never again experienced blind panic at the prospect.  And it made me a fan of small Renault cars forever.  Because of course I sold my beloved Renault 5 and moved on to the Twingo which proved to be just as efficient in snowy weather.

My heart still goes out to beginners when I see them struggling with gears, checking the mirrors, and all those other things that seasoned drivers do automatically.  I feel like going up to them, tapping the window and saying "look, if I can do it, you most certainly can".

Wednesday 24 February 2016

A time to slow down

I have just been reading in the the Sunday Times Style magazine about Joan Burstein who is the founder of Browns boutique and who, at the age of 90, has no intention of slowing down.  I have to salute this lady from the bottom of my (retired) heart. She was one of the first fashion scouts in the industry and with her eye for what constitutes style quickly became successful.

In the magazine she gives her guide to "looking fabulous at 90".  Most of her tips are commonsense but my favourite is "avoid mirrors".  Now that, dear readers, is something I would dearly like to be able to do.  Who hasn't bought a wonderful dress and gloated over it as it hung in the wardrobe only to put it on for that very special occasion and then catch sight of oneself in an honest mirror.  I say honest mirror because I reckon the ones in fitting rooms are not.  Of course, if you have the ideal body (which I have not) then you will look great in most clothes - that old t-shirt, those skinny jeans, that beautiful black dress.  So the best thing to do is not to look -  "avoid mirrors" as Joan Burstein so wisely says.  I once had a work colleague who would sometimes say "that's a beautiful dress - I know a girl who would look good in that."   Endearing kind of guy you might think but actually he was OK just a teeny bit insensitive.  I used to laugh but then I'd catch myself checking it out in a full-length mirror and reluctantly admitting that maybe this wasn't right for me.  It took me many years to realise how silly this was and develop a thick skin (as opposed to developing the body of a catwalk model).

Nowadays I buy and wear what I feel like.  I've made a few - quite a few - bad purchases, if you can call them that, and have accordingly traipsed around to the charity shops to donate them, so I reckon somebody gets the benefit. Let's face it, it's not the end of the world if what you're wearing would look better on a clothes-shop dummy.  People who are interested in you will look at your face, watch your eyes.   Would you prefer somebody to be pleased to see you or pleased that you're wearing Dior??   Gaylord Hauser I think it was who wrote that everyone is beautiful when they smile.  Not a bad motto  -  "Here's looking at you, kid."

Friday 12 February 2016

Mobile Phones, Stage Two

In case you're wondering - I have half mastered my android!  I did what I should have done in the first place - called the T... help line and asked if I could switch phone number and credit to my new SIM.  In my own defence, I should say that I did read the T..mobile site but they only gave advice on how to move the phone number from another provider and did not so much as hint that the credit could be transferred, too.  Anyway, a nice young man (this expression somehow always reminds me of Miss Marple in the Agatha Christie novels) listened to what I said even if he also got it backwards at first but when I'd explained again, he said no problem.  And no problem it was!!  Within 5 minutes my mobile number and my remaining credit were on my android.  Yippee.  Now all I have to get used to is the ultra sensitive touch screen - one false brush of the fingertip and .....!!!!!  Like to hear an example of what I mean?   I had to reset my Twitter password, mainly I suspect because of a malheur with typing it in initially.  But I'm getting there.

My contacts were not transferred but this is a blessing in disguise because I have names and numbers on there which I can't account for.  Who on earth is Carol C.???  or Joe scones???  Can't remember ever using those numbers for anything.  So I have been spring-cleaning and only tapping in those names which I know I will need. 

I can now sit on the bus and stare at my Twitter feed if I have a mind.  Only thing is, I much prefer people-watching and people-listening.  One of my favourite Dire Straits' songs has a line "all I can do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme".  Doesn't have to be like that.   Life is for living isn't it?




Tuesday 9 February 2016

Wonderful World of Mobile Phones

I'll admit it to anyone - I am not into mobile communication.  Computers yes, mobiles, no.
Many moons ago my daughter gave me one of her old mobiles.  It was simplicity itself and I had no great problem in using it.  When I retired to Ireland my son and daughter-in-law helped me choose a similar simple phone - with this one you could take pictures and make videos but that was about all.  Again it served my purpose.  But it did get a bit of a battering - I let it fall on the pavement a few times and there was a scratch on the display.  So last Saturday I bought a new phone, an android!   I wanted to keep my existing number and I also had some credit left (I'm a pay-as-you-go person) so I checked with the girl on the service desk of the store (it is a big store in UK and Ireland and the name starts with T...) and she said yes, of course, you just take the SIM card from your old phone and put it in this new one.
Hah!!  When I got home and sat down with my shiny new purchase, I discovered that the SIM in my old phone was too big for the android.  Eeek.  I checked on Google and this is apparently a normal sort of problem.  Cutting to size was advised.  I didn't fancy doing that myself but there is a shop in town which specialises in unlocking phones, repairing pcs, etc.  I popped down to him, thinking this would be a matter of 10 minutes.  But no, he said, he couldn't do that.  Go back to the provider.  He wouldn't advise cutting the SIM to size. 
So I went back to the provider who has a website.  I chatted online to someone who told me to get a SIM card to fit my android at the T... store and then my data could be transferred.  Eh??   I already had a SIM which fit the android, it came with it, after all!  Somewhat mystified I did as I was told and the girl at the store (very helpful) sold me a small SIM, opened my android and said "oh, you already have a SIM that fits".  Doesn't anyone ever listen any more??  Never mind, she said, call the service desk and they'll change the number and transfer your account. 


So now I have a new SIM card which cost me 5 Euros, which I'm not sure I needed, and when my patience and nerves have recovered, I will ring the customer help line.  On the website it just says that I could move my phone number to the new phone but does not say if I could take my contacts and credit with me.  And there's me thinking I'm out of touch with the wonderful world of mobiles.  No one gave me a straight answer to my questions.  I might as well have been talking to a robot each time and when I "pressed" the key word "SIM" and "keep number" I got a standard response but no one actually heard what I was asking.

In addition, when I had a look at my a shiny new android I felt I was being put in charge of a space station.  There are so many buttons and apps on the screen, you have to register here, there and everywhere.  Talk about lost!!  All I want to do is send and receive text messages, be able to make and receive calls, take some photos now and again - oh and maybe, just maybe use Twitter.  Is that too much to ask?  Hello - is there anyone out there?