Have I ever told you about what Sophie refers to as my twitchy finger? Don’t think I have actually. It’s not what you’re probably thinking. She uses the expression to refer to an annoying trait I have apparently developed which manifests itself when I’m online shopping. I end up buying things, usually plane tickets, in her opinion on an impulse or without due care and attention, that I quickly come to regret.
You might remember the best example of this. It was when we were wanting to go to Sweden and ended up in Denmark after I momentarily mixed up my capital cities and clicked on the button to buy Easyjet tickets to Copenhagen. Twitchy finger indeed. It was just a wee bit of an unfortunate slip up, no disrespect intended to the Danes. Recently though I have just been downright unlucky. I know I was moaning last Friday too, but this week the banes of my life have been GAP years and mobile phones.
Jimmy, back from a blissful month in St Lucia, was due to head off tomorrow to Hong Kong and then on to India travelling with an old school friend. Alas the friend, perhaps not quite as chillaxed as our Rasta girl, has decided it is all too daunting a prospect and at the last minute has pulled out. So there has been much frenetic shuffling of options with Jimmy trying to track down a couple of other friends already in India. To cut a long story short she had not been able to contact them and with a day to go before we would have been unable to make any changes to the ticket I had to pull the trigger and get us another week in which to sort things out. Literally 20 minutes after I had done that Jimmy’s friend emails her and the perfect solution presents itself, except that I have to spend another £112 unravelling all the changes I had just made. So she’s on her way in a couple of days time to experience all the sights, smells, culture and exotic mystery that India has to offer. Well I say India, she’s heading to the Andaman Islands…..tough old life eh. I’m so bored of this GAP year malarkey that I’ve taken to reading my diary from 1982 when I was on my own travels round the world. Funnily enough I also spent part of my GAP year in the Indian Ocean, but instead of lying on a beach sipping pina coladas according to my diary I seem to have spent my time working on the deck of a Stolt Nielsen chemical tanker, chipping rust and painting pipes in 100oF, simultaneously fighting off the attentions of various Filipino and Scandinavian seamen.
And just to rub salt into the wounds having waited in vain, a week and a half, for Lottie – our perfect child you might remember - to find yet another lost mobile phone I finally gave up and went to the Vodafone shop today to cancel her SIM card and buy a new Nokia handset. I kid you not, I had barely deposited the little red bag on my desk, when my phone buzzed with a text from Sophie. “Lottie’s found her fone, but it doesnt seem to be working”. Funny that. Another £30 down the drain. I am a laid back soul really, but I might just have a sense of humour failure if S mentions the twitchy finger words this evening.
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