Well here I am sitting in a hotel in Brighton. I don’t really want to be in this hotel, but such is the nature of privatised rail services and their bank holiday works than don’t work, or any sign of Government action in the face of a wind blowing stronger than 30 mph, I’m here and to be honest whether I like it or not is immaterial, because none of the bastards care.
So I thought, you know, got some time to kill, top up my nothing-could-be-easier-than-to-top-up-my-mobile pay as you go phones. I have O2 for France and Vodafone for the UK, and as I’m in the UK now on account of that’s where Brighton is it seemed wise to start there. I thought, 2 phones, max, 5 minutes each.
One hour and forty-five minutes later, I’ve given up. This narrative might help explain why. Continue reading