Appropriate or Not?

Today I have compiled a list of appropriate and inappropriate things from my tiny world in Australia.

Inappropriate

Fire Exit

Since moving into this hostel, I've been plagued by the emergency exit sign in my bedroom. Harmless by day, this wired-in non-switch-off-able menace emits a bright green glow that fills every corner of the room with its erie luminations in an effort to prevent any kind of meaninful sleep. My requests to disable it fell on deaf ears: "we legally have to keep it switched on for health and safety".

The best part? It points at a wooden door that's bolted on both sides. A great bet for escaping in the event of fire. Much better than the double patio doors that lead directly outside, just on the other side of the room.


Targeted Advertising

I've been using a popular calorie-counting website to keep track of what I've been eating during my weight loss plan. Of course the website relies on selling advertising space. So what would be an appropriate targeted advert to see on this site, frequented by people trying to lose weight by only eating strictly healthy foods? Perhaps some health-related companies, body-building sites or links to exercise DVDs?

No, this is what I saw when I logged in:

Quality Street and Coca Cola. Just what I want to see.

Appropriate

Remember the Thyme

Yesterday I decided to make a potato, brie and thyme pizza according to this recipe: http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/260616/potato-brie-and-thyme-pizza
I went to the local supermarket to pick up the ingredients and, after having walked up and down each aisle, thought to myself, 'I'm sure there's something I've forgotten'.

I went to queue at the tills. As I stood waiting I noticed the music being played over the the supermarket's sound system: Michael Jackson's 'Remember the Time'. I dashed back to the herb section...

That concludes today's list of appropriate and inappropriate things.

A Hobo Abroad

The thing about being homeless is no-one wants to talk to you. They stare a bit and they acknowledge you in their facial expressions, but those wrinkled brows are less a sign of concern for your welfare, more of disgust at having a smelly old bag lady in their town.

"Push off, this is my bus stop, I was 'ere first. G'ron."

So this was the day I had to check out of my hotel in Saint-Savin and wait. And wait. And wait.



I had my suitcase full of dirty clothes, my handbag full of receipts and, thankfully, a warm winter coat.

So I started on a stone bench in the car park. Then it got cold so I moved to a wooden bench a little further out where there was more sun. Then it got windy so I did a bit of dancing on the spot and walking round and round my suitcase. Then it rained a bit so I dragged my bags up the hill to the Intermarche. Which was closed but at least had a porch to shelter under.

At 3pm the Intermarche opened so I bought some food and took it back down the hill to the wooden bench. A street cleaner came past. Then it really started raining so I transfered to a bus shelter.

(If you're having fun reading this, just imagine living the thrills!)

Finally the telephone rang and I was told that my campervan needs a new ignition switch. "Well I've known that since Friday", I replied, "aren't we waiting for it to arrive?". No, apparently we were waiting to be 100% sure before making suchg a serious financial investment (a whole 15 Euros, dontcha know), so the garage was ordering it today.



The RAC man then said he was going to book me back into the hotel I'd been hanging around outside of all day. I wasn't keen. So now they've sent me up to a new hotel in Poitiers which has a bed and heating and WiFi and above all close proximity to Futuroscope! Something to do, woohoo!

I will not be a hobo again. Well at least not 'til Wednesday.