Where in the world ... ?

... PC World. Well, that's what the ad on the telly says anyway. I popped in to my local PC World this fine, sunny morning, as I needed a new firewire cable. Having checked on the Tinterweb, I knew that, obviously, I could get one cheaper online than I could in the shops. However, convenience and instant-ness (what?) are always worth paying a few extra pennies for.

Unfortunately, the price difference was a tad more than even I was prepared to pay. Online, the cable cost £9 which included delivery. PC World were asking slightly more for the same cable. They wanted £21. Yes, that's £12 extra. Bugger that. I was mildly miffed at this but my mood improved considerably as I was leaving the store. Being Sunday morning, I assumed it would be fairly quiet in the shop, especially as it had only been open for 8 minutes. I was wrong. The service and repairs counter already had a large queue of disgruntled-looking punters, clutching various bits of computer in their impatient little hands. I couldn't help but smirk (oh, and take this photo) as I thought that maybe if they'd perhaps bought a computer from another company (er, can't think which one ...) then maybe they'd be relaxing at home on a Sunday morning, surfing the Net, sending emails or listening to some nice, downloaded music. Hmmm.

Talking of 'where in the world', on Saturday, my wife and I popped down to Herefordshire for a family 'do'. Fine. Nice, easy 2.5 hour drive down to the place and enjoy the day. One slight problem. We entered the UK's Bermuda Triangle. In short, from arriving at what turned out to be 3 miles from our destination, to actually getting there, took longer than the 135 mile trip from our bloody house. At the end of one road there was a signpost to the village we were looking for. We drove down it. When we got to the end of the road, there was another signpost for the village ... pointing back the way we'd just come. This road was about 2 miles long and either side were fields. And a cow. No village.

After several mental breakdowns, failed mobile phone calls (no signal), asking directions from some ramblers and a man who was making a hedge, following some other relatives until their car broke down and my wife having to 'tootie-down' in a field to have an emergency wee, our fuel-starved car finally pulled up at the venue. We felt like Sir Edmund Hilary and sherpa Tenzing reaching the summit of Everest. Mind you, they didn't have pints of lager and a 13 foot table laden with buffet gorgeousness to bring them back from the brink of death.

World-weary explorers love an onion bhaji and a pint of Carling.