Tenants see

Bee boy got a new phone for Christmas. I know this because late morning my land line phone rang. You see as well as skype on my computer, I also have an Orange internet land line.
Anyway I looked at the number and it did not start with the pesky 09 of the number which keeps phoning to sell me something, so I picked up.
Hello I said.
Hello, this is your neighbour Daveed…
I am wondering how he got my phone number but I wait for him to continue

Could I go and look at the parking as he was in Toulouse and had lost his mobile phone. It might be near where his car had been parked.
Find my keys, put on shoes, down two flights of stairs, front door not closed or locked (sigh). Down path and steps, look at snow near car shaped bare patches. Try different angled approaches, no it’s not there, wait a minute, there is a bump lying under other bumps of snow.
You are lucky I say, still clutching my portable land line phone.
Does it still work he asks. I do not know I say.
He will ring off and phone his mobile. I cut my connection and wait. The mobile rings. It is him. Could I put his phone in his studio, his door is unlocked….

15 October 2008 Wednesday – The end of the beginning

Today was the day of reckoning and the builders would be returning late afternoon to finish off the trunking and to give me my account for payment.
I get the emulsion paint out and do a first coat on the new wallpaper that I hung yesterday, plus touched up some other areas needing a lift.
I tackled my blog entry for the art exhibition. Just like the day before, the photos and text would not stay in the position that I wanted. After over an hour I just had to publish it as it was.
The paint was still drying so I tackled another outstanding issue. My orange internet/telephone/TV package account. I managed to log myself onto the system and was delighted to find that I owed them nearly £230. They haven’t taken any monthly payments off me yet, and my free calls that I thought I was getting have cost me £50 so far. The builders arrived and the usual greetings ensued. “Is everything well” they enquired. I said that no everything was not well and explained about my unexpected phone bill. The builder reads my orange documentation, his son gets involved too and eventually we log in to another part of the system and I find that the option for free calls to land lines in Europe, that I thought I was paying 7 euros a month for, was not enabled. It took more poring over the documentation before the required password was located and I added the option to my package.
It was about 6pm by this time and the builders very kindly said that they would install my heated towel rail for me for free, which was very kind of them.
It took them quite a while, but by the time it was installed I had signed copies of the 3 accounts, (something about claiming back VAT or paying less VAT due to it being restoration work on an old property? Something else to add to my “I must find out about that” pile) and written them a cheque.
So phase one is completed.
The builder will return next week to look at the downstairs studio dampness and ventilation issues, the shonky stair treads on the main staircase, the leaking pipework under the building…. Will I be in? he asks. A tricky one to answer as he is vague about date and time.

Following on from my visit to the art exhibition on Sunday, the builder’s wife has very kindly invited me for a meal at their house. I have not got good eyesight and driving along twisting narrow, un illuminated roads in the dark would be a real nightmare for me.
The problem with this weekend is that I am going to be away on the choir outing on Saturday and Sunday. I had to show them the outing instructions. A discussion ensues about where the place that I am going is. The builder says that it is north and I say it is south west. So maps and the Internet have to be consulted etc.
I think that I am now going to lunch at their house on a future date to be arranged.
How many of you have been invited to your builder’s house for a meal? Things are certainly different here and the people all seem to be really nice and friendly.
By the time they left I just had time to make something to eat, get my choir stuff ready, tidy up a bit before heading for the door. The full moon was shining above the castle and it was a very mild evening. Fancy not having taken my camera to choir practice!
Choir was tough having missed last weeks practice and my throat was still playing up. The higher notes especially made me cough.

I handed over another cheque. This time to cover the weekend outing costs.
Practice finally ended at 10.45pm and as usual my head was buzzing.
As I approached the house, I could see that the studio tenant still had the light on and the window open. As I climbed the stairs there was a dreadful smell of burnt cooking. I hope that that was all it was, as a previous tenant of that studio managed to char the wood panelling . I finally in a cooking incident. I switch off the light at 1.30am hoping sleep would come. Of course it doesn’t.

14.8.08 Thur Oranges are not the only fruitcake

I head off to the SFR/ Orange shop and wait in the queue. Eventually I am first in the queue and a sylph like blonde in her early 20’s deals with me. I struggle with the French and eventually it turns out that she speaks very good English. Brilliant!
Well not really. She pushes buttons on her computer. The screen indicates that there is a fault with my system. No, surely not?
She disappears out the back of the shop. When she returns, she wants me to bring in my livebox so that they can test it.
I walk back home and return with the box. The weather is now very hot, and I join the queue again. A different assistant hooks up my box and tests it. After 10 minutes the verdict is the the box works ok so it must be my system. I have to phone a four digit number for technical assistance. There is nothing more that they can do. I explain that as my home phone is an internet based one, that until I have internet access it will be difficult for me to phone for technical support.
Back home I phone the support number on my British mobile at megabucks a minute and it’s multiple option time in rapid French. I am in a queue. When someone comes on the line and I have explained my situation. I need to redial and choose option 1 for technical support (this is what I have already done). I thank her and redial.
I am in a queue. When a lady answers, I explain my situation again. She cannot understand me. If there is nobody there who speaks French, she is unable to help me. However she thanks me for calling orange telecom and hopes that I have a good day.
I go downstairs and ask Madame if she can assist me with Orange. She phones and speaks to someone, then speaks to someone else. The shop assistants have given me the wrong information. I require a technician to come to the house to set up my internet connection. This will cost me approx £45. I’ll take it. They can send someone out next Tuesday afternoon….. Once I have internet access sorted it will only be a further 5 days until I will have a phone service….
Madame rolls her eyes at Orange. No one uses them because they are rubbish and expensive. She is not surprised at the situation that I have found myself in.
Chatting to Madame, about various issues, she can recommend an insurance company for health, public liability and car cover. She will also accompany us on Monday next week to have a look at second hand cars.

I telephone the lady that sold us the house and she gives me the name of a plumber. She is driving but gives me an approximation of his name (as it turns out) and that it is up a road near to a “named” hotel.
We set off and wander the streets.


We find an office which appears to be open, on one of the side streets. The sign above it contains a word beginning with P, but is different to the spelling I have been given. There is a young lady sitting at a big desk towards the back of the room. I engage her in conversation. I am looking for a plumber I say I explain that the is a plumber I am look ing for looks Chinese or Vietnamese, does she know of anyone matching the description. No. After a bit of further conversation, she asks me if he is asiatique. I say yes. She does know him.
It turns out that this is his business office after all, although there is nothing visible in it to suggest any relation to plumbing. This is going to be another long haul.
After some confusion between the plafond and the plancher. (She cannot work out how my toilet can be leaking onto my ceiling, she obviously knows nothing)
Using a pen and a bit of paper, I try to explain that I want a new toilet and wash hand basin for the bathroom. She then asks me to follow her, and sets off towards a small room in the back…..
This turns out to contain the staff toilet and she explains what the various bits are called. No school doobleavay-cay for the French, just vay-cay.

Making an appointment for a devis (quote) increases in difficulty as no one wants to phone a UK mobile number, and my fixed line, isn’t.
I think that he might be coming on Monday, but I am not sure…
Once back home, I telephone her. I have to phone after Monday to arrange an appointment.