belgianwaffle

Dublin

Customer service


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

You will possibly not recall my ongoing engagement with my bank re very hefty charges. I got no reply to my letter of November and reminder of December. I got out the big guns in January and wrote a grand long letter pointing out their obligations under various regulations and guidelines and in particular how they were supposed to get back to me within 5 working days. I was quite pleased with myself.

A couple of days later a very young woman rang me from the bank all apologies for not having replied to my letter. I felt really sorry for her. “It’s terrible, isn’t it?” she said. “I’ve actually had to pay it myself.” I sympathised. “Well, then, bye,” said she and hung up. I feel had but I suppose that is the end of it. Sigh.

Exhausted


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins, Youngest Child

Leaving the children to study, Mr. Waffle and I spent the long weekend enjoying ourselves on a series of walks which they were, obviously, devastated, to miss.

On Sunday we explored the joys of Howth and Sutton. It’s really close to the city but I felt like I was on holidays, exploring the unknown on my bike by the beach. Recommended.

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Beautiful sunset as well. The picture really doesn’t do it justice.

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We stopped off for a cup of tea in the Marine Hotel in Sutton which is an odd spot. They have very firm rules about when they will serve you. Mr. Waffle who doesn’t really list patience among his many virtues was not delighted to be told to wait outside when there were free tables in the restaurant. We got our tea eventually although it was a long drawn out process. We need an alternative tea venue.

Then on the Monday we went to Wicklow and walked to Lough Dan. It was very beautiful though a long downhill followed, inevitably by a long trek back up. Vigorous.

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Then Mr. Waffle went away for work. He reminded me anxiously of all the things that needed to be done in his absence including bringing in the green bin. When I went out to get it, I discovered that he had in fact brought it in himself before he left. An absence of trust there.

I dropped him to the airport (a – I shouldn’t be surprised but I was – lengthy process) and spent an afternoon running around doing various dull though almost continuous tasks (I cannot wait to step down from the parents council; we are currently at – v polite – war in relation to a proposed new cycle lane outside the school). The next day was the same. In the absence of a maths teacher in school – please do not ask me – the neighbour’s child who is doing a PhD in maths arrived in to give the children a grind. It went alright I think but they are absolutely flattened.

I had lunch with a friend in her house out in the suburbs – a longish cycle it transpires – and as well as lunch she gave me a plant (still alive today) and a clutch of magazines that her Dutch mother-in-law keeps for me on the Dutch royal family (they’re in Dutch, it’s educational). Very thrilling.

I collected Mr. Waffle from the airport at 11 last night and, as I said to him, I have never been gladder to welcome him home. “Imagine,” said he, “if you were working as well.” I am imagining. I suppose I would manage but I would not enjoy it.

It’s mid-term next week, thank God, we all really need a break from school.

Customer Experience of Dreams or a Vision of the Future of Retail


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins

I am getting a new phone. It is not exactly dirt cheap. Mr. Waffle and I went into town to the Vodafone shop. There were no seats and a big wall of video. Three young people (staff) were standing in the shop and a four middle aged people (customers) were wandering around looking a bit baffled. A young woman came up to us. “Can I help you?” she asked. We explained what we were after. “You’ll need to talk to one of the people in green tops.”

There were two people in green tops. One was dealing with a customer. The other was scrolling through his phone. “I suppose he’s on his break,” I said to Mr. Waffle charitably. It was not, however, pleasing to be standing there in the queue while young man scrolled and ignored. Eventually we were seen by the other person in a green top, a young woman. “You might get it cheaper online,” she opined. I could have wished they had indicated that in the other shop I had previously browsed in but ok. Spoiler alert, I got it online, it was not cheaper. “I want to give my old phone to my son, I remember there was some complication last time, what do I need to do to unlock it?” “It can be complicated,” she conceded, “that’s why we don’t do it in basic retail outlets like this any more but let the customers do it themselves online.” To improve our service to you etc. As we left the shop, the young man was still scrolling away on his phone ignoring the customers.

“I suppose this is what full employment looks like,” says grumpy middle aged blogger.

News from 2023


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Ok, so far, I have to concede, not very different from 2022.

January 2

Herself came back from her new year’s extravaganza with friends in Scotland. I rejoiced.

For the first time in a very long time, I booked no family theatre outing in the run up to Christmas. The palpable lack of enthusiasm doesn’t usually put me off but this year, somehow, it did. Mr. Waffle and I went to “The Sound of Music” in the concert hall. Music for middle brows, pretty enjoyable for this middle brow. The woman who was the Mother Superior was superb. How much did I enjoy “Climb every mountain”? Oh very much.

We finished the Christmas jigsaw. Apparently Michael gave it to me for Christmas last year and I never made it as he informed me reproachfully on Christmas day. Herself, adding to the gaiety of nations, said, “Oh yes, and remember the other day you said, where did this jigsaw still in its cellophane wrapping come from? Maybe I could give it away as a present.” Anyway, it was surprisingly difficult, I can tell you. However, “Mischief managed” as Mr. Waffle said.

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January 3

Mr. Waffle went back to work. Did I go back to work? I did not. Hah.

January 4

The boys and I went for a walk around the National Museum. Not entirely satisfactory but not altogether unsatisfactory either. Daniel’s face does rather sum up his mood though.

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I personally was very taken with this shoe relic storage system.

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We then went out for a very satisfactory lunch en famille in town. Our neighbour from up the road came over to our table as we were finishing up. I had not seen her but she and her family were sitting just behind us. We passed our lunch time conversation under rapid review but all seemed broadly well – I reiterate that Ireland is too small.

Daniel went to the library to get out the Ladybird book of quantum mechanics. He has read it already but apparently it is so good he wants us all to read it. He might be a bit optimistic there.

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January 5

Herself and myself went on a day trip to Belfast. She came downstairs looking extremely dressed up. I was in my jeans. “It looks like we are going to different events but it’s fine,” she said.

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The cross-border enterprise is the only train in the country which still has a catering service so we went all out and ordered a cooked breakfast. It was good in fairness but served in a polystyrene box with two wooden forks (they were out of knives) so presentation not what it might be.

The only cultural element of our outing was to see a lovely John Lavery painting in a church. I really like it. Herself was a bit more dubious.

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Other than that we just went to the shops and enjoyed the novelty of being, um, not exactly abroad but not at home either. I thought Belfast was pretty quiet. Good for us as shoppers but a bit grim for retail in the city generally. The market was sadly closed and lunch was fine but nothing to write home about. Food is just not great in Ireland unless you know where you are going. We did not know where we were going. Overall though a pretty successful outing.

January 6 Epiphany

I offered to drive herself to her friend’s house in Kildare for a Women’s Christmas dinner. Due to my general meanness I did not want to pay the motorway toll. I definitely regretted this and we ended up on a 3 county epic trek.

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I arrived home a shadow of my former self. Just as well Mr. Waffle had cooked dinner and washed up afterwards.

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January 7

Our local Eastern European shop was open notwithstanding it being Orthodox Christmas but a big group of Romanians in traditional dress carrying a pole with a tinsel picture attached were singing away which was rather nice.

Daniel went to visit a friend in Cavan. I mean why can’t my children have more friends in the city of 1.5 million people where we live. He took the bus in fairness.

Mr. Waffle and I spent the day taking down Christmas decorations which is a bit of a melancholy activity. The children took away the Christmas tree. They were thrilled to have the opportunity to help.

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We wound up all the lights carefully but everybody knows that they will all be knotted up again by next Christmas.

We all went out for a departure dinner for herself which was very nice. I was pleased. Later herself went out for drinks with friends and like the absolutely saintly mother I am, I collected her and another child at midnight and drove them home.

January 8

Further melancholy, herself went off back to England. It is miserable seeing a child off at the airport. However, on the plus side, she loves it there and she has to look after her own transport needs when she goes out in the evenings. She would tell you that she is perfectly prepared to do this at home also but when I know she is out, I can’t stand the tension of worrying about when and how she might get home and might as well collect her for added peace of mind. On her flight she was sitting beside a man from Tipperary who turned out to be a nephew of the people who live across the road (see above re size of Ireland). Talking to my neighbour he said that his nephew is a pilot with British Airways so perhaps not entirely surprising that he should be flying back to work.

Mr. Waffle and I picked up a coffee table from friends who wanted to get rid of it. I am pleased. It does not go with the sofas at all so perhaps it may speed up their departure (how I loathe them, big mistake and they are very comfortable which makes other family members keen to keep them, alas, and they were expensive, God they were expensive, double alas).

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January 9

The physio has inspected my knee and discharged me. It really is nearly better. Gratifying. And tonight is book club. Hurrah.

I trust your own January is going as well as can be expected.

Pre-Christmas Round Up


Posted in: Belgium, Dublin, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Herself is home. Rejoice. Michael has returned from his school trip to Brussels. I think it was a good, if not always enjoyable experience for him.

I have been re-inventing myself. I went for my annual haircut and the hairdresser gave me layers. I now have the exact same haircut I had when I started college in 1986. I went on a very enjoyable shopping trip with herself looking for something for me to wear to our Christmas party. We were unsuccessful but I did get a striped chunky jumper which together with the haircut is giving strong 17 year old me energy. All I need is a pair of Docs.

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Herself and myself went to the Messiah in St Patrick’s Cathedral It was nice but, it is long. Also we drove in which was extremely stressful. Christmas traffic is definitely back.

My brother has moved to France for a a couple of months. He is still alive after the drive down to the Alps, so good. He says that I should come skiing. The physio who is treating my wretched knee says that is something to aim for. I was hoping for better, more like “Of course!”

I had afternoon tea in the Westbury Hotel with my Sunday book club which is an experience I would truly recommend. However, I would not recommend it on the day that you yourself are having Christmas drinks in your house from 4.30 to 6.30. I also would not recommend having those drinks on the day of the World Cup final which goes to extra time and penalties. However.

The party – our first post-Covid – was reasonably successful. We had hoped that the young French student (who does conversation with the children) and his friends who live nearby would come and give out drinks and take coats. Sadly, due to the inability of Morocco to defeat France in the World Cup semis, they were not available (if France had not been in the final they would have been, try to keep up). We managed between the five of us but it was a bit stressful. Michael was particularly bitter having essentially spent the afternoon running up and down the stairs with coats. Dan had made a playlist for the party on Spotify which worked really well and we all cleaned like mad in advance and prepped cocktail sausages, mince pies, mulled wine and lots of beer. We encouraged people to bring their children. This worked pretty well when everyone’s children were primary school age but now that most of them are teenagers it’s a bit less successful. I felt particularly sorry for the 13 year old daughter of friends who moped on the sofa throughout. More successful was a friend’s 10 year old who ruled the roost over the assembled smaller children who had been sent to the utility room with the x-box and a large tub of sweets. Positively the best compliment I got all afternoon was from the adorable six year old daughter of a colleague of Mr. Waffle’s who told me that it was the best grown-up party she had ever been to. The children really enjoyed talking to the guests and, in particular, a gentle and charming friend of Mr Waffle’s who they found very entertaining. I am glad we went to the trouble of having it when they could all be there which was not easy. We’ll see if we can improve on the timing for next year.

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Last night Mr. Waffle and I went to a carol service in the local church. Somewhat to my surprise, Michael joined us; the other two firmly refused – as Dan said in horror “What now, on a Monday?” I thought it was lovely and the church choir were really good. Mr. Waffle couldn’t get over, however, the amateur strings who joined them and were, um, less than perfect though greeted with great enthusiasm by the punters.

I have bought all the Christmas presents I am going to buy. I still have to buy food for Christmas dinner (and, curve ball, get a new inner tube for the back wheel of my bicycle which punctured on my epic trip to the physio this morning) but I am broadly ready. And yourself?

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Public Service Thrills


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

I had occasion to visit Blackrock Library the other day. I had never been before. It is just amazing. A lovely, lovely premises – great space for teens, adults and children. Also, a nice cycle ride to get there.

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Honestly, the library service is fantastic. I have previously sung the praises of the app but I am going to do so again. It’s excellent. It also tells you when local libraries are open. We have a small part time library near us which closes every second Friday and opens at 1 on certain days. Ok not the best service (there are also a couple of much bigger branches with normal opening hours within easy reach) but before the arrival of the app you had to guess which Friday you were on which added a frisson of excitement. Yes, middle aged thrills again.

I’ve also recently downloaded the Dublin Cycling App to my phone. By pretending that I am cycling with a small child, I have persuaded it to track safe routes for me to various destinations. I am delighted. Also it records your speed. I’m a bit less delighted to discover that I have a top speed of 13.1km/hour. But, as they say, that’s on me.